By the rules of war I had a right to take the property, I believe, but it seems hard that the owners, who were probably not belligerents, should be deprived of it. On the following day, the 15th, we sailed on a cruise in search of any of the enemy's merchantmen or privateers, of which they had begun to fit out a good many. The crews ran a great risk of being treated as pirates, but as the rebels had already threatened to retaliate, should the usual customs of regular warfare be departed from, it was judged prudent to behave towards those who fell into our hands as if they were regular prisoners of war.

We had begun to grumble much at our ill-luck in not falling in with prize. "Ye'll na take anything which will put siller into any of our pockets this cruise, ma laddies," said Andrew Macallan, the Scotch surgeon's mate, who was much addicted to the prophesying of ill-luck.

We Orlopians were collected in the midshipman's berth towards the termination of a not over-luxurious dinner. "I should think not," responded Kennedy. "What can we expect to get out of these beggarly provincials? It's not likely they'll have any craft afloat which will be worth capture."

"How do you know that?" exclaimed Frank Mercer, one of our mates, with a deep crimson flush on his brow. "Now, from what I have heard, I believe the patriots have a number of fine merchantmen sailing out of their ports, and have already fitted out several privateers."

"From which of your friends on shore did you hear that?" asked Kennedy, with a look of contempt.

"From common report," replied Mercer. He was known to have several relations and friends in America who had sided with the rebels, and though this made him look on them with a favourable eye, he had too loyal a spirit to allow him to contemplate for a moment the desertion of his colours. Still his heart often yearned towards those engaged in what then appeared so unequal a struggle on shore, and he could scarcely help expressing satisfaction at any success they met with. Poor Mercer had to endure a great deal of irony and abuse on the subject, but while he defended the rebels, and asserted their right to take up arms in the defence of their liberties, he acknowledged that his own duty was to remain loyal to his sovereign. The dispute was waxing warm, when little Harry Sumner, who had been on deck, came below, and announced that there was a suspicious sail away to the north-east, and that we were in chase of her. I was on deck in a minute, and found everything being set alow and aloft in chase of the stranger. After watching her for some time from aloft, where I had gone with my spy-glass, I saw that we were gaining on her rapidly, though she had also made all sail. This convinced us that she was a craft belonging to the enemy. She was sloop-rigged, but seemed to be a vessel of some size. After a chase of four hours we got her within range of our guns, when a shot from one of our bow-chasers, falling close alongside, convinced her that she had no chance of escape, and that her wisest policy was to heave-to without more ado. This she at once did, and I was sent on board to take possession. She proved to be the Ranger, from Nantucket harbour, bound on a whaling voyage, her crew consisting of a master, mate, boy, and ten men. Her master, Mr Jotham Scuttle, was very indignant at being captured, and good reason he had to be so, for half the vessel was his own, and thus in a moment he was deprived of all his worldly wealth. He was as unlike a seaman in appearance as could well be imagined; with his broad-brimmed hat, knee-breeches, buckles to his high shoes, and long waistcoat, but he was not the less active for all that. Leaving Grampus, who had accompanied me, with two hands in charge of the sloop, I returned with the prisoners to the frigate. The mate and men were instantly pressed, without the question being asked whether they would wish to join, and Captain Hudson ordered me to go back to the sloop, giving me leave to carry Tom Rockets, in addition to the men already on board, and to make the best of my way to Halifax. "Stay," said he, "take the master and boy with you, Mr Hurry; we shall not know what to do with them on board—and see that he plays you no trick." I laughed at the idea of having anything to dread from the demure Mr Scuttle, and, putting up a few necessaries, I tumbled into the boat which was to take me on board my new command. I thought I caught a twinkle in friend Jotham's eyes when he found that he was to be sent back to his own vessel—but this was probably fancy. He sat looking very sad and downcast as we pulled on board the sloop. The crew of the boat which had brought me gave me three cheers, and Delisle, who had come in her, wished me a prosperous voyage to Halifax, from which I was about two hundred leagues distant. The frigate then hauled her wind, and I made sail to the northward. Of course I felt very grand in my new command, like Sancho Panza in his island, though it was not to last very long at the utmost; and it was not impossible that I might be summarily dispossessed of it at any moment; however, I did not trouble myself about such thoughts just then. Having taken possession of the master's cabin, and allowed him to occupy his mate's, I called my ship's company together, and, having divided them into two watches, told them I expected they would do their duty and behave themselves. Nol Grampus had charge of one watch with one of the seamen and Mr Scuttle under him, and I took the other with the other seaman, Tom Rockets and the boy. Tom had not got over his innocent country look, though he was sharp enough in reality, and did his duty as a seaman very fairly. Old Grampus, who had taken a fancy to him, was always teaching him something or other likely to prove useful. "Now, Tom, you may be no wiser nor a young gull as has never learned to fly," I heard the old man say; "but listen, my boy, if you follows my advice you'll soon be able to spread your wings and skim over the water just for all the world like one on them big albatrosses one meets with off the Cape of Good Hope, you've heard speak of." Tom had not heard of such a place, so Grampus told him all about it, and a great deal more besides. In that way my young follower picked up his sea lore. The contrast between the two was perfect. Tom's young, smooth, innocent face, and round boyish figure, and the thorough old sea-dog look of Grampus, with his grizzly bushy hair and whiskers, his long cue, his deeply-furrowed, or I may say rather bumped and knobbed and bronzed countenance, and his spare, sinewy form, having not a particle of flesh with which he could dispense.

As Mr Jotham Scuttle's eye fell on Tom he took him at once for a simple lad, who could readily believe anything he had to say, and he formed his plans accordingly. I got on very well with my scanty crew, for as there were winches and tackles of all sorts on board, I managed to work the vessel easily enough. We had an abundance of provisions, so that, contrasted especially with the fare to which I had for many months past been accustomed, we lived luxuriously.

The second day I invited Mr Scuttle to dine with me. The commencement of the entertainment was not very lively, for though he did not play a bad knife and fork, he uttered no sound except an occasional deep sigh from beneath the very lowest button of his waistcoat. At last, after leaning his head on his hand for some time, he looked up.

"It is very hard to be borne, mister," he exclaimed with vehemence. "Here was I, with a fine craft I could almost call my own, and with every chance of providing for my family, and now I'm worse than a beggar—a prisoner, and forced to go I don't know where."

"You shouldn't have broken the blockade, and your friends shouldn't have rebelled and broken the laws," said I.

"Laws!" he exclaimed with disdain, "they were bad laws, and it went against the grain of every honest man to observe them."

"I don't know anything about that," I replied; "in my profession all we have to do is to obey without asking questions, and I just fancy that your people will very soon have to do the same, whether they like it or not."

"Will they, forsooth?" he exclaimed, striking his fist on the table. "The time has passed for that. I'll tell you what, sir, they'll fight it out till every drop of honest blood is spilt in the country. It was the supercilious, boasting airs of your lords and aristocrats who came out among the military looking down upon all the first gentlemen in the land as provincials and colonists, as they called them in contempt, which was the real cause of the revolt. They made enemies wherever they went, with their follies and pride and haughty words. They and their government at home seemed to forget that we were Britons like themselves, with British hearts, ay, and with truer loyalty than they had for the king and the old country. What would you say, sir, if you were insulted as we have been?"

"I certainly do not like being bullied by anyone," said I.

"No more do we colonists, sir," answered the poor skipper. "My father, sir, came over from the old country; misfortunes compelled him to quit it, but he loved it as much as ever, and brought up me, his son, to love it also; and so I should to this day, had I, and those who had made America their own, been fairly treated—not looked upon as children to be played with, or slaves to be bullied and despised. Now, sir," he continued, standing up and placing one hand on the table, while he extended the other, "I tell you that there are not bitterer enemies to the old country than your government have made me and many like me."

"I am very sorry for you," I said, seeing the justice of his remarks, "but you see I cannot help it, so just sit down and mix yourself another tumbler of grog; we can but make the best of circumstances."

"I don't want your pity, or that of any of the enemies of America," he answered proudly. Then he seemed to soften, and he continued in a more subdued tone, "But you, young gentleman, seem inclined to treat me as a man should a man, and not as some of your officers have treated us provincials, so I am thankful, and if the day should come when I can return your kindness I shall be glad to do so."

"I only hope that I may not be in your place as a prisoner," said I.

