The order had scarcely left the mouth of the second mate before the agile forms of a score of men sprang lightly up the shrouds to obey the mandate.
‘How is it the men obey you and not me, Mr. Channing?’
‘Mr. Banning, it is blowing pretty fresh as you must see,’ was the reply, and perhaps it is rather crowding the brig to make this new sail just now, but if you think it proper, the menmustdo it, sir.’
‘Well, put her under what canvass you like,’ said the mate to Channing as he left the deck, not a little mortified at the scene that had just taken place.
Channing rather pitied than blamed his fellow officer, and therefore was determined at any rate that his order should be obeyed; besides, he was not a person to relax the reins of discipline although much loved by the crew. He saw the impropriety of putting the brig under more sail as well as the crew, but it was not for him or them to judge in such a matter when there was a superior officer on deck. The error was soon remedied by the good judgment of Channing, and the beautiful vessel buffeting the waves still sprang on her course in safety, under the care of a higher power than any on board, bending gracefully under the influence of the freshening breeze.
THE RUSE OF THE CAPTAIN, MUTINY! A NEW COMMANDER. ATTEMPTED ASSASSINATION. A FATAL AND BLOODY SCENE. SAIL HO! AN ENEMY. THE PINE TREE FLAG. THE SEA FIGHT AND THE VICTORY.
All the crew of the brig Constance, save the captain, first mate and cook, were Americans, if we except Terrence Mooney who was one at heart, and the captain had managed to have this the case in order that he might take them home to England and receive the bounty money upon each one who would be immediately pressed into the British Navy. He had arrived at Boston but a few weeks previous to his sailing upon the present voyage with a crew of his own countrymen, upon whom he had also played the same trick, by delivering them over to the King’s ship that floated in Boston harbor, It was a hard fate to most of them who would as willingly have been immured in the walls of a prison. They told as a matter of consolation that they would not have to serve but about three years! And this, to men who had left families at home, to whom they had expected to return in a few weeks. It is a foul deed to impress a man into any duty, and foul must be the service that requires the exercise of such deeds.
The captain of the Constance was enabled to obtain a sufficient number of Americans to man his craft, by offering very high wages, and under the pretence of making a voyage to the West Indies only and back, for they knew not of his treachery to his former crew. The plan of the captain in the present case was, after reaching his port in those latitudes, to pretend to have ascertained that which rendered it absolutely necessary for him to proceed immediately to England, intending to pacify the crew by the promise of immediate return and increase of pay. This piece of treachery the captain thought was known only to himself and his first mate, but he was mistaken for Channing had announced to Jack Herbert as the reader will remember, the destination of the brig, on the evening previous to their sailing from Boston. Thus it was evident that Channing fully understood the proposed treachery and that he designed to turn it to good advantage, or else he would not have shipped on board knowing that which he did.
The North American Colonies were then at war with the mother country, the brig was a British brig, and Channing was an American. His heart beat warmly for the cause of his country, he looked about him, there were twenty men, all save one, his fellow countrymen, about to be betrayed into the hands of their enemies. His mind was determined, and he said within himself this shall not be! He had fortunately overheard the captain and the first mate congratulating themselves on having so nearly obtained their full complement of men on the day previous to the enlistment of Herbert, and thus had he become master of their secret purpose of treachery.
Already had the brig changed the chill northern blasts for the sunny breezes of the South, and she was, according to the reckoning of Channing, about a day’s sail from Cuba, when he determined that the good brig Constance should change hands, and from a British, become an American craft. It was a bold undertaking; the two greatest sins that a sailor is taught to dread, Mutiny and piracy, were staring him full in the face. He did not design to implicate a single member of the crew in the transaction, but resolved to make the attempt to gain possession of the vessel, alone and unassisted. He had two reasons for this: first, he was too good a disciplinarian to tamper with those below him, and he foresaw that if he should once become familiar with them in a matter of conspiracy, he could no longer command their respect. Then again he felt that he had no right to draw them into the danger incurred, and that it would be far more noble in him to accomplish that which was to be done with his own hands—after that, if he proved successful, those could join him who felt disposed. Early one morning, Channing went down into the captain’s cabin, whom he found just rising from his bed. Stepping to the table he possessed himself of the brace of pistols that lay upon it, and also the cutlass that hung from the wall; then turning to the captain who was hardly yet awake, he said: ‘Captain Brownless, you are my prisoner!’
