In the Mary we were stinted in nothing that could be readily procured; and having a cook who prided himself on his skill in manufacturing hoe-cakes, oyster fritters, clam chowders, turtle stews and the like, I am free to confess that so far as related to GOOD LIVING, I never passed three months more satisfactorily than while I was on board the Mary of Newbern. I often compared it with my wretched fare on board the Schooner John, or with my "short commons" in the Liverpool Infirmary, and the result was decidedly in favor of the North Carolina coaster.

The inhabitants of the district bordering on Ocracoke Inlet, as a body, were not remarkable for industrious habits, or sober and exemplary lives. Fishing and piloting, I have already said, constituted their chief business. Many, being too lazy to work, indulged themselves in lounging, drinking, betting, cock-fighting, and similar amusements. One redeeming virtue, however, they possessed, which is not always met with among the sedate, thrifty, and moral portion of mankind hospitality! They were frank, open-hearted, and compassionate; professed no virtues which they did not practise; would throw open their doors to the stranger, welcome him to their dwellings, and freely share their last dollar with a friend.

The news reached Portsmouth by the pilot boat that Captain Thompson had arrived from New York, and had brought the pamphlet which proclaimed the destruction of the world. The people took a deep interest in the subject. The men visited the schooner by scores; and as most of them were unable to read, through the infirmities of ignorance and "weak eyes," my literary powers were put in requisition, and again and again I was compelled to read aloud, for their edification, the conglomeration of absurdities which the prophet had put forth. They listened with attention; and it was amusing to hear their strange remarks and queer logic in favor of or against the prediction. The effect upon the minds of some of these children of the sandy isles was undoubtedly beneficial. It led them to think; it brought the Bible directly before them, and reminded them that whether the pamphlet was true or false a day of judgment was at hand.

The wind having changed, we crossed "the Swash," entered the Sound, and soon reached the mouth of the River Neuse. This is a stream of considerable importance, being four hundred miles in length, and draining a large tract of country. It is navigable for boats about one half that distance. An immense quantity of produce is brought down the river from the interior of the state and deposited at Newbern, whence it is shipped to different parts of the world.

Newbern is situated about forty or fifty miles from Pamlico sound, on the south-west bank of the Neuse, and at the junction of that river with the Trent. It was, in 1812, a pleasant and flourishing town, containing about three thousand inhabitants, who carried on a prosperous business to the West Indies, and who employed many vessels in the coasting trade.

On reaching Newbern the crew were discharged, the voyage being terminated. Captain Thompson told me that the schooner would be sent on another voyage without delay, and if I was willing to remain and take charge of her at the wharf, keep an account of the cargo as it was delivered and received on board, I should be allowed the same wages I had been receiving, eight or ten dollars a month. I accepted the proposition without hesitation. Indeed, the arrangement was to the advantage of both parties; he secured at a low rate of compensation the services of one who could perform the duties or shipkeeper and mate combined, and I was provided with an asylum, board, lodging, plenty of work, and pay into the bargain.



Chapter XIX. A TRIP TO BALTIMORE

When we arrived at Newbern, the people, having heard of the dreadful prophecies, were prepared to receive the pamphlets and devour their contents. Cochran's name, connected with the day of judgment, was in every mouth. Groups collected at the corners of the streets and on the wharves, composed of persons of various characters and all complexions, and discussed the subject of the prediction with wonderful earnestness and intensity of feeling. Indeed, the excitement in Newbern and vicinity, caused by this pamphlet, was hardly exceeded in sober New England in 1839 and 1840, when the charlatan, Miller, by his ridiculous predictions, spread a panic through the land; when many persons, discarding the modicum of brains they were supposed to possess, abandoned their farms, neglected their families, gave away to wiser persons the little property they owned, and actually prepared their "ascension robes," to meet with decency and decorum the day of doom.

On the second day after our arrival at Newbern, when I had finished my labors for the day and was preparing for rest, Captain Thompson came hurriedly down the wharf and sprang on board the schooner. "Hawser," said he, as soon as he recovered breath, "you must rig yourself up a little and go with me to Captain Merritt's."

"What is going on there, sir, that requires my presence?"

"The boarders want you to read Cochran's pamphlet, and you MUST come."

"But I have no suitable clothes to rig myself up with, sir."

"Never mind your clothes. Wash your face, comb your hair, straighten up your collar, look in the glass, and you will do well enough. But bear a hand. They are waiting for you now."

I arranged my toilet in accordance with the captain's suggestions. When I gave it the finishing touch, by "looking in the glass," I was not satisfied, believing my costume could hardly reflect honor on the company; and my heart throbbed with emotion as I accompanied Captain Thompson to his boarding house. We entered the dining hall, the centre of which was occupied by a long table, around which were seated some fifteen or twenty well-dressed individuals, chiefly masters of vessels, and very different in their appearance and manner from the Ocracoke pilots. At the head of the table was an empty chair, towards which I was led by my conductor, who told me to be seated.

Naturally bashful, and conscious of my inferior position, I hardly knew whether I was asleep or awake; but was soon restored to my senses by Captain Thompson, who said, in an off-hand manner, "Hawser, these gentlemen are anxious to hear you read Cochran's pamphlet, which tells about the judgment day;" and he pushed towards me a copy of the prediction.

I took the familiar document and commenced my labors. My voice was tremulous at first, but I soon became accustomed to its sound, and as, by this time, I knew the greater portion of the book by heart, I got through the tissue of extravagance with great credit, not only to the prophet Cochran but myself.

My auditors listened with the closest attention, hardly seeming to breathe, and it was curious to mark the various expressions which their tell-tale countenances exhibited as I proceeded. After I had completed my task, the gentlemen breathed more freely, and stared at one another in silence. One or two were inclined to treat the prediction with levity, but their remarks were not well received. It was generally conceded that the subject was not a proper one for a joke. I received the thanks of several of my auditors for the acceptable manner in which I had performed my part in the drama. A few evenings afterwards I was again called upon to lay the contents of this everlasting pamphlet before another set of eager listeners! And I rejoiced when, with a full cargo of naval stores and Carolina notions, the schooner left the wharf, bound on a voyage to Baltimore.

On reaching Ocracoke Inlet, it appeared that the impression which the predictions of Cochran had made upon the minds of the inhabitants was not effaced. We lay at anchor there three days waiting for a wind to cross the bar, and every evening I was called upon to read chapters in the Bible for the edification of the worthy Ocracoke pilots, who probably had not heard a chapter of Scripture recited for years. The prophecy had taken a deep hold on the minds of some; and ribald jests and disgusting oaths were seldom heard in the neighborhood of "the Swash."

I was treated with kindness by Captain Thompson, and performed many of the duties of mate without occupying the station or receiving the pay. On the passage to Baltimore the captain exhibited occasional symptoms of piety, and at one time would listen to a chapter in the Bible with commendable gravity, and discourse seriously on serious subjects; half an hour afterwards he would resume his profane and disorderly habits, and chase away reflection by getting drunk! He was not at peace with himself; and he dearly loved whiskey and peach brandy.

It was a pleasant season of the year, and the trip to Baltimore, through the waters of the Chesapeake Bay, was an interesting one. I expected to find in Baltimore a distant relative, who had often visited my father's house; been for a time domiciled in his family, and had received repeated favors. He was now in a respectable position in Baltimore, and in the simplicity of my heart I longed to visit him, talk with him over family matters, and listen to words of advice and encouragement from a friend and relative.

We arrived at Baltimore on a Friday afternoon. I had spoken to Captain Thompson about my relative and my anticipations of a cordial welcome. His experience, however, had led him to entertain an unfavorable opinion of mankind in general, and he expressed a doubt whether a knowledge of my forlorn condition would not repel the advances and freeze the affectionate welcome which under other circumstances I might have expected. I was indignant at such an insinuation, and made known my intention to call upon my kinsman the next day, and put his feelings to the proof. The captain kindly aided my purpose. He received information from the wharfinger of the place of business and position of my relative; and on the following afternoon, after making myself look as respectable as possible, I proceeded, with a guide furnished by the wharfinger, to the counting room or office of my father's friend and protege in a distant part of the city.

I found him alone, writing at his desk, and recognized him immediately. But he stared at me, and inquired my business. I mentioned my name; upon which he seemed greatly astonished, bade me be seated, and questioned me about myself and connections. I told him the tale of my adventures, gave him the name of the schooner to which I belonged, the wharf at which she was lying, and also of the wharfinger, one of his intimate acquaintances, who had directed me to his office.

He expressed gratification that I had called upon him, said he should always be glad to hear of my welfare, and after a pause of a few minutes, rather gravely remarked that he would gladly render me any service in his power; but he was at that time busy, and requested me to visit him at his boarding house the next morning at nine o'clock, when he should have leisure to talk with me further. I returned to the schooner well satisfied with my reception, and recounted to Captain Thompson the particulars of the interview. The captain shook his head, and smiled incredulously.