"To be honest with you," he replied, "if I only had the chance of taking the sloop from you, I should be right not to let it pass by, though I have no great hope that it will be offered me."

"No, I should think not," I answered, laughing. I have often since thought of the foolish, domineering way in which England and Englishmen treat their brethren who turn colonists, and shall not be surprised if she loses one colony after another as she was now doing her American settlements. The skipper was soon pacified, and we became very good friends. We were still talking away over our glass of grog, when Nol Grampus put his head in at the cabin-door.

"I don't quite like the look of the weather, Mr Hurry," said he. "I think it's going to breeze up a bit, and the sooner we shorten sail the better."

I jumped up and went on deck, when I saw that he was right. We accordingly at once made all snug. Thick clouds were banking up from the westward and southward, which soon rushing on like a vast army sweeping over a devoted country, deluged us with rain, bringing a heavy breeze, which kicked up no small amount of sea. The wind keeping to the southward of west we could lay our course, so on we went pitching and tumbling before it in no very pleasant manner for several days.

Fortunately the Ranger was well found in every respect, and, proving a very good sea-boat, showed that the men of Nantucket knew what was the best economy in the end. She was newly painted, and had sixteen ports, so that at a distance she had a somewhat formidable appearance; but as they had no guns to them, though she could grin, she could not even bark, much less bite. If, therefore, we fell in with an enemy I saw that, should we not be able to escape by flight, we should in all probability be captured. I had observed that my friend the skipper had been in better spirits than at first. He spoke frankly to me, as he did to the crew, and seemed to be on good terms with everybody. He was evidently a clever man—full of resources of all sorts—above his station I should say. He had been brought up as a farmer, and had never been afloat till within the last six or seven years. He was now no contemptible sailor. His next move would probably be to some totally different sphere, where he would take a step higher in the social scale. Such is the career of many a New Englander.

I had turned into my berth, after keeping the morning watch some days after this, when, as I awoke, I saw Tom Rockets moving about in the cabin.

"What do you want, Tom?" I asked.

"Hist, sir," he whispered, "I've just a word to speak to you."

"Out with it then, my man," I said.

"It's just about that strange skipper, sir."

"Well, go on."

"He's been talking to me, and asking if I wouldn't like to go and settle in a land of liberty, and make my fortune, and no longer be subject to be starved and flogged and ill-treated on board of a man-of-war?"

"And what did you say, Tom?" I asked.

"I told him just simply like that I belonged to you, that I would follow wheresoever you went, and that if you thought fit to go and settle in his country, I'd have no objection to go too."

"That was right, Tom. If he speaks to you again, give him the same sort of answer. Don't let him suppose you are offended. Has he spoken with either of the other men?"

"With all except Grampus; but I don't think he has made much way with them. The old man, I fancy, sir, guesses what he's after, and has his eye on him," answered Tom.

"All right, then, my lad. Keep your eyes about you, and let me know any thing you observe, but don't allow the skipper to find out that we suspect him."

Tom promised to follow my directions, and I sent him on deck while I turned out and dressed. I treated Mr Scuttle just as if he were not plotting against me, for forewarned, I felt myself fore-armed, and had no fear that he could do me any harm.

That day the wind fell considerably and we again had fair weather. The next morning, while I was at breakfast, old Nol hailed down the sky-light—

"Would you just come on deck for a moment, sir?" said he.

"What is it?" I asked.

"There's a sail away to the south-west, and I don't quite like the looks of her," answered the old man.

I jumped on deck in a moment. I was not long in making out a brig under all sail holding the same course we were on. As I took the glass from my eye I found Scuttle standing by my side.

"What do you think of her?" I asked.

"Maybe she's a whaler, or maybe a sealer, or a merchantman from one of the provincial ports, or maybe a transport with British red-coats aboard; but, Mr Hurry, it requires a man with a longer sight than I've got to tell just now what she is," said the skipper, in the long drawling tone of a New Englander.

I thought that there was something ironical in his tone as he spoke, and that he more than probably knew perfectly well all about the stranger.

"Whatever she may be," I answered, "I'll show her my heels. Make all sail, Grampus."

"Ay, ay, sir," he replied; and in a short time, the skipper pulling and hauling with as good a will as the rest, we had every stitch of canvas packed on the sloop which she could carry. I fancied, however, that the skipper gave a knowing look at me as he went forward, as much as to say, "You may make all the sail you like, but it won't do." At all events, I soon found that the Ranger, though a very good sea boat, was a tub in regard to sailing, under-rigged especially, as she was, for greater convenience in handling.

The stranger was walking up to us fast. As the morning sun fell on her sails they appeared to me very white, and to have a wide spread, and I began to hope that she might prove an English man-of-war brig. Another two hours, however, banished any such hopes, and I was convinced, on looking at Jotham Scuttle's countenance, that she was likely to prove his friend, but my enemy.

"What do you think of her now, Mr Scuttle?" I asked.

"She's a brig," he answered innocently.

"Anyone can see that with half an eye," said I; "but what is she? Where does she hail from?"

"Well, then, maybe she hails from a provincial port," he answered slowly. "I should not be very much surprised, too, if she carries guns."

"A rebel privateer or pirate, in fact," said I.

"An American privateer, if you please, sir, I have no doubt she is," he replied; "in two or three hours, I guess, you will find it safer to call her so, at all events."

"Well, well, we will see about that," I remarked, laughing at his coolness, though I began to entertain no slight apprehension that I was about to lose my prize and to become a prisoner into the bargain.

"They've got their new-fangled flag a-flying from their peak, sir," said Grampus, stepping up.

On looking through my glass I made out the star-and-stripe covered ensign, just then begun to be carried by provincial vessels, flying out proudly from her gaff end; while several ports at her side left me no longer in doubt that she was an enemy most devoutly to be wished away. Do everything I could, however, to increase the speed of the Ranger, she rapidly came up with us. Still it was not in my nature to give in while a chance remained of escape. Some man-of-war might heave in sight, or some other craft the privateer might think more worthy of chasing; or we might keep ahead till darkness came to my help. The chances were, however, very small in my favour, and Mr Scuttle could not help showing his satisfaction at the prospect of the probable change in our fortunes. I went aloft and swept the horizon with my glass in every direction, but not a sail appeared in sight. The breeze held steady, and indeed seemed rather inclined to increase than fall. My heart sank lower than it had ever done before. In another hour my people and I would be prisoners, and Mr Jotham Scuttle would be offering me his commiseration. He was speaking to my two men; doubtless telling them they had nothing to fear. I felt a very strong inclination at the moment to pitch him overboard; I wanted some one on whom to vent my vexation. Poor man! however, there was in reality much to admire in him. In another half hour the game would be up. Suddenly a bright idea occurred to me. I had often seen a poor silly creature followed by a troop of urchins hallooing at his heels and mocking him with their thoughtless jests, when he would turn round with clenched fists and grinning lips, and they would take to an ignominious flight. I would try the effect of a similar trick. Descending on deck, I ordered Grampus to get lines fastened to all the ports, so that they might be lifted at once. As soon as the arrangement was made I put the sloop about, and at the same moment, suddenly lifting all our ports—of which, as I have said, we had eight on a side—under all sail, I stood boldly down towards the enemy. Still she stood on, and my heart began to quake for the success of my manoeuvre.

"It can't be helped, sir, I fear," said Grampus. "We are in for it."

"No, no," I exclaimed, with a shout of joy. "It's all right. Hurrah, my lads!" The brig had taken in her studden-sails and was standing away from us, close-hauled on a wind. I was so eagerly watching her that I did not see what had become of friend Scuttle. I was aroused by a cry from Tom Rockets.

"Just you come down, master!" he exclaimed.

I looked up and caught sight of the skipper and his boy going aloft with knives in their hands. Their intention was obvious. It was to cut the halliards, and by letting the sails come down by the run, call the attention of the brig to our true condition, and thus bring her back to our capture. Tom had got hold of the boy's leg, and I thought would have jerked him overboard. Grampus in a moment was after the master, and before he had reached the cross-trees had hold of him, and, wrenching the knife from his hand, had hove it overboard. Whatever were the thoughts and intentions of my two other men, they did not show any inclination to side with the skipper. He began to show fight and to kick and struggle not a little, but Grampus had held on with his teeth in too many a gale while close-reefing top-sails, not to be able to gain the mastery. With threats and very significant signs that he would heave him overboard, he at length forced him down on deck.