‘Sir?’ said the astonished commander. ‘You are my prisoner!’ repeated Channing. ‘Mutiny?’ enquiringly put the captain, a dark scowl gathering like a cloud over his bloated, bacchanalian countenance. ‘Yes, mutiny if you please.’
‘By Heaven, but we will fight for it,’ said Captain Brownless, who was a man of some bravery—brave as the animal or wild beast is brave in defending its own, not nobly so.
‘Stay, sir,’ said Channing, coolly cocking a pistol and presenting it at the captain’s breast. ‘If you attempt to leave this cabin, you are a dead man!’
The captain sank down upon a chair in despair. ‘Be peaceable, sir,’ said Channing, ‘and I will pledge myself that no harm shall befall you personally; but seek to make even a breath of noise, or resistance, and you shall be sent into eternity with all your sins upon your head.’
Channing then proceeded to the cabin of the second officer, but not until he had locked the captain securely in his own apartment.
‘Banning, I regret to say you are my prisoner,’ said Channing to the mate, after securing his arms as he had done the captain’s.
‘Hey? what, mutiny?’ ejaculated the terrified man. ‘Yes, Banning, and piracy if you will.’
‘Oh! spare my life,’ said the trembling coward. ‘No danger, sir, if you remain quiet.’
‘Oh, I’ll do nothing,’ continued the mate. ‘Show your obedience by being quiet now.’
Channing then locked Banning in his state-room, and ascended to the deck. He had left Jack Herbert at the helm and in charge of the ship; he now sent him forward to order the crew aft to where he stood, as he wished to speak with them.
‘Well my boys,’ commenced Channing addressing the crew,
‘I have got some news for you. The captain is disarmed and locked in his cabin as my prisoner; so is Mr. Banning, the mate.
I have done this because I’m determined to have possession of this brig myself. She’s a British brig, you are all, or nearly so, Americans; I am also an American, and this brig must belong to Americans. I am alone responsible for what has been done. You are now without a captain. How many of you will ship under me?’
‘All—all,’ was the response from every quarter.
‘Thanks to you, my men. I shall leave it to Mr. Herbert—mark me, it is Mr. Herbert in future—to tell you of the treachery that it was proposed to play off upon you. He will also be my second in command, and you will obey him as you would do and have ever done me. I shall alter the course of the brig and stand for St. Domingo, where I shall land the captain and mate, and those of you who do not feel inclined to join me. Then I am bound on an expedition to free a couple of Americans from a Spanish prison. After that, why, we will see what next—perhaps a few prizes or something of that sort.’
Jack Herbert had already told the men of his confinement and escape from prison at Havana, and of the present confinement of Lovell and his comrade there, and when they heard their new captain express his determination to release them if the thing was possible, they joined unanimously and heartily in the enterprise.
‘Hurrah, hurrah,’ said they altogether, it being the only way in which they could express their satisfaction.
‘Now mark me, men,’ said Channing, ‘I think you all know me without my giving you such a speech as we had on leaving Boston harbor. Iamcaptain, that you all acknowledge, and that I am one whowillbe obeyed, I believe you all know, as well as that I have the comfort and good of every man of you at heart. These I shall consider as long as we sail together, this I think you are satisfied of—’
‘Three cheers for Captain Channing,’ interrupted the crew at this point, and the brig trembled at the echo of the hearty voices of those old sea-dogs who had now got a commander just to their minds.
‘Enough,’ said Channing raising his hand for silence; ‘now forward to your duty, and let me see you all as zealous in its performance as heretofore.’
‘There’s a captain to live and die by,’ said Terrence Moony.
The brig held on her course, and was now just abreast of the fatal reef of rocks known as the ‘Silver keys’ Their dangerous proximity gave little alarm to those on board the Constance, for they knew nothing of their character, and by good fortune passed them in safety. This well-known reef is now laid down in every chart, but it has proved since that time, the burial place of many a gallant ship and noble crew.
Channing had chosen his officers from the crew, making Jack Herbert his first mate as we have seen; he was fortunate in having those on board who were good practical seamen, and such to as he need not fear to trust. It is now night, and Channing leaving the deck in charge of Herbert, sought the cabin for the purpose of getting a few hours’ sleep. He was very weary, indeed almost tired out, for he allowed himself but little rest, being almost constantly on deck through the whole of the day and much of the night.