The next morning, being Sunday, I put myself in what I considered passable trim, and proceeded with a light heart to the boarding house, which I found to be a handsome edifice in a genteel part of the city. I knocked at the door and inquired for my kinsman. The servant ushered me into a hall and left me. He was absent some time, during which I was an object of curiosity to several persons of both sexes who entered or left an adjoining apartment. One very pretty young woman seemed unpleasantly struck with my appearance, and expressed in audible tones her astonishment at my impertinence in entering the front door. The servant at length returned and said the gentleman I wanted was unwell, and could not be seen.

I was thunderstruck at this announcement, and declared it must be a mistake. I bade him return and tell the gentlemen I was the person whom he requested to call that morning at nine o'clock on important business. Some ten minutes elapsed; my pride took the alarm. Could he be inventing some paltry excuse for getting rid of what he might consider my importunities? The young woman again appeared who had before honored me with her notice, and who I presumed was the daughter of the woman who kept the house. She accosted me in a manner by no means flattering to my self-esteem, and told me the gentleman whom I so absolutely persisted in seeing was quite unwell, and unable to converse with any one that day; that I must come tomorrow or the day following, or some other day, when he would be quite well and at leisure! With a contemptuous toss of her pretty head, she showed me the door, and motioned me to depart.

"Tell him," said I, "that I shall not trouble him again." She smiled, as if my remark met her hearty approval, and closed the door with a slam!

I slowly returned, through the many magnificent thoroughfares of Baltimore, to the schooner. The streets were thronged with people elegantly dressed, who appeared to be rejoicing in their good fortune and happy in their friends and families. As I pensively wandered along, unnoticed and unknown, I felt all my loneliness, and began to think the prosperous and happy times would never arrive that had been promised in my dreams. The conduct of my relative disappointed me much. It shook my confidence in mankind, and paralyzed my small stock of self-esteem a quality essential to even ordinary success in life.

Captain Thompson, perceiving my dejected air, inquired into the particulars of my interview. I related to him the facts, but suggested excuses, and placed the matter in as favorable a light as the truth would admit. The straightforward sailor, however, saw through it all. He could not contain his indignation: after letting it explode in true sailor fashion, he concluded with this piece of practical philosophy: "Never mind, Hawser; 'tis the way of the world. I have always found it so. As for gratitude, affection, disinterested kindness, and friendship, 'tis all a humbug! RELY ON YOURSELF. Fight the battle of life alone. If you conquer, you will find friends, kind friends, disinterested friends. Ha, ha, ha! Cheer up, my boy."

I still clung to a hope that there was some mistake, perhaps a blunder on the part of the servant who delivered the message, and that I should receive a note or a visit the next day which would set the matter right. But neither note nor visit came. In a few days the schooner Mary left Baltimore on the return to Newbern.

On the passage, the captain was testy, petulant, and unhappy. The prophecy of Cochran had taken a stronger hold on his mind than he was willing to acknowledge. I was called upon to read aloud chapters in the Bible, and especially in the Book of Revelation, Knotty passages in the pamphlet I was also required to read from time to time. But the oftener they were read, and the more closely they were examined, the greater was the puzzle, the more complete the mystification.

We reached Ocracoke in the evening, and the next morning had a fair wind over the bar and across Pamlico Sound. This was the day on which the dreaded prediction was to be fulfilled. The sun rose in a clear, unclouded sky on the morning of that day, and its beams flashed brilliantly and benignly, as with a gentle breeze from the northward we entered the mouth of the River Neuse. There could not be a lovelier day. Even Captain Thompson felt apparently relieved of his anxiety as he looked abroad upon the beauties of nature and beheld no indications of the day of doom. He saw no anger in the heavens; he heard no moans from the distressed animals instinctively snuffing the near approach of danger and death; he breathed no stifled and sulphurous atmosphere nor witnessed any other sign of the near approach of a terrible calamity. He even ventured to express an opinion that "the prophecy of that old rascal Cochran would not prove true after all."

We reached Newbern in the afternoon, and found everybody gazing at the heavens with eager looks, in which it would be difficult to say whether fear or curiosity predominated. Many would not venture to bed till their hopes were made certain by the striking of the midnight hour; and then they were so overjoyed at what appeared a new lease of life, that sleep, that "sweet restorer," was a stranger during the night. In the morning, however, a gloom was again cast over the spirits of some of the most superstitious by the remark of a meddlesome old West India captain, that undoubtedly Cochran, like the seers of olden times, made his calculations according to the "old style" of computing time. Thus twelve additional days were allowed to pass before they dared give a full loose to their joy at the failure of the prediction.

After we had discharged our cargo in Newbern, I indicated to Captain Thompson that I should like to pass a few days on shore, take respite from labor, look around the town, and take note of the place and its inhabitants.

He admitted the reasonableness of my proposition, but took decided measures to prevent my being led astray by bad company. The worthy captain, although addicted to irregular habits himself, and in his own person and character a dangerous exemplar for a young man, watched my proceedings with the closest scrutiny, and lost no chance to impress on my mind correct rules of conduct. He particularly cautioned me against the habit of drinking intoxicating liquors. "It is," said he with a sigh, "a rock on which many a noble vessel has been wrecked." So much easier is it to preach than to practise.

With a view to insure my moral safety, Captain Thompson insisted that while I remained on shore I should stay at his boarding house and occupy the same room with himself. I accordingly took up my quarters at Captain Merritt's, where I was heartily welcomed by the landlord and his boarders.

The impression made upon my mind by the good people of Newbern was decidedly favorable. I was advised, by several substantial citizens to whom I was introduced, to make Newbern my home. I was assured that I should meet with success corresponding with my merits. I regarded the suggestion as a compliment; and having agreed to accompany Captain Thompson on another coasting voyage to New York, I determined to take the matter into consideration. I never returned to Newbern. But I have always felt grateful for the kind conduct and encouraging words which I received from the good people of that pleasant and flourishing city. Ever since that time the name of Newbern falls gently on my ear, and conjures up a thousand agreeable associations.

The owner of the Mary, Mr. Jarvis, was an active and enterprising man. He did not allow his vessels to remain idle. In a few days we had another cargo on board, and proceeded down the river on our way to New York. Being detained as usual at the Inlet, several of the pilots and other inhabitants of Portsmouth came on board, and the ribald jest, the oath, and the dram cup passed freely round. Cochran's pamphlet was consigned to oblivion. I was no longer called upon to read passages from the Holy Scriptures. Solemn looks and serious conversation were voted a bore. They laughed at their former fears; a reaction had taken place, and the struggle now seemed to be who should surpass his fellows in wickedness.

So much for Cochran's famous prediction, closely resembling in character that of Miller at a later day, and uttered with as much confidence and believed by as many persons. Morever, it is probable that Cochran was as sincere in his belief as Miller, perhaps more so, for the miserable man, finding his imagination had played him a trick, and that his prediction had not been fulfilled, overcome by mortification, and not supported by a pure religious principle, COMMITTED SUICIDE BY CUTTING HIS THROAT.

It is hardly worth while for man to attempt to solve mysteries in order to ascertain when the day of judgment will arrive. He should strive so to regulate his actions, that, let it come when it will, he need not fear the result.



Chapter XX. DECLARATION OF WAR

On our passage to New York we met with no remarkable occurrence, and saw not a cruiser of any nation. On reaching the city, we found that an extraordinary excitement prevailed. War had been declared against Great Britain; an American fleet under Commodore Rodgers had sailed the day before on a cruise. The frigate Essex was at Brooklyn with a complete and gallant crew, and her commander, Captain Porter, was making preparations for an immediate departure. This brave officer made no secret of his intention to bring the enemy to close quarters whenever a chance offered, and proclaimed throughout the frigate that any man who repented having shipped might receive his discharge.

One man only of the hundreds composing the crew availed himself of the captain's proclamation, under the plausible pretext that he was an Englishman. But it having been ascertained that so far from being a loyal subject of the king of Great Britain, he was a native-born Yankee with a cowardly spirit, his shipmates were so indignant that they tarred and feathered him, carried him over to New York, placed a placard on his breast, formed a procession, and paraded him through the streets.

There was a great bustle about the wharves in New York, although of a different kind from that which prevailed two months previous in consequence of the embargo. Clippers of all kinds and sizes were bought up at enormous prices, and rapidly transformed into privateers and letters of marque. Heavy guns, instead of bales of goods, were dragged through the streets by dray horses, and muskets, cutlasses, and boarding pikes met the eye at every turn. Fierce-looking men with juvenile mustachios jostled each other in the streets, and even the dapper clerks and peaceable artisans swore deeper oaths and assumed more swaggering airs. News of naval battles was anxiously looked for, startling rumors of all kinds were afloat, and every vessel which arrived was supposed to be fraught with momentous intelligence respecting the cruisers on the coast. I noted these proceedings, caught the spirit of enthusiasm, and sympathized in the excitement which so universally prevailed. I told Captain Thompson I had made up my mind to join a privateer. To this remark the worthy skipper made no reply but by a smile, which I interpreted as an approval of my determination.