"Now," said I, "Mr Scuttle, I should be justified in pistolling you on the spot for the pretty trick you purposed playing me. But I will not injure you. You gave me warning, I remember, what you would do, so, as I believe you to be a man of honour, pass me your word that you will attempt no further treachery and I will not injure you. Otherwise, for my own safety, I must clap you in limbo, and shoot you the moment I find you again at any such game."

"It's very, very hard," he answered, folding his arms on his bosom and looking wistfully at the brig, which still held her course away from us, "to have thought that I should get back my vessel and see my family again in a few days perhaps, and now to have all my hopes rudely swept away from me! It's hard—very, very hard!"

I really pitied the poor man and would on no account have injured him, could I have avoided it.

"Well, Mr Hurry, luck's against me," he said at length. "In all things regarding the navigation of the vessel, I'll obey you faithfully till we reach Halifax. Then you have nothing more to fear from me."

I was sure that I could trust him. "Then," said I, "go about your duty, and I will take no notice of what has passed."

Grampus, Tom, and I cheered lustily as we saw the brig continuing to stand away from us, and the men joined us, though I suspect the fellows did not care much about the matter. It was getting towards evening. I longed for darkness, for I never felt so anxious in my life. I was afraid every moment that the people of the brig might gain courage and turn round upon us. If so, we should be worse off than ever, as we should not have a chance of escaping. Friend Scuttle eyed the brig as anxiously as I did, though with very different wishes. Still we held on, looking, I doubt not, very fierce, and the privateer's men must have been no less anxious to get away from us than we were from them. At length evening approached, and never did I see the sun set with so much satisfaction. Gradually the shades of night crept over the ocean, and I drew a long breath as the brig was lost to our sight in the thickening gloom. As soon as I was certain that we could not possibly be seen, I ordered the sloop to be kept away, and once more made all sail to the northward, altering my course a few points from that I had been steering when first seen by the brig, lest she should by any chance be looking after us in the morning. Probably the privateer's men were congratulating themselves at thus easily escaping from us. As I gave vent to my feelings in a hearty cheer the poor skipper exhibited his in a deep groan, and then, having assisted in making sail, turned in to try and forget his sorrows in sleep. The weather continued fine till the 7th of the month, when I made the land about five leagues to the westward of Halifax harbour. Soon after this the wind fell and we had a stark calm. By Mr Scuttle's advice I fitted a couple of fishing-lines, and in the course of an hour, with those two lines alone, caught one hundred and twenty-four very fine cod. They proved a welcome addition to our usual salt-meat fare. Those we could not eat fresh we split open and dried in the sun, and they thus served us for food for several days.

"What do you think of the weather now, Grampus?" said I, after we had been fishing for some time.

"I don't like its looks at all, sir," he replied. "This is a ticklish coast at all times, and one never knows what's coming."

"If you had asked me, I could have told you that we are going to have wind, and fully enough of it," observed Mr Scuttle.

He had got into a mighty free-and-easy style of talking of late. He was perfectly right, though in addition to the wind, which sprung up immediately afterwards, we got a thick fog, which totally obscured the land. I steered a course, however, which I hoped would carry us to the harbour's mouth. We ran on for some time and then hove-to, that we might sound. We had still plenty of water, so I stood on again. At last the fog lifted a little, when to my very great disgust I found that we had run three leagues past the mouth of the harbour. We endeavoured to tack back, but before morning a heavy gale of wind sprung up directly off shore. It was impossible to beat up against it, so I stood to the eastward all that day and night, under a try-sail and storm-jib. During this time the gale showed no signs of abating. It was a good trial to our tempers, at all events. Grampus vowed that there was some old witch in Halifax who must have taken a spite to us and was resolved to keep us out of the harbour as long as she could. He was devising all sorts of plans for exorcising her, but none seemed likely to prove satisfactory. In the morning, the weather moderating a little, I stood to the westward under close-reefed mainsail and double-reefed foresail, and by the evening reached at length the mouth of the harbour. "There's many a slip between the cup and the lip." We were congratulating ourselves on getting all snug at night, when once more the wind breezed up with a thickish fog, and as we were then in only forty fathoms of water I was obliged again to run to sea. The bad weather kept me, as well as all the people, on deck, for not knowing what might occur no one could venture to go below. Some time before daylight I once more hauled my wind and beat up towards the land. By the evening of the 10th we were again in with Jabucta Head. We then got soundings on a reef of rocks in eight fathoms water, but so worn out was I and everybody on board that I ordered the anchor to be let go, that we might turn in and get some rest. I fully expected to lose my anchor and cable, but when I came to weigh at daylight the next morning I was fortunate enough to save them both. I now fully expected to get safe into harbour, but as I was standing up Major's Reach I saw a Falmouth packet coming down. The temptation of speaking her and sending a message home was too great to be resisted, so I stood over towards her. As the sloop was going about she missed stays near a dangerous reef, and to prevent her driving on the rocks it was necessary to be quick in wearing. In doing this the boom came over with the whole main-sheet eased off, and carried it away in six different places. This accident compelled me to run from the narrow channel and lost me the opportunity of speaking the packet. Once more making sail, and the wind favouring me, I got as high as George's Island, when a sudden squall split my mainsail. This compelled me to bring up. Manning a boat, I pulled up to Halifax to look out for the prize agent, into whose hands I was to deliver the sloop.

I parted on the best of terms with Mr Jotham Scuttle. He hoped to find some friends in Halifax who would advance him money to enable him to buy back the Ranger.

"If ever you come to Nantucket," said he, "ask for me, and if I'm on shore there's no one will give you a more hearty welcome."

I promised that I would not forget his kind invitation, and, after a hearty shaking of hands, I saw no more of him.

I found the whole town in a state of great commotion, as the immense fleet there collected, of men-of-war and transports, with a large army on board, were on the point of sailing, it was said, on an expedition which would effectually crush the rebels and bring the American provinces once more into complete subjection. That I might not be left behind I immediately reported myself to my Lord Shouldham. His lordship ordered me at once to come on board the Chatham, with my people. I very speedily returned to the Ranger and again got back to the Chatham. I was, however, rather ashamed of my outfit, as it was not very appropriate to the atmosphere of a flag-ship, consisting, as it did, of one old uniform suit, four shirts, and a very few etceteras.

The fleet, I found, was bound for the projected attack on New York. It consisted of his Majesty's ships Chatham, Rear-Admiral Shouldham, of the White—she had on board General Lord Percy, General Pigot, and other officers of rank—the Centurion, the Greyhound, which had on board General Sir William Howe, the Commander-in-Chief, and brother to Admiral Lord Howe, the Rose, Senegal, and Merlin, sloops of war, and nearly two hundred sail of transports.

Two hours after I got on board the whole fleet of men-of-war and transports made sail for their destination. It was understood that we were to be joined at New York by Admiral Lord Howe, who was on his way out from England. He was to take command of the fleet, while his brother, the general, had command of the army. The two together were to act as commissioners to treat with the rebels, and, by showing them the overpowering force marshalled against them, to endeavour to bring them to terms. Although the rebels had been for so long able successfully to set the king's forces at defiance, there were a considerable number of people throughout the country who still remained loyal to their sovereign, known generally under the designation of Tories, and it was supposed that they would materially aid both in putting down the rebellion and in winning back the inhabitants to their allegiance. The rebel army, under the immediate command of General Washington, held New York and Long Island opposite to it, as well as the adjacent country. I believe I knew the particulars I speak of at the time: if not I learnt them soon afterwards.

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Note 1. Father of the late Admiral Sir William Symonds, and of the late Admiral Thomas Symonds.

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Note 2. General Howe was the brother of Admiral Lord Howe.



CHAPTER FOUR.

THE FLEET AT SEA.—TROOPS LANDED.—ALL HOPE OF PEACE ABANDONED.—SPIES EXECUTED.—BOATS SENT TO WATCH FIRE-SHIPS.—REJOIN ORPHEUS.—LAND MASTERS OF MERCHANTMEN.—FALL IN WITH REBEL REGIMENT.—ATTACK FORT ON SULLIVAN'S ISLAND.—HEAVY LOSS.—WITNESS ATTACK ON BROOKLYN.—DREADFUL SLAUGHTER.—RUN PAST BATTERIES IN EAST RIVER.—TRYING TIME.—DEATH OF AN OLD FRIEND.—SHIPS CANNONADED.