The cook, as we have before mentioned, was the only one of the crew besides Terrence Moony, the mate and captain, who were not Americans by birth, and as he had appeared to coincide with the rest in hailing the new captain with demonstrations of joy, he had been permitted to remain in his former station and at liberty. Now although Banning the ex-mate was a coward himself, still he could intrigue and plan for others to execute; and being allowed his liberty by Channing, who considered him as a weak, inoffensive person, he set himself to work to overthrow him if possible. He therefore conspired with the cook, whom he knew to be a reckless, blood-thirsty man, to murder Channing on the first favorable opportunity. The man needed but little urging, and being promised a handsome reward and promotion if he succeeded, he undertook to accomplish the foul deed.
Captain Brownless had also been allowed his liberty in the vessel with certain restrictions, by reason of the unanimous feeling of the crew against him, for his former course of treatment towards them. Although Banning might have found a ready tool in the late captain, and a brave one too yet he disliked him so much at heart that he would not conspire with him even in this extremity. For this reason, the proposed attack which was to be made on Channing on the night in which we have just spoken of him as returning to the cabin to sleep, was known only to Banning and the cook.
About the middle watch of the night, the cook left his hammock and stole quietly towards the captain’s cabin. In his hand he held a long, sharp knife prepared for the occasion, and with which he designed to take the life of Channing. Satisfying himself that he was not watched, he reached the door of the cabin in safety, though he was somewhat surprised to find it partially open and the light extinguished. All was as dark as night itself, but the cook trusted to his knowledge of the apartment, and passed on groping his way in silence, when suddenly he felt that his hand touched the warm face of a man, and in the next moment the two were engaged in mortal strife, each stabbing the other in the dark with fearful accuracy!—The noise thus caused in the cabin brought down a part of the watch from the deck with ship lanterns, when lo a horrid sight met their eyes!
There lay upon the floor of the cabin weltering in their blood, the cook and Captain Brownless. Both had sought the spot for the same object, intent upon taking the life of Channing, and each had thought he had his enemy in his grasp, until the lights were brought and discovered to them their situation; Channing stood with a pistol cocked in either hand ready to defend himself if necessary, but now seeing the true state of the case, he cooly remembered that there were two the less of them, and ordered the bodies removed.
‘The divil take um, and salvation to the captain,’ said Terrence Moony, ‘aint he in holy keeping? and what’s the use of trying to kill a man that has the saints on his side? Arrah murtheration how heavy ye’s is,’ said he as he assisted to remove the bodies.
The late captain of the Constance and the cook lived but a few hours after the desperate conflict we have described, and their bodies were soon consigned to the deep. Suspicion was laid at once to Banning as the instigator of the cook, and it required the stern authority of Channing to keep the crew from falling upon him, and murdering him outright. In a few subsequent days with his effects he was landed at the island of St. Domingo; thus leaving the brig manned, and officered entirely by Americans, and no mean antagonist was she now for an enemy to cope with. Channing felt himself now master when he looked about him and saw none but his own countrymen with whom he had a common interest. He did not propose to run any unnecessary hazard, such as attempting to take a prize or otherwise, previous to his attempt to liberate the prisoners at Havana. But as the brig was blowing swiftly on her course towards the Spanish port just named, the voice of the look-out aloft was heard in the cheering cry of:
‘Sail ho!’
‘Where away,’ demanded the captain.
‘Right ahead, sir.’
‘What do you make it out?’
‘I can only see her top-sails, sir, she looms up like a large ship.’
The course of the brig was altered to one or two points more Southerly, and ere long the strange sail creeping up inch by inch in-the horizon was distinctly visible from the deck. She was evidently a barque of about five hundred tons burthen, and had the appearance of being an English merchantman.
‘Mr. Herbert,’ said the captain, ‘what do you make out of the sail yonder?’
‘A British barque, sir,’
‘No doubt, but do you think her armed?’
‘She’s lower in the waist than we are, sir, and yet I can’t justly make out the deck, sir,’ was the reply of the second officer.
‘Run up to the fore-top cross trees, sir, and take this glass with you.’
‘Ay ay, sir,’ said Herbert leaping up the rigging to get a better view of the stranger, who was now nearing them fast.
‘Fore-cross trees there,’ hailed Channing after allowing Herbert time to get a good look at the stranger.
‘Ay, ay, sir.’
‘Can you make out her armament?’
‘She’s got five or six caronnades on her deck, sir, but nothing of very heavy calibre that I can make out.’
‘That will do, sir.’
This was equivalent to saying, ‘you may come down, Mr. Herbert,’ and so Jack came down to the quarter-deck.
‘Mr. Herbert, that is St. George’s flag floating from the main of that barque. Shall we show them the flag of the colonies? What think you—would they stare at it?’