One of my first acts, however, was to call on Hansen, the keeper of the boarding house where I had formerly resided, and discharge my debt. I resumed possession of my chest and books, which I regarded as my greatest treasure. I had recovered from my lameness. I was strong and active, and although poorly off for clothing or worldly goods, was free from debt, and had a couple of dollars which I could call my own. My condition had decidedly improved; the prospect ahead began to brighten, and I felt able and anxious to perform a manly part in any noble enterprise.

I took an early opportunity to look around the wharves, and examine the privateers that were getting ready for a cruise. Two of these vessels particularly commanded my admiration, the Teaser and the Paul Jones. The Teaser was a New York pilot boat of ninety tons burden, a rakish, wicked-looking clipper enough. Her armament consisted chiefly of one long eighteen-pounder amidships. The Paul Jones was a large schooner of two hundred and twenty tons, heavily rigged, with immense spars, a spacious deck, and of a genuine buccaneer model. The armament of this privateer consisted of one long twenty-four-pounder and twelve heavy carronades.

After the deliberation I fixed upon the Paul Jones as the more desirable vessel. The warlike preparations and rakish appearance of this schooner looked like BUSINESS, and I had seen the insolence of John Bull so often exhibited on the broad highway of nations, and had so often listened to his taunts and sneers in ridicule of the prowess of the Yankees, that I longed for an opportunity to lend a hand to give him a drubbing. I stepped on board and inquired of an officer who seemed busy in giving directions, if I could have a chance in the privateer. He asked me a few questions, to which I gave satisfactory answers. He said there were many applications of a similar character, but he thought he could insure me a situation; told me to call next day at two o'clock, when the agent would be on board, and the matter could be arranged.

The important part which the American privateers bore in the last war with Great Britain is well known. They were fitted out in every port, manned by brave and active men, and heavily armed. Managed with seaman-like dexterity, and superior in sailing capacity to vessels belonging to any other nation, they could not be easily captured. The injury inflicted on the commerce of Great Britain by these privateers is incalculable. They carried terror among our enemies in the remotest parts of the ocean, and the desire of the British government to put an end to the war may, in part, be attributed to the activity, courage, and enterprise of our privateers. The principle has been adopted in all ages, that private property, captured on the high seas, is a lawful prize to the captors; also, that the destruction of private property belonging to an enemy is a justifiable act. To a well-constituted mind it must appear, on investigation, that such principles are unjust, belong to a barbarous age, and cannot be advocated on any platform of ethics recognized among civilized nations in modern times.

An attempt was made within a few years on the part of Great Britain, which also met the approval of the French government, TO ABOLISH THE PRIVATEER SYSTEM, on the ground that this mode of warfare is wrong in principle, irregular subject to abuses, and to a certain extent irresponsible. A proposition was made to our government to be a party to an agreement to abolish the system forever. Under the cloak of Christian philanthropy this was a master stroke or policy on the part of the British and French governments. Should the privateer system be abolished and a war unhappily take place between this country and France or Great Britain, either of those nations, with myriads of heavily armed men-of-war, could overrun the ocean, and every American merchantman venturing to sea would be captured or burned; our own commerce would be annihilated, while OUR FEW NATIONAL SHIPS, scattered over a large surface, could offer but little check to the commercial pursuits of an enemy.

Our government met the proposition in a manly manner, and while it declined entering into any agreement which had for its exclusive object the abolition of the privateer system, a measure which would inure chiefly to the advantage of Great Britain or France, it went further, and declared itself ready to accede to any arrangement by which, during a war, private property of every character should be exempted from capture, not only by privateers but NATIONAL VESSELS. This noble suggestion, worthy a great nation in an enlightened age, did not meet the views of our friends across the water. This broad Christian principle, if carried out, would deprive them of many advantages they might reasonably expect to derive from their numerous ships of war.

It must be evident that in case of a war between this country and a mighty naval power, which we trust will never occur, the many large "clipper ships," which compose a large portion of our commercial marine, will be provided with screw propellers, and transformed into privateers. Armed with guns of the heaviest metal, unequalled in speed, and able to select their distance and position, they will prove a formidable means of defence and aggression; and will do much towards protecting our own commerce while they will destroy that of the enemy.

With a buoyant heart I left the proud and warlike looking privateer, Paul Jones, and proceeded to the slip where the schooner Mary lay. For this vessel, looking so demure and Quaker-like, I very ungratefully began to entertain feelings akin to contempt. She was now taking in cargo and was expected to sail in a few days on her return to Newbern. When Captain Thompson came on board, I told him I had engaged to join the privateer Paul Jones, which vessel was about to sail on a cruise. He seemed greatly astonished, and abruptly asked me what I meant by such conduct. I explained my intentions more at length, and referred to the notice I had given of my wish to join a privateer.

"I had no idea you were serious," said the captain. "I thought you intended it as a joke. I didn't suppose you were such a confounded fool as to think seriously of joining a privateer."

"Why, sir, what can I do better? Our merchant ships will be laid up or captured on the high seas. Even the coasting trade will be destroyed by British cruisers stationed along the whole extent of our coast. If I return to Newbern, I shall probably be thrown out of employment; a stranger in a small place, and almost as destitute as when I first shipped on board the Mary. I have pondered on the subject, and am convinced that my best course is to go a privateering."

"Go to Beelzebub, you mean!" exclaimed the captain, in a rage. "I have no patience with you. You talk nonsense. The schooner will not be laid up on her return to Newbern. And, furthermore, you have signed a contract to perform a voyage from Newbern to New York AND BACK! And I shall hold you to your agreement. Go a privateering! Pah!"

We had some further discussion, in the midst of which Mr. Jarvis, the owner of the schooner, who had arrived in New York a day or two before from North Carolina, came on board. He was a dignified-looking man, greatly respected and esteemed in Newbern. He espoused captain Thompson's side of the argument, assured me it was unlikely his vessels would be laid up on account of the war, and would promise me that in any event I should not be thrown out of employment. If his vessels remained idle at the wharves, he would find business for me in his counting room until more propitious times.

The united remonstrances of the captain and the owner of the Mary came with a force I was unable to resist; with a strong effort I gulped down my disappointment, and gave up my darling project of making a cruise in the Paul Jones. Our fortunes in this life our destinies seem sometimes balanced on a pivot which a breath will turn. Had I accomplished my intention and embarked on a cruise, how different my fate, in all likelihood, would have been!

We left New York about the 2d of July. After having reached the offing, while pursuing our course with diligence towards Cape Hatteras, we were overhauled by a New York pilot boat of the smallest size, apparently bound in the same direction. This little schooner was in ballast, and skimmed over the seas like a Mother Carey's chicken; ranged up on our weather quarter and hailed us. It proved to be the Young Pilot, Captain Moncrieff, bound to Savannah. The mate, whose name was Campbell, was known to Captain Thompson. They had been boarders in the same house. After an interchange of salutations and hearty wishes for a pleasant voyage, the little schooner rapidly drew ahead and passed on her way. There was nothing remarkable in this incident. I little thought at the time that this egg-shell of a vessel was destined to exercise an important influence on the future events of my life.

On the morning of the Fourth of July we were off the Chesapeake Bay, some twelve or fifteen miles from Cape Henry. Captain Thompson was a sterling patriot. He dearly loved his country, and gladly caught at every chance to display the broad flag of the Union. Accordingly, on this memorable day the gorgeous ensign was hoisted at the peak, the American jack waved at the fore-topmast head, and a long pennant fell in wavy folds from the main truck.

"If I had a big gun," exclaimed the worthy skipper, in a paroxysm of patriotism "a thirty-two-pound carronade, I would fire a genuine republican salute, and make such a thundering noise, not only in the air above but in the depths below, as to wake up the lazy inhabitants of the deep, and make them peep out of their caves to ask the cause of the terrible rumpus over their heads." At this very moment a suspicious-looking, double-headed cloud was slowly rising in the west, and ere long spread over a large space in the heavens. As it rolled onward, flashes of lightning were seen and a distant rumbling was heard a thunder squall was at hand. The lightning became more vivid, and the thunder more frequent and deafening. Every sail was lowered to the deck, the helm was put hard a-port, and the gust came upon us with terrible fury. The rain fell in torrents, the lightning kept the atmosphere in a constant state of illumination, and the peals of thunder were truly appalling! A grander salute, or a more brilliant and effective display of fireworks on the Fourth of July, could hardly have been wished by the most enthusiastic patriot. Even Captain Thompson's longings for "a thundering noise" were more than realized. He stood firmly on the break of the quarter-deck, surrounded by most of the crew, who seemed to gather near him for protection, astonished and terrified at the sublimity of the scene.