Far as the eye could reach the white sails of the men-of-war and transports dotted the blue waters of the Atlantic, as with a light though favourable breeze the fleet steered a course for New York. We might have been excused, as we scanned with pride the vast armament—the ships, their crews, and the troops in prime order and amply supplied with all the munitions of war, under the command of the most experienced leaders England could send forth—if we believed firmly that victory was destined to sit proudly on our standards. Here and there a man-of-war might be seen in the far distance, like a sheep-dog on the heels of the flock, firing a gun now, on this side now on that, to hint to any laggers along the transports to make more sail, but generally the fleet kept well together. On the 13th the Greyhound, with General Howe on board, parted company, to hasten on, it was supposed, to make arrangements with Governor Tryon and other royalists in the neighbourhood of New York about the landing the troops, and did not return to the fleet. It was not till the 2nd, after a prosperous voyage, that we reached Sandy Hook, at the mouth of Baritan Day, to the southward of the narrow entrance of New York harbour, where we found at anchor his Majesty's ship Phoenix and several sail of merchantmen. At noon on the 4th the signal was given for the whole fleet to weigh. It was a beautiful sight. The sky was blue, the sun bright, and the water calm and clear. To the southward, across the yellow glittering shore of Sandy Hook, arose the bold highlands of Neversink; on the larboard bow was Staten Island, with green fields, feathery woods, and sloping hills, sprinkled with numerous country houses and villas, built mostly by the old Dutch settlers, peeping from among the trees. Ahead were the Narrows—such is the appropriate name given to the channel leading to New York—while more to the right stretched away, till lost in distance to the north-east, the low sandy coast of Long Island, with a fringe of dark forest appearing on the summit of its centre ridge like the bristles on the back of a wild boar. The Chatham was the first ship to make sail, and the master received orders to steer through the rest of the fleet. It was truly a fine sight, as the admiral and the generals, with their brilliant staffs in rich uniforms, and the officers of the ships stood crowding on the decks, with bands playing joyous and inspiriting tunes while we sailed onward, the crews and troops on board that numerous squadron cheering lustily, their hearts beating with martial ardour under the belief that we were advancing to the immediate attack and certain conquest of New York. All necessary preparations were made on our passage up for landing, but as we approached the entrance of the harbour some change seemed to be contemplated in the arrangements, and at sunset, instead of entering the Narrows, the signal was made for the fleet to anchor in Gravesend Day at the south-west end of Long Island. I was anxious to fall in with the Orpheus, once more to get on board her, for with my scanty stock of clothing I was far from comfortable in the flag-ship. She was, however, away on a cruise and might not possibly return for some time. However, I thereby saw and heard more of the general proceedings than I should otherwise have done. We learned soon afterwards that on this very day, the 4th of July, 1776, thirteen British colonies in America had declared themselves free and independent States, abjuring all allegiance to the British Crown, and renouncing all political connexion with the mother country. This declaration was issued by the celebrated Congress, organised by Dr Franklin and other provincial leaders, consisting of representatives from the above-mentioned States who assembled at Philadelphia. The resolution was passed on the 2nd, but it was not till the day I speak of, the 4th, that the document entitled the Declaration of Independence was adopted by the Congress and published to the people. It was the fatal blow which severed for ever that vast territory from Great Britain. The reasons for our anchoring and the troops not being landed were known only to the commanders-in-chief.

At daylight on the 5th the signal was made for the whole fleet to weigh. At this time, it must be understood, the rebels held the shore of Long Island on our starboard hand in considerable force, and there were bodies of them on Staten Island on the larboard hand, which forms the southern side of the harbour. It was a fine sight to see the fleet, the Phoenix, Rose, and Senegal leading, standing for the channel of the Narrows; but our hopes of entering into action were again disappointed in consequence of the wind falling away and compelling us to anchor. At four o'clock in the afternoon, however, once more the signal was made to weigh, the flat-bottomed boats destined to land the troops were manned, and in the same order as before we proceeded onwards. The moment we entered the Narrows the rebels opened fire on us from field-pieces and small arms, but without doing us much injury, but very few men on board any of the ships being killed. By seven o'clock we had dropped anchor close in with the north shore of Staten Island, and were actively engaged in landing the troops. So rapid and unexpected had been our movements at the last that a body of the enemy, to the number of nearly three hundred men, were unable to escape and were taken prisoners by the first division of Grenadiers who landed. The army at once encamped, and it was difficult to say what great movement would next take place. We found ourselves, however, at once engaged in active warfare on a small scale, for the enemy were by no means idle and the troops had frequent skirmishes with them. The navy also had work enough to do, and of a very harassing nature. Frequently I had to spend the whole of the night in a guard-boat keeping watch on the movements of the enemy, especially looking out for the approach of fire-ships, which, it was reported, they were about to send down in the hopes of destroying the fleet. In the day-time we were employed in carrying about troops and throwing them on shore in different directions, to harass and distract the enemy, so that they might be less prepared when the real attack upon them was made. On the 12th of July the signal was made for the Phoenix, Rose, and Tryall to get under weigh, and the wind being favourable, they stood up boldly towards the mouth of the Hudson. It was an exploit of no slight danger and difficulty, and was watched by all on board the fleet with breathless interest. As they got within reach the batteries of Red Hook, Powles Hook, and the garrison of New York opened an incessant and heavy fire on them, which was warmly returned by the ships. General Washington and his army must have looked with no little vexation, if not dismay, on the success of the attempt, as it exposed the shores of the Hudson at unexpected points to our attacks, and Captain Wallace of the Rose was well known for the annoyance he had been causing the inhabitants of the New England coast since the commencement of the outbreak.

On the day of this occurrence a salute from each of the ships-of-war gave notice that Lord Viscount Howe had arrived. He superseded Lord Shouldham as commander-in-chief. He had come out from England expecting to join his brother, the general, at Halifax, but finding that he had sailed from thence had followed him here. At first it was supposed that warlike operations would be pushed on with vigour, but soon it was reported that conciliatory measures were to be the order of the day, and the general and admiral lost no time in communicating with General Washington, Dr Franklin, and other leaders of the rebels, in the hopes of bringing them to terms.

Officers were sent with flags of truce, who were met by the Americans each time in a barge half-way between Governor's Island and Staten Island. Governor's Island is a small island in the centre of the channel between Brooklyn and New York. They were conducted with every mark of courtesy to the American generals, but the rebels had already committed themselves too far to allow them to accept of any terms the British Commissioners had it in their power to offer. The Declaration of Independence had for ever, indeed, cut the last link which bound the colonies to England, and though henceforward they might be reconciled, it was clear that it must be in the character of separate States. It was reported on board that the admiral had addressed a letter to General Washington as simply to George Washington, Esquire, and that the American commander-in-chief refused to receive it, on the ground that he was at the head of a regularly constituted army and could only receive communications under his proper title of general. Those who knew General Washington, as I afterwards had the means of doing, were aware that this was not owing to pride or ostentation, but from the importance in the critical position in which he was placed of keeping up his character and of asserting the legality of the cause in which he was engaged. Whatever might have been then said of that truly great man, ample justice will be done him in after ages, I am sure, among all ranks and classes of opinion. However, as I do not profess to write a history of the events of the war or of the public characters engaged in it, I will return to my own private journal.

The Americans had for some time past, as I have mentioned, been preparing fire-ships. This we knew from our spies. We had a number of them on shore, or rather, there were a number of royalists who, having no wish to join the rebellion, were ready by every means in their power to aid in putting it down. A considerable number of these had been removed by the rebel authorities, both from Long Island and the adjacent districts, into the interior. Many were imprisoned, and some few who had been discovered communicating with our party were executed as spies. Even among the very men who were about Washington himself some were found not true to him, and it was reported that plots had been laid, if not against his life, at all events against his liberty, so that it would not have surprised us had he been brought on board a prisoner. But to return to the subject of the fire-ships. On the night of the 10th of August I had been put in charge of one of the squadron of boats always held in readiness to repel any attack from those dangerous engines of warfare. It had just gone four-bells in the first watch, the night was cloudy though it was calm and sultry, when the Eagle, Captain Duncan, made the signal that the enemy's fire-ships were approaching. The officer in command of our boat squadron repeated the signal. "Give way, my lads, give way?" he shouted, and away we all pulled up the harbour. It was necessary to be silent and cautious in the extreme, however, as soon as we had quitted the fleet. We made the best of our way, for time might be of importance. The night was very dark, the water was smooth and the foam which bubbled up at our bows of the boats and fell in showers from the blades of our oars sparkled brilliantly, as if composed of grains of burnished gold.