‘No doubt of that, sir, being’s he’s never been in these latitudes yet, but where can we get one, sir?’
‘I have looked out for that.’
Thus saying Channing retired to the cabin, but soon returned to the deck with a flag bearing the device of a pine tree.
‘Run that up, and fire a gun, sir.’
‘Ay, ay, sir,’ and up went the humble flag of the North American colonies.
This was scarcely done when the barque sent a shot towards the brig in defiance. The Constance did not have the appearance of an armed vessel when seen from a distance and her ports closed, and indeed she appeared much inferior to her true size by reason of her sitting low in the water and the height of her waist hiding her armament. Even the long tom amidships was so covered over with ropes and other ship gear, that unless a close observer, one would not have discovered it. The captain of the English barque evidently expected to make an easy prey of her, and therefore began to fire, by way of bravado, long before he had got within gun shot with his own light metal.
‘Clear away the long tom,’ said Channing.’
The gear was cast from its fastenings, and the deck about it was cleared of the heaps of rubbish and all obstacles about it.
‘We’ll play him a game of long bowls, Mr. Herbert,’ said the captain of the brig, ‘and this we can do with safety if your surmise with regard to his armament be true.’
‘I’m the more convinced of it, sir, from the fact of his throwing those small shot at us from the distance he holds,’ said Herbert.
‘Just so, no doubt, step forward there and oversee that gun, don’t throw away a single shot, we shall need them all.’
‘Ay, ay, sir,’ said the prompt and obedient Herbert.
Herbert pointed the gun, and though he was an excellent sailor, but in the matter of gunnery, he had but very little if any experience. His first shot therefore sunk somewhere about half way between the two vessels. The next broke the water about a quarter of a mile ahead of the barque, and the next half as far astern. While he was loading the fourth time, Channing called to him cheerfully, saying: ‘You have got the elevation, Herbert, now put a shot right between those two last and you have the aim.’
‘Ay, ay, sir,’ said the mortified mate, who could not but be a little chagrined at his unfortunate luck, albeit it was new business to him.
Bang! went the long tom again, and Herbert leaping upon a gun carriage, raised himself above the waist of the Constance, to watch the effect of the shot. Scarcely had the heavy report of the gun died away to leeward, before the splinters were seen to fly from the deck of the barque in great abundance.
‘Well done, Mr. Herbert,’ said the captain, ‘you have got her bearing now, don’t let the gun cool, sir.’
The long tom then commenced a conversation of the most convincing character to the crew of the barque, who were compelled to receive shot after shot from the brig without being able to return the compliment, the Constance being kept well out of the way of the small shot. The brig had the weather gage and she was much the best sailor, therefore she chose her own position. This was a game that could not last long, and the barque at length after being severely cut up in her rigging and losing several of her crew, was absolutely compelled to haul down her flag, or be sunk where she lay. Several of the shot from the Constance had struck her about the water line and she had also suffered so much in her rigging as to render an attempt at escape fool-hardy. It was a difficult matter for the captain of the barque to strike the English flag to one that he neither knew or had ever heard of before, but stern necessity was imperative, and the proud flag of St. George was lowered to the pine tree of the American Colonies.
This was one of the earliest if not the very first capture upon the high seas so far from our own country by the humble but victorious flag of the Colonies. It was then a child, it is now grown to the full stature of a man, and floats proudly in every sea, and undaunted side by side with equal honor and equally respected with that of the mother country. Who could have foretold its future glory and power? Those who fought under that flag little dreamed of it, but Heaven was with the right and they were victorious. The pride of the parent country was to receive a fall, its arrogance was to be signally reproved and this was to be done by her dependant Colonies of North America.
Itwas done!
The barque was the George of Bristol, and did we deem it of any importance to our tale we could easily prove to the reader here the authenticity of this engagement between the brig Constance which had fallen into the hands of the Americans and the barque George, merchantman of Bristol, England. The pine tree flag had never before floated in the seas of the West Indias and Captain Channing’s hand was the first to give it to the breeze and fight under its folds in these seas of perpetual summer.
STATE OF HOSTILITIES, DISPOSITION OF THE PRIZE, ANOTHER MUTINY. FATE OF THE LEADER. PLAN FOR LIBERATING THE PRISONERS. THE EXPEDITION. HAVANA. THE RESULT. THE MEETING OF FRIENDS. A NEW OFFICER.