I was standing on the main deck, not far from the rest of the crew at the time, and noticed that when the storm struck the schooner, some ropes that had not been hitched to a belaying pin were flying loose and might become unrove. I stepped forward, and standing on tiptoe was in the act of stretching up my right arm to grasp the end of the peak-halliards, when there came a flash of white lightning which almost blinded every man on deck, accompanied by a peal of thunder that seemed loud enough to shake the world to its centre. We all believed the schooner had been struck by lightning. This was not the case. It was, nevertheless, a narrow escape. I received on my hand and arm an electric shock, which tingled through every nerve and nearly felled me to the deck, and rendered my arm powerless for an hour afterwards.

The captain now seemed really alarmed. He ordered me in a loud voice to come aft, and told the crew to follow him into the cabin, leaving the schooner to manage matters with the thunder storm and take care of herself. He produced a bottle of "old Madeira" from a locker, and filled several glasses; and while the short-lived storm raged fearfully above our heads, he insisted on every man drinking a toast in honor of the Fourth of July, and set the example himself by tossing off a tumbler filled to the brim.

We rounded Cape Hatteras early one delightful morning, and with a pleasant breeze from the northward shaped our course for Ocracoke Inlet. Several coasters were in company, and a small schooner was seen standing towards us from the Gulf Stream. This vessel was soon recognized as the Young Pilot, bound to Savannah, which we had spoken off Sandy Hook. The captain of the little schooner appeared to recognize the Mary, hoisted his colors, and steered directly towards us.

"What can that fellow want?" muttered Captain Thompson. "He should have been in Savannah before this? What has he been doing away there in the Gulf Stream? There is roguery somewhere?"

The Young Pilot soon came within hail, when Captain Moncrieff requested Captain Thompson to heave to, as he wanted to come on board. The boat was launched from the deck of the pilot boat, and, manned by four athletic seamen, brought Captain Moncrieff alongside in handsome style. He jumped on deck, grasped the hand of Captain Thompson, and requested to have some conversation with him in the cabin. They were absent communing together for several minutes, when Captain Thompson thrust his head out of the companion-way, and looking round, caught my eye. He beckoned me to enter the cabin.

"What's in the wind now?" thought I to myself. "What part am I to play in this mysterious drama? Something better than reading doomsday pamphlets, I hope."

I went down into the cabin. "Here," said Captain Thompson to Captain Moncrieff, pointing to me, "is the only person on board my vessel who would think of accompanying you on your voyage. I would gladly assist you in your unpleasant dilemma, but I cannot advise him to go with you. Nevertheless, if he is willing I shall make no objection."

Captain Moncrieff gazed upon me with a look of deep interest. "Young man," said he, "you are aware I sailed from New York the same day with the Mary. My vessel was cleared at the custom house for Savannah; this was necessary in consequence of the embargo; but I was in reality bound for LaGuayra, on the Spanish Main, being the bearer of despatches of importance to a ship belonging to New York. On egging off to the eastward, to cross the Gulf Stream, my crew, convinced that Savannah was not my destined port, began to murmur. And when I acknowledged I was bound to the Spanish Main, they, one and all, refused to proceed further on the voyage, and insisted on my running into some port on the coast. I have told Captain Thompson that if I can procure ONE MAN from his schooner, I will leave these mutinous fellows with him and proceed on my voyage. Say, then, my good fellow, that you will go with me. I will allow you twenty dollars a month, and a month's pay in advance more if you wish it. You shall receive good treatment, and will always find a friend in Archibald Moncrieff."

When the captain of the pilot-boat, who seemed much excited, finished his narrative, I quietly answered without hesitation, "I WILL GO WITH YOU."

He grasped my hand, gave it a hearty shake, and said, "I thank you. You shall have no cause to regret your decision. Pack up your things, my lad, and be ready to go on board when I return."

He entered his yawl, and was soon on the deck of the pilot-boat. It took me but a few minutes to get ready for my departure. Captain Thompson said not a word, but looked thoughtful and dejected. He appeared already to regret having been so easily persuaded to accommodate Captain Moncrieff, by granting me permission to embark on this uncertain expedition.

It was not long before the yawl returned from the little schooner, laden with chests, bags, and bundles, and having on board the captain, four seamen, and the cook. The luggage was tumbled out of the boat in short order; my chest was deposited in the stern seats. I shook hands with my old shipmates, took an affectionate leave of Captain Thompson, who had always treated me with the kindness of a father, and entered the boat. Captain Moncrieff took one oar, I took another, and in a few minutes I stood on the deck of the Young Pilot. A tackle was hooked on to the yawl, which was, which was hoisted in and snugly stowed on deck; the helm was put up, the fore-sheet hauled to leeward, and, before I had time to realize this change in my situation, I found myself in a strange vessel, with strange companions, bound on a strange voyage to the Spanish Main.



Chapter XXI. ON BOARD THE YOUNG PILOT

After the vessels had separated and were rapidly increasing the space between them, I looked back upon the schooner Mary and recalled the many pleasant hours I had passed in that vessel, and asked myself if it would not have been better to have remained on board, trusting to the friendship of Captain Thompson and the promises of Mr. Jarvis. When I looked around, and fully comprehended the situation in which I had so unthinkingly placed myself, I saw little to give me consolation or encouragement. Captain Moncrieff was not prepossessing in his person or deportment. He was a tall, large-limbed Scotchman, about forty years of age, with light blue eyes and coarse, bloated features. He was abrupt in his language, had an exalted opinion of his merits and capacity, was always the hero of his own story; and, although he subsequently proved to be a man of generous feelings, to my unpractised optics he looked more like a bully than a gentleman.

Mr. Campbell, the mate, was also a Scotchman; but his appearance and character differed essentially from those of the captain. He was slightly built, with thin, pale features. There was nothing genial in his looks; and a certain vulpine cast of countenance, a low forehead, and a brow deeply wrinkled but not with age conveyed the idea of a selfish, narrow-minded individual.

With the exception of myself, there was no other person on board the pilot-boat. On acceding to the proposition of Captain Moncrieff, it escaped my notice that the cook was to leave the schooner with the rest of the crew. It now flashed across my mind, communicating any thing but a pleasurable sensation, that in addition to the ordinary duties of a seaman, I was expected to perform the part of that sable functionary. I therefore found myself monopolizing several responsible situations, and held at one and the same time the office of second mate, cook, and all hands.

In the novelty of my situation, however, I found a source of amusement; and the very uncertainty of the expedition, the singular manner in which I joined the pilot-boat, and the abundant cause I had for wondering "what would turn up next," imparted to the whole enterprise an unexpected charm. My duties, although various, were not arduous, but occupied a large portion of my time. The mate and myself stood watch by turns through the night, each steering the schooner his regular trick of four hours at a time. The captain seldom came on deck during the night, but enjoyed his rest of eight or ten hours undisturbed.

The Young Pilot steered so easily, the helmsman being snugly seated in the cuddy, that it was next to impossible for any one to remain four hours in that comfortable situation, in pleasant weather, with no one to converse with or even to look at, without falling asleep. Aware of the responsibility of my situation, and remembering the lesson I had received when lying at anchor inside of Charleston bar, I strove hard to resist the influence of the drowsy god, but was often compelled to nod to his dominion; and many a sweet and stolen nap have I enjoyed when stationed at the helm, and the vessel left entirely in my charge. Sometimes, on arousing myself from my slumbers, I found the rebellious little vessel running along four or five points off her course. In more than one instance, when the orders were to keep close-hauled, the schooner gradually fell off until she got before the wind, when the sails gibed, all standing, making a terrible clatter, and awakening not only myself, but the captain also, who, on coming on deck, must have divined the true state of things; but, with a degree of consideration which I could hardly have expected, and did not deserve, he never gave me a word of reproof. How these matters were managed by Mr. Campbell, I could never learn. He was one of those nervous, restless mortals who require but little sleep. It can hardly be doubted, however, that he sometimes fell asleep in his watch, and steered the schooner in every direction but the right one. This wild steering during the night will sufficiently account for a long passage, and errors in navigation. Dead reckoning is of little use when the courses and distances are not correctly noted. In the daytime, Captain Moncrieff would sometimes steer hours at a time, especially when I was employed in other business or taking a nap below.

The most unpleasant duty I was expected to perform was that of cooking. I had never been inducted into the mysteries of that art, and was disgusted with its drudgeries. While in the Dolphin, with Captain Turner, I tried my hand at cooking more than once, when the cook had been so badly flogged as to be unable to perform his duties. But I gained no laurels in that department. Indeed, dissatisfaction was expressed in the forecastle and the cabin at the bungling and unartistic style in which I prepared the food on those occasions. In the Young Pilot I succeeded but little better; and the captain, who was something of an epicure in his way, whenever a good cup of coffee was required for breakfast, or a palatable dish for dinner, released me from my vocation for the time, and installed himself in the camboose. And it would have been amusing to a looker-on, to see the big, burly Scotchman steaming over the fire and smoke, rattling the pans and kettles, and compounding various materials, while I sat quietly at the helm, watching his operations, and thanking my stars that I had no genius for cooking.