Ahead of us lay the devoted city against which our arms were soon to be turned, and from whose neighbourhood we expected every instant to see the fire-ships issue forth. At length the order was passed from boat to boat that we should lay on our oars to await the expected event. Hour after hour, however, went by. Now there was an alarm that some dark bodies were seen moving down towards us, but no vessels made their appearance, and at last the near approach of dawn warned us that it was time to pull back to our ships to escape an attack by the enemy. We of course kept a look-out astern, to be certain that the fire-ships were not following us, and then lay on our oars again in the neighbourhood of the fleet. Either the alarm was a false one or the rebels, aware of our preparations, saw that it would be useless to send out the fire-ships.

This was the last night I was thus engaged, for on the 13th of August, to my very great satisfaction, my eyes fell on the Orpheus standing up the harbour and taking up her berth among the fleet. I did not, however, get my discharge from the Chatham till the following day, when, accompanied by old Grampus, Tom Rockets, and my two other men, I lost no time in pulling on board, after an absence of ten weeks. I was warmly greeted by my messmates, and we each had our adventures to recount. She had taken seven prizes, most of which she brought in with her. Poor Lee, the surgeon's second mate, was, they told me, at the point of death. His constitution was unfit to cope with the hard life to which he was exposed in the navy. He died soon afterwards, and on the morning of the 16th we carried him on shore on Staten Island, where he rests in an unknown grave in the land of the stranger.

The same day we sailed and steered a course for Cape May, with, the intention of proceeding up the Delaware river to Philadelphia. My account of the way in which I had frightened off the privateer highly delighted my shipmates, and Captain Hudson was pleased to approve of my conduct. We had on board forty masters of merchantmen which had been captured by the different ships-of-war. They were mostly very decent men, some of them not unlike my friend Mr Scuttle. We treated them with every kindness and attention in our power. On the 24th we arrived off Cape Henlopen, opposite Cape May, at the entrance of Delaware Bay. Here we hove-to, and Captain Hudson ordered me to go on shore with a flag of truce, to land the masters of the merchantmen.

As we neared the shore I observed a body of men drawn up as if prepared to receive me. They were military, but had it not been for fear of hurting the feelings of the people who were with me, I could have thrown myself back in the stern sheets and enjoyed a hearty fit of laughter. Not two were armed or dressed alike. Some had high-boots, others shoes, many had on moccasins, and not a few jack-boots; several had their legs encased in hay-bands; hats of all shapes and sizes graced their heads. Cocked hats and round hats and caps, and Spanish hats, and helmets even were not uncommon. Some wore breeches of truly Dutch build, others of as scanty dimensions as could cover them—some had trousers, and others scarcely any covering to that portion of their persons. Their coats were of every colour, shape, and size. Green and blue and brown and grey; some were of red, though not a little soiled, being evidently of ancient date, while there were long coats and great coats and short coats and spencers and cloaks; indeed, every species of covering invented to hide the nakedness of the human body. While the men themselves were tall and short and thin and stout and straight and crooked. No one had been refused admission into the corps. Their arms were as various in construction as their costumes. There were muskets and rifles and pikes and matchlocks, and pistols which had been used at Culloden, and some even, I fancy, in the civil war of the Commonwealth, while a few even had contented themselves with pitchforks, scythes, and reaping-hooks. The officers were as independent as to uniformity as the men, and not less picturesque, though more comfortably dressed. Each man had exercised his own taste in his endeavour to give himself a military appearance, though I must say they had most lamentably failed in the result. I honestly confess, as I was speaking to them, that I was forcibly reminded of the appearance my old shipmates and I cut when we first presented ourselves on board the Torbay at the commencement of my naval career.

My orders were to land the prisoners and to return to the ship as soon as possible. I had therefore time only to exchange a few words with the officers, who were inclined to be very civil, and when the masters of the vessels told them how they had been treated on board the Orpheus they were still more disposed to be friendly. At that time the bitter feeling against Great Britain, which it must be owned she brought on herself by her injustice and dictatorial conduct, had not then been so universally stirred up.

"Now, my lads," shouted the commander of the party as I was stepping into my boat, "that young officer is a good fellow so let us give him three cheers."

"Hip, hip, hip, hurrah!" broke from the throats of all the regiment in good hearty style.

I turned round as I was shoving off and bowed and waved my hat, and I parted on the most amiable terms from those heroes, so like the ragged regiment headed by the redoubtable Sir John Falstaff.

We had great fun on board as I described them—Frank Mercer alone looked grave.

"Does it not strike you," said he, "that the very fact of the want of uniformity in their outward man shows the unanimity of sentiment which pervades them and makes them flock round the standard of liberty to defend their rights as freemen, regardless of outward appearance? Those poor fellows, though doubtless very inferior to regular troops, would not shed their blood less willingly or behave less bravely in the face of an enemy."

"Oh, you are a rebel, Mercer, you are a rebel!" we all shouted; "don't talk treason here."

"I only talk truth," answered Mercer gravely.

Since then I have been much inclined to agree with him.

We had a speedy voyage back, without taking a prize, and reached New York harbour on the 27th of August. A considerable number of ships-of-war and transports had arrived during our absence, having on board large reinforcements. Among them were a large body of Hessian troops, who had been hired from the Landgrave of Hesse-Cassel and the Duke of Brunswick, especially to put down the American rebellion. They were well disciplined, but fierce, ruthless troops, who murdered and plundered without hesitation whenever they had the opportunity, and were naturally dreaded and hated by the enemy. Besides the troops which had come from Europe, a large body of men had arrived from the South, under the command of Sir Henry Clinton, who, in conjunction with Sir Peter Parker, had retired from an unsuccessful attempt to capture Charleston, in South Carolina, which, after the evacuation of Boston, it was considered important to occupy. I afterwards served under Sir Peter Parker and heard all the particulars, some of which I now introduce to make my brief account of the contest more complete.

At the entrance of Charleston harbour, on the right hand, is Sullivan's Island, about six miles below the city. To the east of Sullivan's Island is Long Island, from which it is separated by a creek called the Breach. On the south-west point of Sullivan's Island was a strong fort, though composed only of earth and palmetto wood. As palmetto wood is soft and does not splinter, it was especially suited for the purpose. The squadron, under Sir Peter Parker, consisted of the Bristol, Experiment, Active, Solebay, Actaeon, Syren, and other smaller craft. While Sir Henry Clinton landed his troops on Long Island Sir Peter undertook to attack the fort, which was commanded by Colonel Moultrie. General Lee, however, with a large force, had by rapid marches advanced to the protection of the city. The Thunder-bomb began the action, during which the Sphinx, Syren, and Actaeon ran foul of each other and got on shore. The two first hauled off, but the Actaeon remained, and was ultimately abandoned and burned. The fire was most tremendous and deadly on both sides, but the British suffered the most; indeed, seldom have ships been exposed to a more terrific battering, or stood it with greater heroism and perseverance. On board that small squadron there were no less than sixty-four men killed and one hundred and forty-three wounded. At one time on the deck of the Bristol Sir Peter himself, amidst the deadly shower, alone stood unhurt. Captain Morris, of the Actaeon, was killed, as was Lord Campbell, late governor of the province, serving as a volunteer on board. Captain Scott, of the Experiment, lost his arm. The Bristol was completely unrigged; her guns were dismounted and her top-masts shot away. In vain Sir Peter looked for the assistance he expected from Sir Henry. Each time the troops attempted to cross from Long Island they were foiled by the bold front presented by a body of Americans with artillery. At length, the carnage growing more appalling than ever, and their hope of success diminishing, Sir Peter ordered them to make their way out of action. This event took place on the 28th of June. Other unsuccessful attempts were made to capture the fort, and in a few days the troops were re-embarked and the squadron came northward. I did not hear that the Phoenix, Rose, and Tryall did much execution up the Hudson. They had some encounters with the enemy's row-boats and exchanged shots occasionally with the troops on shore; while they had constantly to be on the watch at night to prevent the attack of fire-ships; but their chief object was evidently to survey the river, to enable the fleet to proceed upwards if necessary. As the river is very broad, in many places expanding into almost lakes, they were able to anchor at all times out of gun shot distance. Having accomplished their object, they left the river on the 18th, exchanging a brisk fire with the forts in their passage.