At the time the Constance left the port of Boston, hostilities were already the result of the oppression of the British parliament upon the American colonies; indeed the town was already besieged by the continental army under General Washington. The battles of Lexington, Concord, and Bunker Hill, had resulted in a general resort to arms, by every true hearted son of liberty. Although the commander-in-chief, General Howe, (Gen. Gage having been superceded) would not admit that he wasbesieged, but spoke of his situation and that of the army as laying in winter quarters only, yet he knew full well that all communication with the country was entirely cut off, and that even by water he could not depend upon the safe arrival of provisions unless under strong convoy. His own table at the same time showing a lack of fresh provisions, while the soldiers suffered both in this respect and for the want of fuel, which was so scarce as to lead them to destroy small wooden tenements and convert them into fire-wood. In fact the British garrison were suffering all the inconveniences of a besieged town. The Americans had already fitted out several privateers, poorly armed to be sure, but they were manned by young and indomitable spirits, whose determination and consciousness of the justice of their cause rendered them almost invulnerable, and they did seem ever victorious. The captures they frequently made of provisions and ammunition were of material assistance to Washington and the army gathered upon the skirts of the town. They were but inefficiently supplied with food and clothing, and as to ammunition and implements of war; every article thus captured was a perfect Godsend to their limited stock, while in munitions of war their enemies had nothing to desire, their supply was abundant.
We are not obliged to depend solely upon books of history and old musty records for information relating to this important era in our national history, no. There are grey haired old men among us, whose eyes are not yet dim and whose spirits still burn bright; men who were early fostered at the foundation of liberty, and who spilled their blood in their country’s cause. They will tell you of these things as having occurred in their day and generation, and in which they acted a part. They will tell you of the hardships and vicissitudes of a people struggling for freedom, and of the almost incredible sufferings cheerfully endured by all in furtherance of the great and holy cause in which they had embarked.
When we realize the state of affairs at the time the brig left Boston, we shall see that Channing was fully justified in the capture of the vessel he had thus encountered. The captain of the barque was unprepared for such an enemy and had supposed the brig to be one of the roving buccaniers of the day, which crowded the tropical seas at that period but when he found that he had struck his flag to a privateer of the American colonies as he was informed, his rage was absolutely unbounded; he was beside himself with passion.
‘I would rather have sunk where I lay, or have been taken by the fiercest pirate on the ocean than to have struck St. George’s flag to a rebel,5 said he.
‘The matter was beyond your control,’ answered Captain Channing, ‘and you certainly are no more to blame in the premises than you would be had you struck your flag to a buccanier as you had supposed.’
‘Poor consolation,’ said the enraged Englishman scornfully.
‘The very best I can offer nevertheless,’ was the answer.
‘And what do you propose to do with us now you have got possession,’ asked the captain of the barque. ‘Hang us up, all at the yard arm? eh?’
‘You will be treated as prisoners of war, sir,’ was the mild reply.
The prisoners were being secured and continued below, when Terrence Moony came aft to the quarter deck, where he stood with his hat off, twirling in his hands, endeavoring to attract the attention of his commander, who at length observing him asked:
‘Well, Terrence what’s in the wind now.’
‘Plase yer honor, I’ve a frind here wid your permission, as wants to jine the brig, sir,’ answered the Irishman.
‘A recruit?’ asked Channing, ‘and from among the prisoners; no, Terrence, we only want our own countrymen, unless indeed it may be one of yours, who are most surely with us in heart at least.’
‘That’s jist it, your honor, he’s Irish to the back bone of him.’
‘If that’s the case, Terrence, and you will be responsible for his good behaviour, we will register his name and he shall be paid with the rest.’
‘Oh, long life to ye’s and all sich,’ said Terrence.
The honest Hibernian actually danced with delight. He had by one of those singular freaks of fortune, which do sometimes occur, met among the prisoners an old school-mate, or rather townsman, for precious little schooling had Terrence ever en-enjoyed. The man was very happy to join his comrade and to serve in the brig in behalf of the colonists.
The crew of the prize consisted of fourteen seamen with three officers. One of the latter was killed outright during the engagement and three of the former. Captain Channing had learned a lesson by his former cruising that he would not soon forget. He now divided the crew of his prize, placing half in each vessel under close confinement. There were two among them who represented themselves to be Americans, and who willingly accepted the proposition to join the crew of the brig. Channing could poorly afford to spare his first mate Jack Herbert, but he concluded to place him in command of the barque, with six of the crew of the brig to work her, assisted by the two Americans just named as having joined the victors. This being done Herbert was ordered to keep as near as possible to the brig, that both might act in concert when it should be found necessary.