The greatest cause I had for disquiet on this passage was the want of society. The captain and mate could spin their yarns and discuss subjects of nautical philosophy; but the mate, naturally unsocial and taciturn, seldom spoke to me, and the captain never honored me by entering into familiar conversation, excepting when he had indulged in an extra glass, and Mr. Campbell was not on deck. At such times, being in a garrulous humor, he would, as a sort of "Hogson's choice," address himself to me, and rattle off narratives of adventures of the most astounding description.

The schooner was easily managed, being a small vessel of only thirty tons burden. In ordinary weather, one man, without leaving his station at the helm, could tack ship, gibe, and trim every sail. The schooner was a good-sailing vessel in light winds; but her chief excellence consisted in ability to beat to windward. When within four points of the wind she progressed at the rate of six or seven knots with a moderate breeze, while with a strong wind on the quarter eight knots was her greatest speed. An opportunity offered of testing her sailing qualities a few days after I had the honor to constitute her whole crew.

One morning, at daylight, as we were steering to the southward on a wind, a sail was made on the lee bow. It proved to be a large ship with two tiers of ports, not more than three or four miles off, steering to the westward. As soon as we were seen, the ship hauled her wind, spread every sail, and seemed determined to ascertain our character and business in those seas. Captain Moncrieff, with perfect propriety, resolved, if possible, to prevent the gratification of such impertinent curiosity. The British cruiser sailed remarkably well; and if we had been under her lee, our voyage would have ended before it was fairly begun. But we made short tacks to windward, shooting into the wind's eye every time we went about, and by three o'clock the ship was hull down to leeward, when she gave up the chase, squared away the yards, and steered to the westward.

A few days after this incident we fell in with a large, rakish-looking schooner on our weather bow. The schooner was heavily armed and her decks were full of men. She crossed our hawse and kept on her course until some distance under the lee bow, then hauled to the wind on the starboard tack, and on reaching our wake tacked within long gunshot and stood directly after us. She now fired a blank cartridge and hoisted the Patriot flag.

If Captain Moncrieff had kept his wits about him, and had not been afraid of cannon balls, we might have escaped, by keeping on our course or making short tacks to windward. This was worth the trial, as it was not unlikely the schooner, although showing Patriot colors, was a Spanish privateer or government cruiser; in which case, it would appear by letters and other documents that we were bound to LaGuayra, which at that time was in possession of the Patriot forces, and could expect little forbearance from the Spaniards, who were waging war to the knife against the patriots. This was forcibly represented to Captain Moncrieff by Mr. Campbell; and we trimmed every sail carefully, and kept close to the wind, with a fair prospect of making our escape.

The piratical-looking craft, perceiving we took no notice of her hint to heave to, yawed off a couple of points and sent a messenger after us in the shape of a twenty-four pound shot, which struck the water a short distance astern, and, playfully skipping along, sank beneath the surface near the weather quarter. Captain Moncrieff said not a word, but looked amazingly sober. Campbell, who cared little for his life, but had great fear of being robbed, and who regarded all privateers as neither more nor less than thieves and pirates, coolly remarked, "O, he may fire away as much as he likes; he cannot hit us at that distance."

"I don't know that," replied captain Moncrieff, much agitated. "I believe he is gaining on us. The next shot may take away one of the masts."

"He is NOT gaining on us," said Campbell. "If he should hit one of the masts we should be COMPELLED to heave to; it would no longer be a matter of choice. But I don't believe he can do it"

At this moment the schooner yawed, and gave us another gun. The ball came whizzing along, passed just over the mast-head, and fell in the water a couple of lengths off on the starboard bow.

"I'll bet a beaver hat," said Campbell, "he can't do that again."

"This will never do," exclaimed the captain, greatly alarmed, and pale as a ghost. "He will hull us next time, and send us all to 'Davy's locker.' Haul the foresheet to windward!"

This was done; and the pilot-boat lay like a log on the water, waiting the approach of our pursuer.

"Now," said Campbell, with a scowl of disappointment, "I will go below and take care of 'number one.' And Hawser," continued he, "I know those chaps better than you do. They glory in robbing a sailor's chest when there is anything in it worth taking. I advise you to do as I mean to do clothe yourself in two or three suits of your best garments; for I never knew them strip the clothing from a man's back."

"I thank you for your counsel, sir," said I; "but if they overhaul MY chest in expectation of a prize, they will be woefully disappointed."

Mr. Campbell went below a slight-built, thin-looking man, bearing a closer resemblance to Shakespeare's portrait of Prince Hal than to that of Falstaff. When, fifteen minutes afterwards, he appeared on deck, staggering under the load of three pairs of trousers, an equal number of vests, covering half a dozen shirts, with two or three silk kerchiefs around his neck, he looked, from his chin downwards, more like the "fat knight" than Prince Hal; and his thin face, peaked nose, and chin showing itself above such a portly corporation and huge limbs, gave him an unnatural appearance ludicrous in the extreme. He told me he had stowed away the remainder of his property where it would puzzle the privateersmen to find it, and chuckled over the ingenuity by which he expected to outwit the rascals.

It was not long before the armed schooner ranged alongside. She was a formidable-looking craft, with a "long Tom" and a stout armament besides. We were hailed in broken English: "You capitan, come on board directly, and bring your papers."

The captain remonstrated, saying we were short-manned, and unable to launch the boat, or to man it afterwards. They did not, or would not, understand his objections, but repeated the order in a style which silenced further remonstrance: "Come on board, Senor Capitan, this minute, and bring your papers, or I shall shoot directly!"

There was no alternative. After much labor and heavy lifting we launched the boat. Captain Moncrieff put his papers in his pocket, and leaving Mr. Campbell in charge of the schooner, followed me into the yawl. Putting his dignity along with his papers, he took an oar, I took another, and we pulled for the privateer, which by this time was out of hail to leeward. We went alongside, and were roughly ordered on deck, where we found a motley set. Some of the crew were savage, desperate-looking fellows:

"As ever scuttled ship, or cut a throat."

Others were squalid, ragged, and filthy, to a degree I had never before witnessed. There was apparently but little discipline on board, but a great deal of disputation and a continual jabbering. A ruffianly-looking fellow, with a swarthy complexion and big black whiskers, who proved to be the commander, beckoned Captain Moncrieff to the quarter-deck, where he examined the schooner's papers and various letters, all of which proved, beyond a doubt, that the schooner was an American vessel, bound to a Patriot port on the Spanish Main.

Fortunately for us our captor was a Patriot privateer, and our little vessel, under no pretext, could be regarded as a prize. If we had been bound to a port on the Spanish Main where the inhabitants had not thrown off their allegiance to the king or if the privateer had been a Spaniard, the case would have been different, and the pilot-boat would have been taken possession of and confiscated to the benefit of the captors, probably without trial. In those days other nations, following the example of France and England, trampled on the great principles of international law so far as our insulted country was concerned.

As the privateersmen could not take our vessel without avowing themselves pirates, they reluctantly limited themselves to plunder. An officer and half a dozen men, armed with pistols and cutlasses, were despatched in our boat to the schooner, which they thoroughly examined from stem to stern. As we had no goods, hey removed the ballast to find valuable property or money, which we might have concealed. They overhauled chests, trunks, and writing-desks, looking for specie or hidden papers; helped themselves to whatever they particularly fancied, and finally conveyed to the privateer all the water, beef, bread, sugar, coffee, and other provisions and stores which they could find, with the exception of a very scanty supply for our own use!

After a detention of a couple of hours, the last boat load of provisions was transferred to the deck of the privateer, and Captain Moncrieff and myself were about to step into the boat on our return, when the officer who had superintended the piratical operations suggested to the commander of the privateer that our boat was a remarkably fine one; far better and more serviceable than any one in their possession, and THEREFORE it would be right and proper for us the captain and crew of the pilot-boat to return to our own vessel in a skiff belonging to the privateer, and leave our boat for their use.

The case was forcibly put; the logic was unanswerable, and the conclusion inevitable. The stern-boat, a light skiff, was lowered and brought alongside, and then it appeared why the privateersmen did not board us in their own boat, as is usual on such occasions. They had had an engagement the day before with a Spanish government brig; had been roughly handled, had several men killed and wounded, and sustained damage in hull and spars. The boats had been riddled with shot, and, not having been subsequently repaired, were not seaworthy.

When the little skiff was brought beneath the gangway the water was pouring through the bottom in divers places. No time was given for deliberation. We were unceremoniously shoved into the skiff, the painter was cast loose, and a dark, ugly-visaged scoundrel told us, in broken English and with a diabolical grin, to "pull for our lives!" So, indeed, we did. The pilot-boat was not far off, nevertheless we should have swamped ere we could have reached her had not the captain, with admirable presence of mind, ordered me to lay in my oar, and at the same time handed me his hat, a large one and in tolerable good condition, and pointing to the water in which our legs were immersed, bade me "bale away!" Then placing his oar over the stern of the boat, he sculled off towards the schooner like an excited Hercules!