I must now give a sketch of one of the most sanguinary encounters it has ever been my lot to witness, and which, had we arrived a day later, I should have missed seeing.

People in England were apt to fancy that the rebels were officered by a set of planters or merchants, and to treat them accordingly with superciliousness and contempt, instead of which, besides General Washington, there were many who had been engaged from their youth upward in border warfare, not only with Indians, but with the disciplined troops of France. Many had aided in the conquest of Canada, while others had served in the armies of England and other European powers, and had experience equal to those to whom they were opposed, wanting only titular or official rank; while all were better acquainted with the country and were animated with the warmest patriotism and belief in the justice of their cause. Their great deficiency was in the discipline of their men, who, though not wanting in bravery, had but little discretion and no experience in general, while the subaltern officers were destitute also of the same necessary qualities. Some of their regiments, however, had been brought into very fair discipline, and were well officered. The great fault of the British, I must remark, as I shall have frequently to do, was over-confidence and a contempt of the foe with whom they were contending. On the present occasion, however, no imputation of that sort could be cast on the British commanders. The main body of the Americans were entrenched in a strong position at Brooklyn, at the end of Long Island, directly opposite New York, from which it is divided by a strait about three quarters of a mile in width, called East River. Directly down the centre of the island is a ridge of rocky hills, covered with wood. Across these hills were three roads leading from the side of the island, opposite Staten Island, where our troops would naturally land. These three passes were held by different bodies of American troops. The whole American force was under the command of General Putnam, though it was said Washington himself frequently crossed from New York to aid in the defence of the position. Previous to the 27th a large portion of our army, including two brigades of Hessians, had crossed over from Staten Island, and, landing between Gravesend and Flatland, some of them encamped in that neighbourhood, while the Hessians pushed on to a place called Flatbush. On the evening of the 26th the whole army advanced, Sir Henry Clinton leading the light infantry, Lord Percy following with the grenadiers, flying artillery, and light dragoons, while Lord Cornwallis, accompanied by Lord Howe, brought up the rear-guard with the heavy ordnance. About two hours before daybreak they arrived at the neighbourhood of the hills, when they discovered that the pass to the east, called the Bedford Pass, was unoccupied. He at once led his division through it, and thus turned the left of the American position. In the meantime General Grant had advanced with another division from Gravesend past Gowanus Cowe, on the road by the Narrows towards the right of the American position. As soon as it was daylight he formed his troops directly opposite the enemy, where he waited to hear that Sir Henry had commenced the attack. General De Heister, who commanded the Hessians, had kept up a hot fire with his artillery on a redoubt in front of the lines from his camp at Flatbush, which he ultimately stormed, while Lord Cornwallis, advancing on the centre, was bravely opposed by Lord Stirling who had taken up arms on the side of the Americans. One of our ships was all the time discharging a heavy cannonade on the battery at Red Hook, near which we also were brought up to join in the action had it been necessary, and whence from the maintop, where I with others had gone, I had a tolerably perfect view of many of the proceedings. Hemmed in on all sides, as I have described, and pressed on by overwhelming numbers of disciplined troops, the Americans, after a desperate and brave resistance, at length gave way, and then commenced a most indiscriminate and dreadful slaughter. They were cut down and trampled on by the cavalry, bayoneted by the savage Hessians, and torn in pieces by the artillery. Some rallied for a time and defended themselves with their rifles, behind rocks and trees, and at length, by a desperate effort, cut their way through their foes to the lines. Lord Stirling, who had fought bravely throughout the day, surrendered himself as a prisoner to General De Heister, two hundred and fifty of the brave fellows he had led lying dead around him. General Sullivan and several other officers were taken, endeavouring to cover the retreat of their troops. The enemy in all lost in killed alone full fifteen hundred men besides others who were smothered in the mud as they were endeavouring to escape from the Hessian bayonets. These, with wounded and prisoners, made up their loss to nearly three thousand men out of scarcely more than five thousand engaged.

It is a dreadful sight to witness slaughter such as this was, when one's blood is cold and one sits a mere spectator of the fight. I felt all the time more inclined to side with the poor Americans as they were flying from our victorious troops than to wish for the success of the latter. I heard a deep groan near me as I was seated in the maintop. I looked round. It was Frank Mercer. He was as pale as death. I thought he would have fallen on deck. At times he would shade his eyes with his hand, and then again he would gaze earnestly at the dreadful sight as if unable to resist its horrid fascination. Of course I have not described half the events of the day.

The Americans retreated within their lines and the British troops advanced close up to them. It was supposed that General Howe would give the order to storm the works. Had he done so at once they would certainly have been taken, and though with some considerable loss of life, it might have prevented much subsequent greater loss. However, it appeared that he had resolved to attack the lines by regular approaches. General Washington, seeing the inevitable result, made a masterly retreat with the whole garrison across the sound to New York during the night, favoured by calm weather and a thick fog. Notice was brought in the morning to General Howe of what had occurred, and when one of his aides-de-camp, who was sent to ascertain the fact, climbed over the crest of the works he found them of a truth deserted. The next day no less than thirteen hundred Americans were buried in one large pit, while many more had been lost in the creek and swamp near the lines.

It was the general opinion, both in the camp and fleet, that had the army at once been pushed forward, a speedy and happy conclusion would have been brought to the war. There were all sorts of reports current. Among them it was said that the city was about to be abandoned and burnt to the ground, to prevent our troops occupying it for the winter. This proceeding, however, the inhabitants strongly opposed, as all their property would thereby have been destroyed. I must not delay the progress of my narrative to mention the various reports of all sorts which were flying about.

On the 30th we again put to sea, Captain Hudson having under his command the Niger and Greyhound frigates. We cruised off Sandy Hook without meeting with any occurrence worth noting till the 3rd of September, when we returned to Sandy Hook. Here we received orders once more to proceed to sea, to look out for a fleet of transports, with a division of Hessians on board, daily expected from Europe, under convoy of the Repulse. We fortunately fell in with them on the following morning, and returned in their company to Gravesend Day.

On the 8th we moved up to Staten Island, and we began to hope that we at length might be engaged in some more active service than we had hitherto seen.

"Have you heard the news?" exclaimed Delisle two days afterwards, as I came on deck for the first time that morning.

I inquired what it was.

"We are to move up at once opposite New York and to prepare the ship for running past the batteries up the East River."

"Hurra! the hotter the better; anything better than stagnation!" I exclaimed.

"Mercer, have you made your will?" asked Kennedy, as the two met each other near us.

"Yes, Kennedy, I have," answered Mercer gravely. "It may not be to-day or to-morrow that it will come into force, but it may before long, and I wish that those I may not help living may benefit by my death."

Kennedy had nothing to reply to this; Mercer's solemn manner silenced him.

"What does Mercer mean? Does he think he is going to be killed?" asked little Harry Sumner, who was standing by.

"It may be the lot of anyone of us, my boy," said I. "Though I hope the enemy's shot won't find you out at all events."

"I hope not indeed," replied Harry. "I should like to go home and describe all the places I have seen and the things we have done."

As I looked at our young pet I felt how hard a thing it was that so small a lad should be exposed to all the vicissitudes of warfare.

Macallan had overheard us. "It's my opinion that Mercer has seen his wraith," he remarked sententiously. "There's a grave, dour look about his pale countenance which a man who is long for this world never wears."

We all agreed that there was too much truth about the doctor's observation, though we trusted he might be mistaken. I have heard many conversations of this sort, and many of my shipmates and others whom I have known have had presentiments of their approaching death. Some have been killed on the occasion they expected, while others who appeared equally certain of being summoned away have come out of action without scratch. Others, again, whom I have seen laughing and jesting as if they had a long lease of life before them, have, within a few hours perhaps, been stretched lifeless on the deck. I have come to the conclusion, therefore, that no one can tell when his last moment is to come, and that consequently it behoves us all to be prepared at all times for that unavoidable occurrence.