The ‘George of Bristol’ proved to be a rich prize. She had a large store of small arms, and ammunition, besides a considerable sum of money in specie, with a light cargo of fruit and was bound for the port of Boston, having just taken in her cargo.
Both vessels now stood for the island of Cuba. Channing, who was unacquainted in these seas, was fortunate enough to find a couple of trusty men among his crew, who had been for several years in the West India trade as seamen. These men proved of great service to him on this occasion in the capacity of pilots.
The day after the capture of the barque, Channing stood by the taffrail of the Constance looking towards the barque which was following in his wake, when suddenly he observed a commotion on the deck, and taking his glass he could easily discern that there was a fight or some unusual commotion at least. The topsails of the brig were thrown aback, the vessel hove to, and entering a boat, Channing pulled towards the barque, which was now coming up to where the Constance lay. As he reached her side, he overheard the loud voices of the crew in contention, and a cry for help or mercy, from some on deck. The crew were evidently so much engaged that they had not observed the approach of Channing, who actually ascended the side of the prize before he was observed. What was his surprise to find Jack Herbert, his first mate, and whom he had just placed in command of the barque, bound and bleeding upon the deck, while two of the men he had detailed from his own crew stood over him to protect him from further violence from the remainder of the crew! He leaped upon the deck between the two parties with a pistol in either hand and a face upon which determination of character shone out like a star.
‘Mutiny?’ said he half enquiringly.
‘Why you see, your honor—’ ventured one of the men.
‘Peace then,’ said Channing, ‘who made you spokesman for this ship?’
‘We thought, your honor,’ commenced another.
‘Stay, fellow, no excuse, there is none. Unbind that man,’ he said in a voice so low and musical that one would have thought it was a farce being rehearsed instead of a scene of blood. But those about him saw by blue eye that watched their every movement that theymustobey. The mate was quickly unbound, and the men shrunk cowering away from the spot, gathering in a knot forward, and the most disaffected grumbling aloud. Suddenly one of this latter number, as if determined to do some mischief, sprang off to the tiller rope, and taking a knife from his pocket was about to sever it, when Channing whose quick eye had followed him said: ‘Hold there, what would you do?’
‘You ain’t old enough, sir, according to my reckoning,’ said the man insolently, ‘to command two vessels at the same time.’
‘Hold there, I say,’ continued Channing ‘cut that rope and you sever your own existence. Now cut if you will,’ said he levelling a pistol at the man.
This man was one of the crew taken in the prize, and who had falsely represented himself to be an American. He now paused for a single moment as if undecided and then cut the rope, which caused the ship to broach to at once: but it was the death signal of the mutineer. Channing, taking a step or two towards him, sent a ball direct to his heart, the man gave a terrific scream of agony and pain, and leaped into the sea a corpse.
‘Who is there here that wishes to share that man’s fate? Who will make himself an example for the rest?’ said Channing, still in the same low musical tone of voice, while his eyes shone like living fire, and his finger rested on the trigger of another pistol. Two or three of the men now fell upon their knees and implored forgiveness.
‘You richly deserve the yard arm,’ he said.
‘Spare us,’ they cried; one or two having got a glimpse of their late companion who still floated along side, were trembling with fear.
‘That will depend upon your future conduct,’ was the answer.
Channing soon learned that the Englishman whom he had just shot was the cause of all the trouble and that he had by his oily tongue seduced the rest from their duty. They falling upon Herbert when he was off his guard had bound him. At the moment of Channing’s arrival on board they were discussing the propriety of taking the mate’s life, and were about to release the prisoners who were below. The two who stood over the mate were not in the plot and were determined to protect him as far as was in their power. The mutineers were carried on board the Constance and exchanged for an equal number of her crew, whereupon Channing immediately liberated them, telling them as he did so, that if they wished to try any such game under his eye, they were at liberty to commence as soon as they had made up their minds, to a like fate with their late companion. But they understood with whom they had to deal, and strove by their ready compliance with every order, and their zeal to perform their duty, to show that they really regretted their late conduct.
There was no fear of another out-break; the mutineers were subdued both in deed and spirit. No one could blame the cap-taip for his conduct, nor did any one of his crew do so at heart. It was a critical moment, a single mis-step would have lost all and perhaps have been the signal for his own death. It was no time for blustering, but for cool and decided action, which reestablished his authority and showed the men that he was one not to be trifled with. There was no passion displayed. Channing did not loose his temper even for a moment. No, he spoke perhaps a key lower than was his wont, yet there was a fearful distinctness in his words to those men, that was not to be mistaken.