In this way we managed to reach the Young Pilot, and greatly to the amusement of the piratical patriots, scrambled on board in a most undignified manner. In spite of our exertions the skiff was filled with water when we trod the deck of the schooner. Mr. Campbell relieved himself of his superfluous garments, and we went busily to work rigging purchases, with which to hoist in the boat we had received in exchange for our own. We then proceeded on our way.

Any person who has sailed on the Atlantic must have noticed the luminous appearance of the water of the ocean, especially at night and in tempestuous weather. This beautiful phenomenon is witnessed to a greater extent in some parts of the ocean than in others, and in different sections it presents different appearances. In one place it seems uniformly luminous, shining feebly with a pale and sickly light; in another it exhibits bright flashes; again, it appears composed of brilliants of different sizes and shades, and sometimes, like a grand exhibition of the "northern lights," all these appearances are combined. The most phosphorescent sea seldom exhibits peculiarities by daylight. Nevertheless, sometimes, though rarely, luminous patches and even large tracts of water are seen in the daytime, and at a great distance from ordinary soundings, with the color differing materially from the well-known hue of the ocean, and seeming to indicate to the astonished mariner the existence of banks or shoals.

A few days after we fell in with the Patriot privateer, being in about twenty-six degrees of latitude, in the middle of a clear and beautiful day, Mr. Campbell, who was at the helm, exclaimed, in a tone of alarm, "There's a shoal ahead!"

On looking in that direction, a tract of water embracing several square miles was seen, which was of a light green color inclining to yellow. Its edges were well defined, but irregular, and presented a strong contrast with the general appearance of the ocean. We supposed the water on that spot must be shallow, but as there was a heavy swell and no breakers were seen, it was manifest there was depth of water enough for our little schooner. The deep-sea lead was got ready, and when we had reached what we considered the centre and shoalest part of the bank, no bottom was found with a hundred fathoms of line. The peculiarity in color was undoubtedly owing to luminous particles floating in the water, and if we had remained on that spot until dark we should have seen that whole tract of ocean splendidly illuminated.

The cause of this singular phenomenon has given rise to many theories and much discussion among naturalists. It was for a time contended that this phosphorescence was a quality of the water itself. But later and more accurate observers ascertained beyond a doubt, that some marine worms and other insects were luminous. On pursuing the investigation it is ascertained that the sea water is far less pure than has been supposed, and is often crowded with myriads of minute luminous animals. It is now admitted that the phosphorescence of sea water is a property not belonging to itself, but is produced by animalcula, or microscopic creatures. They are far more numerous in some tracts of ocean than in others, and all possess the power of producing a light, a spark, or flash at will. There can be no doubt that these living, transparent atoms cause the luminous appearance of the ocean, which excites admiration, and has so often been described in glowing language by the poet.



Chapter XXII. CAPTURED BY A PRIVATEER

Captain Moncrieff was desirous of entering the Caribbean Sea through the Sail-rock passage, which separates the barren island of St. Thomas from Porto Rico. But when we reached the latitude of those islands we beheld, on our starboard bow, the mountainous country on the eastern part of Hayti. The island of Porto Rico was soon afterwards seen on the other bow, and directly ahead was the little island of Mona, rising abruptly from the sea. Instead of striking the Sail-rock passage we found ourselves in the centre of the Mona passage, a hundred and twenty miles to leeward of Sail-rock, and twenty or thirty miles westward of the meridian of LaGuayra.

Although Captain Moncrieff was glad of an opportunity to ascertain his true position, he was mortified at finding himself westward of his destined port. The Young Pilot was immediately hauled on a wind, and we crossed the Caribbean Sea with a fine breeze, and one morning beheld the Rocas, a cluster of barren rocks, right ahead. We passed over a bank extending from this group of rocks, and with a fishing-line trailing astern and a piece of the rind of pork for bait, caught a quantity of Spanish mackerel, a fish of excellent flavor, weighing four or five pounds each.

And I will here state, for the benefit of those navigators who have little experience in those seas, that on the edge of soundings in all parts of the West Indies, and particularly on the edges of the Bahamas and Salt Key Bank, abundance of fish of excellent quality, as black perch, kingfish, barracooter, and Spanish mackerel, may be taken by trailing during a breeze, in any reasonable quantity.

By steering a course directly from the Rocas to LaGuayra we could have reached that port on the following day, but Captain Moncrieff was impressed with the idea that a strong current was setting to the westward. Therefore, instead of proceeding directly to the Spanish Main, as he should have done, he commenced beating to windward, and continued this absurd process for two days, when, having made the island of Tortuga, he satisfied himself he was far enough to windward, and that there was no current at that time in those seas. The helm was accordingly put up, and with a free wind we now steered to the south-west, to fall in with the coast somewhere near Cape Codera. We made the land about fifty miles to windward of LaGuayra, in the afternoon, about three o'clock. Captain Moncrieff clapped his hands in ecstasy when he saw the land. "If this breeze holds," said he, "we can run along under easy sail and be off the harbor before daylight tomorrow morning."

His exultation was moderated by the sight of a large topsail schooner on our starboard quarter, dead to windward, steering towards us under a heavy press of sail, and coming up hand over hand. We hoisted our square-sail and wet our other sails, but the schooner gained upon us rapidly. Ere the darkness of night concealed us from her view, we became aware that the schooner in chase was a Spanish government vessel, termed a Guarda Costa, one of the very few armed vessels stationed on that coast to show that the blockade of the Patriot ports on the Spanish Main was not a mere paper blockade.

A hasty consultation between the captain and the mate was now held, to devise means of keeping out of the clutches of the Spaniard during the night. They both agreed in the opinion that the Guarda Costa would keep on the course she was steering when last seen, with the expectation of soon overhauling us. Therefore, the best mode of disappointing those expectations would be to change our course, run directly towards the shore, dowse every sail, and remain concealed by the darkness until morning.

The stratagem devised by the combined wisdom of the officers was carried into effect. We ran in under the land and hauled down every sail, thus presenting so small a surface to the eye that it was almost impossible we should be seen during the night. It was deemed advisable to keep a good look-out, and Captain Moncrieff volunteered to keep the watch from eight o'clock to eleven. Mr. Campbell was to be on deck from eleven o'clock until three, when I was to be called to keep the look-out until daylight.

Everything passed off well during the first and second watches of the night. At three o'clock I was roused out by the mate, and took my station on deck. I could not divest myself of the idea that the Guarda Costa had divined our intentions and was quietly lying to, somewhere in our vicinity, sure of finding us snugly under her guns at the dawn of the day. There was no moon in the heavens, nevertheless the horizon was well defined, and a large object could be seen at the distance of a couple of miles. I took a careful look around the horizon, waited a short time and looked again. I suffered my eyes to dwell on that quarter, in a north-east direction, where the schooner had been seen the evening before, and after a while I beheld a speck darker than the surrounding atmosphere.

Might it not exist only in imagination? I turned away my eyes and took a survey of the horizon in another direction, and again looked towards the quarter where the dark object had appeared. It was still there. Feeling assured I was not the victim of error, I ventured to call Captain Moncrieff, who hastened on deck followed by the mate. I gave him my reasons for disturbing his slumbers, and pointed to the dark speck which had arrested my attention. They both looked in the direction I indicated, but could see nothing. The captain swept the horizon with his spy glass, then turning to me, said, "Hawser, you have persuaded yourself that the Guarda Costa is still in that direction, than which nothing can be more unlikely, and your fancy has conjured up a vision that is visible to no one but yourself."

"It is no fancy, sir," said I, boldly. "I KNOW there is a vessel in that direction. I can see it distinctly; and you may mark my words that the sooner we get the schooner under sail, the greater will be the chance of escaping capture."

Mr. Campbell, with a sneering laugh, remarked that his eyes never yet deceived him, and that he could see as far in the dark as any one! The captain, however, was staggered by the obstinacy with which I adhered to my statement, and said to the mate, "It is possible that Hawser may see something in that quarter which we cannot see, and as it is nearly daylight it may be well to get the schooner under sail and commence running down the coast."

We began to hoist our sails; but before the foresail was set, a flash of light appeared in the north-east followed by the report of a gun, thus confirming the correctness of my assertion and establishing the excellence of my eyesight. We lost no time in getting sail on the schooner; and now Captain Moncrieff regretted that instead of running in towards the land he had not adopted means during the night of getting the weather-gage, when he could have laughed at the efforts of the Guarda Costa to interrupt our voyage.