Among the ships lying near us was the Roebuck, of 44 guns, commanded by Captain Andrew Snape Hamond, (note 1), a very active and intelligent officer. I knew several of her officers. Among them was an old friend of mine, Hitchcock, belonging to Falmouth. I dined with him a day or two after this, and in return invited him to dine with me on board the Orpheus.

"I'll come," said he; "depend upon me, I'll not let the rebels stop me."

"I shall keep you to your promise," I replied, as I was shoving off.

We had prepared the ship for action for some days by clearing away all bulkheads fore and aft, and sending everything not absolutely required below. Still several days passed by and nothing was done. It was understood that Lord Howe and Dr Franklin were negotiating at this time, as the result proved, without any effect. Lord Howe to the last was anxious to prevent more bloodshed, and hoped to bring the colonists to terms, but as they now considered themselves an independent people, and he had the authority to treat with them in that capacity, he was powerless.

At length, on the 21st of September, towards three o'clock in the afternoon, the admiral made the signal for us to weigh. Each man with alacrity hurried to his quarters. Never was sail more speedily got on the ship. The Phoenix, Roebuck, Carrisfort, and Rose were seen spreading their canvas at the same time to a very light air which blew from the westward. I must try and describe the scene of our operations. Before us lay a long, narrow strip of land called Manhattan Island, about thirteen miles long and from half a mile to two wide, on the south end of which stands the City of New York, while on the north end are some hills called the Harlem Heights. It is divided from the mainland on the north by a creek called the Harlem River, over which there is a bridge called King's Bridge. The west of Manhattan Island is washed by the River Hudson, which separates it from the New Jersey shore, while part of the Sound, which is called the East River, runs round it on the south and east, dividing it from Long Island, till it is joined by the Harlem River on the north. The Harlem River forms a direct communication between the Hudson and East River. That part of it nearest the Hudson was called by the Dutch Spuyten Duyvel Creek, while the east end, where it joins East River, has the still less pleasant sounding name of Hell Gate. Near it was a strong battery. Nearly in the centre of East River, opposite the south point of New York, is Governor's Island, which was strongly fortified. There were batteries along the whole line of the shore on Manhattan Island. Slowly and solemnly our squadron approached the shore. Perfect silence reigned throughout the ship. For some time not a shot was fired. Captain Hudson had been keeping a sharp look-out on the enemy's batteries as we approached.

"Pass the word along the decks that every man and officer is to lie down at his quarters!" he exclaimed.

The judicious order was at once obeyed. The same precaution was not used by the other ships. At half-past three, when we were within pistol-shot of the city, the enemy opened their fire. We were so close and moved so slowly that scarcely a shot missed us, literally riddling the ship, as if we had been a butt put up to be fired at.

"How do you like this?" I asked of young Sumner, who was near me.

"Not at all just now," he answered. "I only wish that the captain would let us get up and fire back on the enemy. I thought that was always done when people fight."

"Sometimes one has to be battered at as well as to batter, as in the present instance," I answered. "But depend on it, we shall be allowed to take our revenge before long."

"Oh, I wish those dreadful cannon-balls would not come so close to one," sung out poor Harry, half playfully, half in earnest, as a round shot came crashing through the bulwark close to where we lay, throwing the splinters about us, ploughing up the deck, and passing out at a port on the other side.

"I thought you were not going to be frightened, Harry, my boy," said I.

"Nor should I, I tell you, if I could but be firing in return," he answered. "Besides, it is the first time I was ever in action, and I have heard that the bravest men are apt to bob their heads on such occasions. Perhaps when I get accustomed to it I shall care as little as anyone for it."

"I have no doubt you will, Harry," I replied; and most truly the noble little fellow did not disappoint my expectations. With proud defiance the squadron continued its onward course, still desisting from firing, as if invulnerable to the showers of round shot and bullets which came whistling about them. The enemy were in general firing too high to do much injury except to our rigging; the splinters which flew from our topmasts and yards and came showering down every now and then on deck, and the strange festoons our rigging began to form, the ends of ropes hanging here and there, and the numerous holes exhibited in our sails showed the effect their unremitting fire had caused. Sometimes the wind was so light that we had little more than steerage way, when instantly guns were brought round to attack us. Still we had not performed half our distance. I must own that never, when in chase of an enemy, or when attacked by gun-boats, or when finding my ship set on shore by a strong current, have I more earnestly prayed than now for a breeze to carry us onward. Nothing so much damps the ardour of men as having to sit quiet and be fired at without having the power of returning the compliment. Few can stand it except Turks and Englishmen; Turks because they fancy it is their fate, Englishmen because they know it is their duty. As the shot came crashing among us and the blocks and splinters from the spars and other parts of the rigging came tumbling down on our heads, a growl might every now and then be heard from some of the seamen very like that given by a savage dog chained up as a stranger approaches his kennel and he finds after repeated trials that he has come to the length of his tether. I really felt it a relief when I had to move about the decks on any duty, as was the case occasionally when a slight shift of wind or an alteration in our course made it necessary to trim sails, though I was thus exposed to a much greater risk of losing the number of my mess. Not a man could show his head above the hammock nettings but he was sure to become the mark of a hundred riflemen who were poking out their weapons from the windows of the houses which looked so peaceably at us. As I went about the decks I amused myself by remarking the different expressions worn by the countenances of the men. With respect to the greater number it was that of calm indifference, as if not aware that they were running any unusual risk of their lives. Some seemed to see the danger, but to brave it; many were laughing and joking among themselves, while a few, and only a few, were evidently in no small terror of being hit. I passed near Tom Rockets. His countenance told me that I need have no fear of his doing me discredit. Old Grampus was near him, looking as calm as if he was sitting down to his dinner.

"I have been telling the youngster, sir," said he, "that one of the first things a seaman has to learn is how to bear the hardships it may please Providence to send him, whether he has to be shot at, as he has now, or to suffer famine on a raft or desert island, or to have the sea breaking over him on a wreck or on the cold, slippery rocks. Maybe he'll have to try them all before he settles down with a wooden leg, ashore in his own cottage, or bears up for Greenwich, as I hopes to do one day."

Tom listened to this very gravely, but I suspect old Nol had been amusing himself somewhat at his expense. Hour after hour passed by, and the ship proudly held on her course round Manhattan Island till we reached the eastern side beyond the city, where, at a spot called Kip's Bay, about two miles from it, the squadron at length, at about seven o'clock, dropped anchor in front of a long line of entrenchments which the enemy had thrown up.

Captain Hudson, having to communicate with Captain Hamond, sent me on board the Roebuck. Having delivered my message, I inquired for my friend Hitchcock.

"He is here," said Collins, a midshipman I had addressed, lifting up an ensign which was spread near the mainmast.

There lay the poor fellow who was to have dined with me that day, so lately full of life and spirits, now stiff and stark. A rifle-bullet had passed through his heart. Several other men had been killed and wounded on board. Such is one of the chances of war. I returned sadly on board my own ship. In those days such an occurrence had but a very transitory effect.

As soon as the enemy found that we were to be stationary for a while, some guns were brought up, which began playing on us, and kept up a no very musical serenade during the night. The shots struck the ships occasionally; but the guns were very badly served, and did little or no execution. Their music did not prevent me sleeping soundly, and preparing to take my share in the hot work in which we were about to gage.

The next day we received orders to attack the batteries at Hell Gate. Lord Howe could not have been informed of the true nature of the place, or he would not have issued the order. The pilots, however, positively refused to take up the ships, asserting, and not without good grounds, that they would inevitably be lost. At all events, I believe that by their determination we escaped a severe chastisement from the enemy. We therefore, with the exception of a little cannonading, spent another quiet night with whole skins in Kip's Bay.

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Note 1. Afterwards Sir Andrew Hamond, Bart, and father of the late Admiral Sir Graham Hamond, Admiral of the Fleet, and grandfather of the present Captain Sir Andrew Hamond, Bart.—Editor.



CHAPTER FIVE.

A BRIGHT MORNING AND A DARK DAY.—ATTACK ON NEW YORK.—MERCER SHOWS HIS SYMPATHY WITH THE AMERICANS.—THE BATTLE RAGES.—FIELD OF BATTLE.— ASSIST A WOUNDED AMERICAN.—FIRED AT BY OUR FRIENDS.—ANOTHER TRIP ON SHORE.—FALL INTO THE HANDS OF HESSIAN TROOPS.—RESCUED BY GENERAL PIGOT.—SENT WITH DESPATCHES TO LORD HOWE.—MY BOAT'S CREW MUTINY.—NEW YORK ON FIRE.—TREATMENT OF SUPPOSED INCENDIARIES.—REMARKS ON THE WAR.—THE CONDEMNED SPY.—MERCER PLEADS FOR HIM IN VAIN.—HIS EXECUTION.