Captain Channing did not purpose to enter the harbor of Havana with his vessels, but proposed to seek a quiet anchorage outside, then enter the harbor at night with a chosen boat’s crew and attempt the release of Lovell and his companion in misery. The vessels were therefore brought to anchorage without the harbor and hidden from observation by the rise of a friendly hill. Channing then sent for his first mate Jack Herbert, and it was agreed to make the attempt to release the prisoner that night.
‘You are sure you remember the ground?’ asked Channing of Herbert.
‘Every inch of it,’ said Herbert.
‘And the jailor’s ward?’
‘That’s at the entrance on the port side.’
‘You think you can pilot safely?’
‘Ay, sir, as to knowing the way.’
‘That’s all. I know your courage, Herbert.’
‘Thank ye, sir,’ said Jack.
‘Well then, I’ll take a boat this night at ten o’clock and pull round into the harbor with your six men well armed. First, we will divide ourselveshere, after landing—’ said Channing taking a little chart from his pocket which represented the prison and the contiguous grounds, drawn from memory by Herbert, and pointing to the back part of the prison. ‘We must divide our number here, and passing round each party by different sides, manage to silence the sentinels that guard the different angles. This must be done as silently as possible, no noise you understand, that would destroy all.’
‘Yes sir, and bring down the whole barracks upon us.’
The sentinels once silenced and entrance gained to the jailor’s ward, I think there will be no further trouble. Do you consider my plan a good and practical one, Mr. Herbert?’
‘Just the thing, sir.’
‘Much will depend upon our discretion.’
‘Everything, sir.’
‘This must be impressed upon the men.’
‘I will drill them to a nicety, sir, before we start,’ said Herbert. ‘One great advantage we shall have, these cursed Spanish sentinels, sleep half the time upon their posts, and if we arrive in lucky time, we may catch them napping, and that would be half of the battle gained at the outset, sir.’
‘Do you remember at what hour the guard is changed? asked Channing.
‘Let me think; at eight, twelve and four, I believe.’
‘We must manage to arrive at about one o’clock, A. M. The midnight guard will be comfortably settled for the watch by that time,’ said Channing.
‘Just so, sir, the fellow will be snoring by that time I’ll be bound.’
‘I will select the men from the brig, Mr. Herbert, and you may come on board, sir, at about half past nine well armed.’
‘Will one boat be enough, sir?’
‘Better for all purposes than two, and we must leave a respectable force in charge of the prisoners, who need looking to.’
‘Very true, sir,’ replied Herbert.
‘I had rather have six chosen men, and they good ones, than three times the number to attempt such an enterprise with,’ said Channing.
Thus the captain and his second separated to meet again at the appointed hour for the hazardous undertaking.
The mild and beautiful climate of Cuba seems more like the Elysian fields of poetic birth, than the air that forms the islands of the ocean. Beautiful indeed is the genial influence of the mild zephyrs that breathe over these pacific seas. As evening knelt and cast her broad mantle over land and sea, the two vessels lay side by side, close under the lee of the island, while the young commander awaited with apparent impatience the arrival of the hour for the commencement of the proposed enterprise. At length with the appointed hour came Herbert from on board the barque, and the men having been directed to their duty, were each one supplied with arms, and the boat with Herbert at the helm, now lay at the side of the brig awaiting the presence of Channing.
He soon made his appearance from the cabin, dressed in white pants and a becoming frock coat. About his waist was tied a heavy silk sash, into which was thrust a pair of boarding pistols, and at his side hung a light but servicable cutlass. He wore a graceful velvet cap upon his head and looked the honest manly sailor that he was. He quickly descended to the boat and assuming his seat in the stem, asked of Mr. Herbert:
‘Are the oars muffled, sir?’
‘Ay, aye, sir!’
‘And everything in order?’
‘Everything, sir, according to order.’
‘Stay,’ said Channing, ‘Steward, hand me the brace of pistols and cutlasses on the cabin table; these prisoners may require arms should we release them.’
‘All ready, sir?’ asked Herbert, of the captain.
‘Yes sir.’
‘Cast off!’ said Herbert.
‘All clear, sir.’
‘Give way, men, steady, all together.’
These orders were given in quick succession, and promptly obeyed; and the boat glanced on its errand with the speed of an arrow.