Daylight appeared in the east, when the Spanish schooner was plainly seen; also another vessel which had fallen into her hands whilst she was quietly lying to, hoping to pounce upon us. As soon as objects could be distinctly seen, the boat of the Guarda Costa was returning from a visit to the stranger, and the Spaniard having got a glimpse of the pilot-boat, showed a determination to become better acquainted with the object of our voyage. The affair became exciting. We were close in with the shore, running directly before the wind with a fresh breeze. The schooner had got in our wake and was crowding all sail in pursuit.

It soon became manifest that we could not escape. Our pursuer was hardly a gunshot off, and slowly but surely lessening the space between us. The sagacious Mr. Campbell regarded our capture as inevitable, and, true to his characteristics, repeated the stratagem which had served him so successfully when we were molested by the Patriot privateer. He doffed his old garments, which were not worth stealing, and clad himself from top to toe in two or three complete suits of his best clothing. He came on deck resembling a swathed mummy, and perspiring freely under the heavy load.

When the Guarda Costa had approached within fair gunshot, and we were every minute expecting an iron shower, we saw at a short distance ahead on a projecting point of land, a fort on which several guns were mounted, and the Patriot flag was waving from a tall flagstaff. The masts of some small vessels were also visible over the point.

"There is a snug harbor," exclaimed Captain Moncrieff, "defended by a fort and in possession of the Patriots. We will run in under the guns of our friends and come to anchor. Hurrah, we are all right at last!" And he cut a pigeon-wing with a dexterity of which I had hardly believed him capable.

And now an armed felucca shot out from the harbor beyond the fort with the Patriot flag flying at the peak. She was full of men, evidently a privateer, and with long sweeps pulled swiftly towards us. When within hearing, a fierce-looking fellow, with pistols in his belt and a sabre at his side, stepped upon the gunwale and hailed us in tolerable English.

"Captain," said he, "that Spanish schooner is one great rascal. If he should board your vessel, HE WILL CUT ALL YOUR THROATS!"

"Can I enter that harbor?" inquired Captain Moncrieff, greatly alarmed at such a sanguinary piece of intelligence.

"Certainly, certainly! There, and there only you will be safe. Follow the felucca, and we will pilot you in."

The felucca rounded the point, closely followed by the pilot-boat. We entered a snug little bay, well sheltered from the regular winds and waves, and agreeably to the directions of our new and zealous friends let go an anchor; at the same time the Guarda Costa fired a gun, hauled down her colors, gave up the chase, and steered away to the northward.

We were boarded by the commander of the felucca and the officer who had so kindly told us of the bloody intentions of our pursuers. They shook Captain Moncrieff by the hand, and congratulated him on having baffled the enemy.

"But," asked Captain Moncrieff, "will not the blood-thirsty Spaniards return at night, send in an armed boat and cut us out from under the guns of the fort?"

"O, no! There's no fear of that," replied the commander of the felucca, with a savage smile which I did not half like. "Be not alarmed. WE will take good care of you," and he clapped his hand significantly on the hilt of his sabre!

I was an attentive observer of every event which took place, and was by no means satisfied with the proceedings. The sudden apparition of the felucca, the departure of the Guarda Costa without firing a shot, and the exultation of the officers who boarded us, and which they tried in vain to conceal, all convinced me there was some mystery which it was not in my power to fathom.

"Where are you bound, captain?" inquired the officious commander of the felucca.

"To LaGuayra, if it still belongs to the Patriots," replied Moncrieff.

"That is right," exclaimed the grinning corsair. "You are a good patriot, and have letters and intelligence which will be valuable to our friends in LaGuayra!"

"Certainly," replied Moncrieff. "I have letters in abundance, and any thing in my power to aid in establishing the independence of the Spanish Provinces on the Main I will do with pleasure."

The commander of the felucca expressed satisfaction at such noble sentiments, and added, "I will, with your permission, go below and examine your papers."

Hardly had the two captains left the deck, when the loud report of a gun from the fort echoed across the water, and down came the Patriot flag from the flagstaff! It was immediately replaced by the sickly emblem of Spain. A musket was fired from the felucca, and the Spanish ensign waved also at her peak! Moncrieff heard the firing and rushed on deck just as an ill-looking fellow, who had for some time been busy about the signal halliards, near the taffrail, was running up a Spanish flag, WITH THE STARS AND STRIPES BENEATH! He saw at a glance that he was the victim of an ingenious trick. He was terribly agitated his features, usually florid, were as pale as death. "What is the meaning of all this?" he exclaimed, in a husky voice.

"A BUENO prize, captain! A BUENO prize!" replied the exulting commander of the felucca, patting him affectionately on the shoulder.

The affair required but little explanation. The fort was a Spanish fort. The felucca was a Spanish privateer, belonging to Porto Cabello, and her commander had adroitly managed to capture the pilot-boat just as we were about to fall into the jaws of the Guarda Costa. The commander of the felucca had furthermore wormed out of the unsuspecting Moncrieff all the secrets of his mission, and paved the way for the confiscation of our little schooner.

Moncrieff stormed and raved like a madman; but there was no remedy. The Spaniards were too well pleased with the success of their stratagem to notice his anger, and the captain on reflection was somewhat consoled by the idea that if he had missed the felucca he could not have escaped the Guarda Costa. On conversing further with his captors, he ascertained that the ship, to reach which was the object of his mission, was now at Porto Cabello, which place had been recently captured by the royalists after a hard battle. He further learned that it was the intention of his captors to proceed directly to Porto Cabello with their prize.

A prize-master and eight men, armed to the teeth, were put on board. Mr. Campbell was ordered into the felucca without an opportunity of relieving himself of his extra clothing. The rays of the sun in that sheltered harbor seemed endued with a tenfold degree of calorie; and the poor fellow, as he stepped over the side, bowed down by the weight of his garments and sweltering with heat, was a legitimate object of pity, although a martyr to his selfish propensities.

We left the harbor on our way to Porto Cabello; but our progress was slow, being interrupted by calms. The prize crew of the Young Pilot were attentive to their duties and faithful and vigilant during the night. They were divided into two watches, and four of them, armed with pistols and cutlasses, paced the deck at all hours. Nevertheless, on the third day after leaving port, the felucca being out of sight in the north-east chasing a suspicious-looking vessel, Captain Moncrieff, having raised and fortified his courage by an extra portion of cognac, called me into the cabin and broached the subject of retaking the schooner!

"Hawser," said he, "I cannot reconcile myself to the loss of my vessel; the idea of being tricked out of her by a set of garlic-eating ragamuffins puts me out of all patience. I have as good a pair of pistols as were ever manufactured, which I concealed when the schooner was searched. With these, and a good cutlass in my hand, I would face a dozen of these cowardly Spaniards at any time. If you will stand by me we will drive every mother's son of them overboard!"

I saw that Moncrieff was so drunk he could hardly stand. Indeed, it was only at such times his courage was roused to fighting heat. I attempted to calm his excitement by representing the slender chance of success we should have in open combat with eight or ten men completely armed; that it was far more likely we should be thrown overboard than the prize crew. I also argued that even if we should be successful in the desperate contest we should gain nothing, but on the contrary lose the opportunity of proceeding to Porto Cabello where the ship Charity was now lying; that in every point of view his design was objectionable, as well as impracticable; and furthermore, the attempt would be an ungrateful return for the civilities and indulgence we had received from the prize-master and his associates.

My remonstrances only served to increase the fury of Moncrieff, who swore that single-handed he would retake the schooner. With his back against the mainmast and a good claymore in his hand, he would cut down every man one after another!

I found he was too far gone to listen to reason; and it is possible he might have staggered on deck, pistol in hand, and been shot down for his pains, if the prize-master, attracted by his loud and threatening language, had not listened to a part of the conversation; and as the captain was on the point of sallying forth, like a doughty champion of old, in search of hard knocks, his collar was grasped by a couple of stout men; and he was roughly laid on his back and handcuffed in a trice. His pistols were found and appropriated to the use of the prize-master as spoils of the vanquished, and he would have been treated with great harshness had I not interfered and pointed out the brandy bottle as the guilty originator of the plot. The brandy was promptly secured, to be punished hereafter. The captain was relieved of his manacles and shoved into his berth, where he slept off his valorous propensities, and awoke a few hours afterwards a different man, who could hardly be drubbed into a plot which would endanger his own life.

In spite of calms, and light winds, and Patriot cruisers, we reached Porto Cabello on the fifth day after leaving the little harbor where we were so handsomely entrapped. The felucca entered the port at the same time, and Mr. Campbell was permitted to join us once more; and he did it with an alacrity which, I confess to my shame, furnished me with no little amusement. The sufferings of the poor man while in the felucca can hardly be imagined. He was exposed in that hot climate, and during the prevalence of calms, to the fiercest rays of the sun, while loaded with clothes enough to keep him uncomfortably warm during a polar winter. And he felt compelled to bear his burden without murmuring or seeking to be relieved, lest his companions should suspect his reasons for bearing his whole wardrobe on his back, and take umbrage at such a reflection on their honor!