By early dawn on the morning of the 23rd of September, 1776, every one was astir. The sultry atmosphere alone, even under ordinary circumstances, would have made us glad to leave our berths. It had become known that a combined attack by the land and sea forces was to be made on the enemy. The mighty sun rose over Long Island in a blaze of glory, and shot upward into a cloudless sky as the anchor was lifted. Fold after fold of our white canvas was let fall, and the other ships of the squadron following our example, we once more moved onward along the shore of Manhattan Island.

The scene was one of great beauty. The rays of the bright luminary fell on the wood-crowned heights of Harlem on one side, and of Morrissania on the other side of the creek, throwing the promontories into bold relief, and the bays and inlets, with which the coast is indented, into deeper shade, while rich fields, and meadows and orchards, as they basked in the soft morning light, gave the whole landscape an appearance of calmness and peace, soon to be broken by the rude realities of fierce, unrelenting warfare.

As soon as we weighed anchor the troops of the enemy, who had been watching us under arms since dawn, began to march along the shore close to us, regardless of the danger they ran of destruction, for had we opened our broadsides, we might have played sad havoc among them. They were not quite so fantastically dressed as my friends at Cape Henlopen, but still there was a very great variety of costume, and a lamentable want of discipline among them. If the front rank did not advance fast enough, the rear would give them a shove or a kick to urge them on, all the time making significant and not very complimentary signs to us to come on shore and fight them, while they tried to express their supreme contempt for us by every means in their power, shouting out taunting words, and abusing us in no measured terms.

Our men had two days before stood the battering we got with comparative calmness, but the taunts and signs of the foe now enraged them beyond all endurance.

"Wait a bit, my lads, and then won't we give it you!" sung out Dick Trunnion, a sturdy topman, and many similar expressions were uttered by others.

"Oh, Muster Hurry, don't yer think the captain would let us go ashore, and give them chaps the drubbing they deserves?" asked Tom Rockets as I passed, doubling his fists while he spoke. "I'd like to give them a hiding."

"Never mind them, lads," said old Grampus, turning his back to the shore, and looking over his shoulder at the foe with a glance of supreme contempt. "They knows no better; and fancies because we don't hit we can't. Poor fellows! I pities them, that I do. They bees little better than savinges, only they wants the paint and feathers."

I felt very much as Nol said he did; but I suspect that his anger was rather more excited than he chose to confess. The truth was that these were mostly raw militia regiments, who had seen little or nothing of warfare, and from the previous occurrences of the war had been taught to look with contempt on British prowess. The regulars in most instances behaved admirably, and nothing could surpass the bravery of the officers of all ranks. This their greatest enemies could not deny; but the militia were of a very different stamp, and the men, unable to depend on each other or their officers, on several occasions fairly turned tail and ran away. I fancy that most of our opponents on the present occasion were of that class. We stood on till we reached a spot about fifty yards from the enemy's entrenchments, a little below Blackwell's Island, where the squadron dropped their anchors, and calmly furled sails. There we lay for some time without exchanging a shot, expecting, however, that some hot work was about to be commenced. The glasses of the officers were in the meantime constantly turned towards the small islets in the direction of Long Island. At length Captain Hudson uttered an exclamation of satisfaction.

"They come! they come!" he cried out, and as he spoke a flotilla of boats were seen emerging from among the tree-covered shores of Bushwick Creek. They formed the first division of flat-bottomed boats, having on board a force of 4500 men, under the immediate command of General Howe. Slowly and steadily they advanced, like some huge black monsters covering the blue surface of the tranquil and hitherto peaceful Sound. The drum now beat to quarters.

"Now my boys, if so be you want to punish them poor savinges as has been beguiling you, your time's soon coming," growled out old Nol, as the crew were hurrying with alacrity to their guns.

The only person whose countenance showed no satisfaction was Mercer. Pale as death, he stood at his post over his division of guns; but I saw that he would rather have died a hundred deaths than engage in the work he felt it was his duty to perform. From my heart I pitied him. There was but little time, however, for thinking of that or any other matter. On came the flotilla of boats. Not a shot had as yet disturbed the calm tranquillity of the scene. A thin, gauze-like mist was spread over the distant portions of the landscape. The hot sun struck down on our heads; the blue expanse of water glittered in his bright rays, and the sea-fowl skimmed over it, dipping their wings ever and anon, as if to refresh them in the liquid element. Everything still wore an aspect of perfect peace. The boats at last got within fifty yards of the ships. A signal flew out from the mast-head of the Phoenix—the knell of many a human being. It was the signal to engage.

"Fire away, my lads," was shouted along the decks. It was not necessary to repeat the order. Never did a crew work their guns with more alacrity. The shot rushed like a storm of gigantic hailstones among the ill-fated Americans, tearing up their entrenchments and scattering the earth and palisades far and wide. In a very short time the fortifications in which they had trusted were blown to atoms; still we fired on as fast as our guns could be loaded and run out. The enemy answered us from various points; but with little effect. In a few short moments, how changed was the scene from what it had lately been! Now from point to point, and through every sheltered nook and bay resounded the roar of cannon, the rattle of musketry, the shouts of the combatants, the shrieks and groans and agonising cries of the wounded, while above all hung a dark, funereal pall of smoke, ascending from the scene of strife, shutting it out as it were from the bright blue glorious firmament above, and, if it could be, from the all-searching eye of the Creator of men who were thus disfiguring His image by their furious passions, and dishonouring Him by the infraction of all the precepts of that mild, that beneficent religion, which He in His unsearchable love sent His only Son to teach them to obey.

But where am I driving to? I did not think thus at the time. No; my blood was up; my evil passions were aroused; and I was as eager as anyone to shed blood, and utterly careless of all the consequences to myself and others. Never have I witnessed a more tremendous fire than was kept up by our ships for fifty-nine minutes, during which time in the Orpheus alone we expended 5366 pounds of powder. I kept no note of the number of shot we fired away. The very first broadside made a considerable breach in the enemy's works. At the end of the time I have mentioned the boats advanced, and the signal was made to cease firing. As they touched the beach the men sprang on shore, and, forming rapidly, gallantly rushed towards the entrenchments with fixed bayonets and loud cheers. The enemy scarcely waited to deliver their fire, but, throwing down their arms, fled on all sides in the utmost terror and confusion, earnestly petitioning for quarter. The red-coats leaped through the breaches made by our guns, and over the embankments, and were speedily in possession of the enemy's works. As the smoke cleared away, the ground far and near appeared covered with the bodies of the slain and wounded, some with arms, others with legs, shot away, while parties of fugitives were seen flying in every direction, pursued by our men, especially by the Hessians, who seemed little disposed to give the quarter which was asked.

I was not only a spectator but a participator in what I have been describing. As soon as the ships ceased firing, our boats, of which I commanded one, were ordered to aid in towing the flat-bottomed boats on shore. As soon as the troops had landed, leaving Grampus in charge of my boat, I, with another midshipman and Tom Rockets and two other men, followed them into the entrenchments, and found myself shortly in the rear of a body of Hessians as they charged over the ground. A poor American was flying for his life, shrieking out for mercy. One of those savage mercenaries either did not or would not understand him, and before I could interpose had with a sweep of his sword severed his head from his body, then, in savage triumph worthy of a Red Indian, sticking it on a pole, carried it through the entrenchments, shouting out as if he had performed some noble act of heroism.

Meantime several of the ship's boats were ordered to pull along-shore to annoy the enemy in their flight and to prevent them from rallying. My friend Hargrave and I, midshipmanlike and thoughtless of danger, set off in the direction the enemy had taken along the shore, picking up a number of articles which in their terror they had dropped or thrown away, such as rifles, pistols, swords, spy-glasses, and even watches, plate, and camp utensils of various sorts, which we knew would be most acceptable to our mess. We passed many of the slain, knocked over in their flight. As we ran thoughtlessly on, very little moved by these sights, to which even the youngsters were becoming familiar, I heard a deep groan. Looking round, I saw behind a bush a militiaman stretched on the ground with a bad wound in his side.