It was a long pull from the anchorage of the two vessels to the entrance of the harbor of Havana, but the time had been well calculated upon, and its mouth was reached at the desirable moment. The boat glided at once from the open sea into the quiet land-locked harbor, without molestation. They kept well in for the shore, and soon reached the spot selected for them to disembark at.
Here we cannot but pause to say a word of the broad and ever beautiful bay where a fleet of vessels may lay quietly at anchor, and whose entrance will admit but a single ship at a time. Who has not heard of the celebrated Moro castle that to this day guards the mouth of the harbor of Havana? Who can ever forget the rough hoarse hail from ‘Moro’ who has passed into the fairy-like basin beyond? The shores though not remarkably bold are yet very beautiful. The tall majestic palm and other tropical trees, the genial softness and beauty of the foliage and verdure, the rich glowing sky and fervid sun, all serve to remind you that you are in a land of perpetual summer. You are carried back in your imagination to the time in which the weary watching barque of Columbus was first cheered by the soul thrilling cry of, ‘Land ho!’
And when the gallant adventurer and discoverer rested in peace before the sunny isle of Cuba!
Leaving only one of the crew in charge of the boat, Channing and his second officer crept quietly and unobserved to the prison, in which Lovell and his companion were confined; but as they neared its frowning walls, the low call of the sleepy sentinel on the eastern angle was heard, ‘Who goes there?’
No answer was given to this summons while Herbert bade the men in a whisper to keep close.
‘I will silence this fellow,’ said he to Channing.
Herbert was soon close upon him creeping upon his hands and feet, and scarcely had the second challenge been uttered when he sprang upon the soldier from behind, and placing his knee in the middle of his back, bent him instantly to the ground. In the next moment the sentinel’s neckcloth was pressed down his throat to prevent his giving the alarm, and at a preconcerted signal made by Herbert, the crew came to the spot and bound him. The other three soldiers were caught sleeping as had been predicted, and each was secured and gagged without noise. They were taken thus bound hand and foot, and placed in the little guard room in front of the prison under the care of one of the crew. The rest of the party led by Herbert as guide and Channing their commander, sought the apartment of the old jailor, who was soon made to give up the keys, and directly the cell supposed to contain the two young Americans was unlocked, when two men with their fa: ces covered with hair made their appearance. Both immediately recognized Herbert, but he could hardly believe that the two miserable beings before him were his late companions, but he soon found that there could be no mistake on that, head at least, and he was soon clasped in their warm embrace.
‘So you have come at last,’ said Lovell after recovering from his excess of feeling.
‘I feared that once at home with the joys and comforts about you that are found there, you would hardly remember us.’
‘You ought to have known better, Bill,’ said Herbert wiping his eyes.
‘True, I did you injustice; forgive me.’
And the two shook hands again, heartily, drying their eyes the while.
‘Come, we waste time,’ said Channing endeavoring to suppress his emotions at the evident suffering manifest before him.
‘Whom have we here?’ asked Lovell pointing to Channing.
‘Oh! that’s the captain whom you owe everything, for I couldn’t have done anything alone. Damme if I hadn’t forgot manners,’ said honest Jack Herbert, ‘let me introduce you—Captain Channing, this is Mr. Lovell, sir, and this his companion whom you have come so far to liberate.’
‘Your servant, gentlemen,’ said Channing.
‘What could have induced such generosity,’ asked Lovell.
‘Nay, gentlemen,’ said Channing, ‘you must save your thanks for the person who sent me, and remember that I am but an agent.’
‘Then you are a most faithful one,’ said Lovell as he warmly pressed the captain’s hand, which trembled in his grasp. ‘Does the dampness of the prison chill you, sir?’ asked Lovell, ‘we have got quite used to it.’
‘Come, come,’ said Channing, ‘we waste time, and in this place from whence escape is so desirable.’
The party hastened from the prison, the boat was quickly gained without molestation and all being safely embarked they pulled quickly out of the harbor, for the place where the vessels lay. But the boat had hardly got without the quiet harbor before they knew by the roll of the drum and the sound of bustle and confusion that the alarm had been given. But they were safe now, and laughed at the sound of confusion that came to their cars over the still bosom of the sea.
Having reached the brig in safety, they were soon embarked, and the anchors being weighed they stood out to sea at once. The first act of Captain Channing’s after arriving on board the Constance, and subsequent to a few necessary explanations relative to certain matters concerning the brig, was to appoint William Lovell as his first mate and to proclaim him as such to his crew.