Chapter XXIII. PORTO CABELLO

The ship Charity was lying in the harbor of Porto Cabello, but under seizure of the Spanish government. Captain Moncrieff, Mr. Campbell, and myself, with no longer a home in the pilot-boat, transferred our quarters to the ship. The officers took up their abode in the cabin, while I was thrown on the hospitalities of the forecastle. The prize-master of the pilot-boat honored me with a pressing invitation to join the crew of the felucca, assuring me there was "good picking" along the coast, and he would put me in the way of doing well. I felt flattered by his good opinion; but under the circumstances thought proper to decline the invitation.

The ship Charity was a vessel of about three hundred and fifty tons burden, moored at this time in the centre of the harbor, awaiting the decision of the Admiralty Court. The ship was commanded by a man of very ordinary capacity. The mate was a mere sailor, wanting in intelligence and worth, and a fit associate for the captain. The ship and her valuable cargo were actually n charge of the supercargo, a Mr. Parker, of New York, who was also part owner. He resided on shore and seldom visited the ship. It was at his instance I found an asylum in the Charity along with the officers of the pilot-boat.

The crew of the Charity consisted of some eight or ten men, Dutchmen, Swedes, and Italians, as brutal and ignorant a set of men as it was ever my misfortune to fall in with. With such officers and such a crew, it may be imagined there was little discipline on board. Liquor could be easily obtained; and drunken rows and fighting among themselves, and occasionally with the captain or mate, were of frequent occurrence. None of the crew gave me a welcome when I went on board, and I saw at once there could be no good fellowship between us. I found a space in the forecastle for my chest, and in that warm climate it mattered little where I slept. I performed my duties regularly with the crew, and for the first two days led an unsocial, almost a solitary life, in the midst of a large ship's company. Captain Moncrieff, like an honest man, paid me the month's pay to which I was entitled, in advance. This money I kept about my person, and carefully concealed from every one the prosperous sate of my finances. I was thus enabled to indulge in little comforts which, to some extent, counterbalanced the inconveniences to which I was subjected.

On the morning of the third day after I had taken up my quarters in the ship, another person was received on board in accordance with a mandate from the supercargo. His name was Frederick Strictland. He was an Englishman, a veritable cockney, about nineteen or twenty years of age, a strong-built and rather good-looking young man. His countenance, although intelligent, was not prepossessing; there was a sort of nameless expression about the eye which repelled confidence and invited suspicion. But it was no time for me to entertain prejudices which might be unfounded, or indulge in surmises unfavorable to the character of my new shipmate. He could talk English, and talk it well. He was the victim of misfortune, being destitute of friends and money in a strange country. Finding ourselves accidentally thrown together in the same ship, it is not remarkable that we became constant companions from the commencement of our acquaintance, and intimate friends.

Strictland's story was calculated to excite compassion. His father was a respectable trader in London, and Frederick had been a clerk in his counting room. He frankly acknowledged he had been a little wild and extravagant, and having expressed a desire to go abroad, his father allowed him to proceed to Curacoa on a visit to a brother in that island. His brother received him coldly and could not or would not find him employment. He induced him to take passage for Porto Cabello, with assurances that he would there find some desirable means of getting a living. Disappointed in this, and having spent the little money given him by his brother, and sold or pawned the greater part of his clothing, his next project was to proceed to the United States, and he applied to Mr. Parker for a passage in the only American vessel in port. He was told that the ship might not leave the harbor for months, if ever. But as he was suffering from want, he was permitted to make it his home until he could find some other resource. I did not allow myself to doubt the truth of any portion of Strictland's narrative. I confided to him the particulars of my own situation. We conversed freely in regard to the future, and formed a resolution to keep together, and embrace the first opportunity of getting to the United States.

When I had been about a week in Porto Cabello, I was attacked by a severe and dangerous illness. I suffered severe pains incessantly, which deprived me of sleep. I was losing my strength daily, and at length, without any relaxation of the symptoms, was hardly able to crawl about the ship. I received no sympathy or medical aid from the captain or mate, and could not even obtain a little rice or gruel, or any other food than the coarse viands that were served out to the ship's company.

Strictland was with me whenever he could be spared from his regular duties, and gave me encouragement and aid. But I could not conceal from myself that my illness was becoming a serious matter. I accidentally heard two or three of the crew conversing about my sickness one day, and, to my great consternation, they came to the conclusion that I was rapidly sinking, and they would soon be rid of my company.

"Yaw," muttered in thick guttural tones a thick-headed Dutchman, who had manifested towards me particular dislike, "in one or TWO days more, at farthest, we shall help to carry him ashore in a wooden box." And a pleasant smile for a moment lighted up his ugly features.

"You lie, you heartless vagabond!" I exclaimed, giving a loose to my indignation; "you won't get rid of me so easily as you think. I will live and laugh at you yet, were it only to disappoint your expectations."

Nevertheless, the opinion which my unsympathizing shipmates thus volunteered came over me like an electric shock. It sounded in my ears like a sentence of death. I crawled along the lower deck into the forecastle, and from the bottom of my chest took a small looking-glass which I had not used for weeks. I saw the reflection of my features, and started back aghast. The transformation was appalling. The uncombed locks, the sunken eyes, the pallid, fleshless cheeks, the sharp features, and the anxious, agonized expression caused by continual pain, all seemed to have been suddenly created by the spell of some malignant enchanter. I did not venture to take a second look, and no longer wondered at the gloomy prediction of my companions.

The next day I found myself growing worse, and the pain increasing; and, notwithstanding my determination to recover and falsify the prediction of my unfeeling shipmates, I should undoubtedly have followed the dark path which thousands of my young countrymen, sick and neglected in a foreign land, had trod before, had I not received aid from an unexpected quarter. I was crawling along the main deck, near the gangway, when Mr. Parker, the supercargo, came on board. As he stepped over the gunwale, my appearance, fortunately for me, arrested his attention. He inquired my name, examined my condition, and seemed greatly shocked at the brutal neglect I had experienced. He told me to be of good courage; that it was not yet too late to arrest the progress of my disease. He commenced his healing operations by administering a copious dose of laudanum, which immediately relieved my pain and threw me into a refreshing sleep. He furnished me with other medicines, ordered me food suitable to my condition, and in a few days, owing to his humanity, care, and skill, I no longer suffered excepting from debility.

When Porto Cabello was recaptured by the Spaniards, in 1812, there was a number of French families in the place, who, having sympathized with the Patriots, received an intimation that their presence would be no longer tolerated; that they must shift their quarters forthwith. They accordingly purchased a small schooner, called "La Concha," put all their movable property on board, procured a French captain and mate, and prepared to embark for St. Bartholomew. When I heard of the expedition, two men were required to complete the crew. I conferred with Strictland; we both regarded it as an opportunity too favorable to be neglected, imagining that if we could reach St. Bartholomew, a neutral port, there would be no difficulty in getting a passage to the United States. We lost no time in calling on the captain, and offered to work our passage to St. Bartholomew an offer which was gladly accepted.

I expended a few of my Spanish dollars in providing necessaries for our voyage, which might be of two or three weeks' duration, and when the time appointed for the departure of the schooner arrived, we bade farewell to the Charity, and in a few hours, while sailing close-hauled on a wind to the northward, beheld the fortifications at the mouth of the harbor lessening in the distance.

The entrance to the harbor of Porto Cabello was once the theatre of one of the most gallant exploits recorded in the annals of naval warfare. A mutiny took place on board the British frigate Hermione, in 1799, while on the West India station, in consequence, it was said, of the harsh treatment which the crew received. The officers were murdered and thrown overboard. Captain Pigot, who commanded the frigate, after receiving several wounds, retreated to his cabin, and defended himself desperately with his dirk until he was bayoneted by the mutineers.

The frigate, thus taken possession of, was carried into Porto Cabello and delivered up to the Spanish authorities; Spain at that time being at war with Great Britain. The red-handed mutineers dispersed, and many of them subsequently returned to their native country, but were from time to time arrested, tried by court martial, and executed.

Indeed, no pains or expense were spared by the British government to bring these mutineers to punishment. They were sought for in every part of the world; hunted out of their hiding-places, and hanged. No false philanthropy interfered in their behalf, and threw obstacles in the swift and sure career of justice. Very few, if any, escaped the terrible punishment due to their crimes MUTINY AND MURDER ON THE HIGH SEAS. The effect of the EXAMPLE, which is the object of capital punishment was most salutary. No mutiny has occurred in the British navy since that time.

The Hermione was regarded as a lawful prize by the Spaniards, notwithstanding the extraordinary manner by which the ship fell into their hands. She was refitted; a crew of four hundred men, including marines, were put on board, and, ready for a cruise, she lay at anchor near the entrance of the harbor and within musket shot of the principal fortifications, which mounted two hundred cannon.