HIGH HOCK. MOLL PITCHER THE FORTUNE-TELLER. ARRIVAL OF THE PRIZES. FANNY AND THE CAPTAIN OF THE DOLPHIN. A DECLARATION. AN INSULT. THE DEFENCE. THE FORTUNATE ESCAPE. ARRIVAL AT HOME. MEETING OF FRIENDS.
No American can or rather, should be, unacquainted with the principal events that induced the Parliament of great Britain in 1774, to lay those restrictions upon the port of Boston, which so destroyed her trade, and awoke the inhabitants of the Colonies to a true sense of their oppression. It is well known that the towns of Lynn, Salem, and Portsmouth, with a noble determination, refused to profit by the situation of their neighbors, the port of Boston being under actual blockade. For this reason as early as the date we have just named, and to the spring of the year 1776, when the British army evacuated Boston, it was a rare sight to see the canvass of any other vessel than such as wore the pennant of the King, whitening the waters of Massachusetts Bay. There was a virtual cessation of all branches of trade, and the prospects of the Bay Province, as that of Massachusetts was called, were of the most gloomy and foreboding character.
It was a clear cold morning in early spring, not but a few days subsequent to the evacuation of Boston by the minions of the King and Parliament, driven from their quarters by the guns of the Continentals planted on Dorchester Heights. The clear biting chill of our northern winter still lingered as if reluctant to give place to the more genial season that was soon to follow. The fishermen of the High Rock hamlet were impatiently awaiting the return of the season which would again call them into active service. The winter stock of provisions began to look dangerously small, and all things reminded the men that the time for them to renew their daring and venturesome trade was fast approaching. The nets were all mended, the lines renewed, and all their fishing tackle was well looked to. The boats hauled under temporary coverings erected upon the beach for that purpose, were all recaulked, and their seams well tarred, and secured against the element which was to bear them upon its breast—all and everything was ready for the opening season, which was soon to come.
As we have said, it was a clear cold morning, when a group of these fishermen, impatiently awaiting the approach of the time we have referred to, were seen ascending the steep acclivity of High Rock. Hardly had they gained its summit, before their gaze became riveted seaward, where they evidently saw some object of interest and surprise to them all.
‘What vessel is in the service of Congress,’ asked one of the fishermen, ‘that might be hereaway at this time? There are not so many in commission, as to permit them to take pleasure cruises along the coast.’
‘That’s true enough,’ said he who was addressed, ‘nor can I say what vessels these can possibly be. Can you make out the colors?’
‘The brig has the Continental flag,’ said the first speaker.
‘And her companions none at all,’ said the other.
‘The brig is an armed vessel, I should say.’
‘Yes, and so is the barque and ship, I should say,’ observed another, lowering a small spy glass from his eye.
‘It’s some gammon these British scamps are up to,’ said the first speaker. ‘But Washington has got possession of the town, and they won’t get it again in a hurry, that’s very certain.’
‘That brig has seen service,’ said he with the glass to his eye. ‘Her spars and rigging are a good deal cut up. I should rather guess that the two sails with her were prizes; she’s a sort of man-o-war look about her—eh? what do you think neighbors?’
‘Ay, ay, somewhat sarsy, with that rake to her masts to be sure,’ said one.
‘Guess you’re right—guess you’re right,’ said another.
Still the three vessels—a brig, a barque, and a ship—stood on for Boston harbor.—The sharp, cold air seemed to impart a deeper tinge of blue to the sea, upon which at this moment the sun shone brightly and warmly, as if awakening from his long winter’s sleep. The little group who had first got sight of the strange sails, were now joined by half the hamlet, all rife with curiosity at the sight before them.
Among the rest there stood a singular looking female. She was of the ordinary height, well formed, and quite handsome in features, and about twenty-six years of age. Her dress bespoke the singularity of her fancy, and until you saw the purity of her handsome face you might have supposed her an Indian maid but partially civilized; her costume being a singular combination of the Indian dress of America and the gipsy of Europe. There was a vacuum in her mild hazel eye, so to speak, a thoughtlessness, an indifference in her manner, that indicated a degree of mental abstraction.—Her brow was already partially wrinkled with care, and altogether she was a most singular object.
Her story is soon told. She was of humble but honorable birth, and being at the gentle age of fifteen, of unrivalled beauty both of form and face, an English officer of high rank, but a profligate at heart, saw her and was enamored of her beauty.
He poured the poison of oily eloquence into her young and unsuspecting ear; he gained her confidence and heart, ruined her, and then forsook her! From that hour she became another being, she wandered from her home, and at length resorted in her half deranged state to fortune-telling, and through her shrewdness and peculiarities gained an ample and sufficient livelihoood.
This was the far famed Moll Pitcher, the fortune-teller of Lynn!
Her little cottage was hard by, and impelled by the same spirit that had drawn so many others hither, she sought the summit of the lofty rock, and mingled with the rest. Many a Boston belle of more modern times has listened to her strange and, of times, truthful stories of the times of which we now write, or has heard with trembling her predictions of weal or woe. The mariners more particularly, for many miles along the coast, paid willing tribute to the witch of Lynn, believing in their simplicity that in her good will they bought for themselves security and safety from the perils and dangers of the sea. During the siege of Boston, Moll Pitcher was of essential service on several occasions in obtaining information concerning the operations of the enemy, their purposes and plans, and then communicating it to Washington. To be sure, she was well paid in gold for the information thus obtained by personal hazard—but General Washington was often heard to say Moll would’nt work forBritishgold, though she did not refuse the pay of the Colonists in the secret service she rendered the American army. The after history and life of this singular woman are too well known among us to require farther comment.
‘Moll,’ said one of the group, familiarly to her, ‘who are these strangers yonder in the vessels?’
‘Time will show!’ was the reply.
‘Ay, who doubts that?’
‘None, that I know of,’ was the vacant reply of the reputed witch.
‘But can’t you tell us, Moll, by your art who they really are? wether friends or enemies, rogues or honest men?’
‘Give me gold and I’ll try!’ was the reply.
‘No, no, Moll, we did but ask thee a friendly question, as a friend, and not in the way of thy trade.’
‘And as a friend I answered.’
‘Come, come, Moll, thou art dumpish to-day. Give us thy opinion now, and I will promise thee the first mess of fresh fish; there’s pay for thee; wilt speak now, woman?’
‘That brig lay in Boston harbor a couple of months gone by,’ said an old fisherman to the rest, ‘I know her by the rig.’
‘How’s that, neighbor?’ put in in one hard by; ‘a brig’s a brig, and to tell one from another at this distance, would require better eyes than either thine or mine.’
‘Aye but see you not that short mainmast, compared with the fore? She was just so when I noted her in Boston harbor, the day we pulled round there, neighbor Campbell.’
‘That’s all very true, no doubt,’ continued the questioner; ‘but what is she doing here if that’s the case? She must have been a British brig then, and now she hoists the flag of the colonies.’
‘Tis odd to be sure,’ said the other.
The three vessels that had so excited the curiosity of the people on the rock, came on with a fair wind and flowing sheets towards the Graves, as Boston lower light was then designated, and being the entrance to the outer harbor.
Suddenly all three, as if actuated by instinct or guided by one hand, tacked boldly to the North, and stood in towards the peninsula of Nahaut. This was the cause of still more surprise to those who were watching them from the rock.
But a short half hour elapsed before the three vessels rounded the rocky shore of the iron-bound peninsula, and shortly came to anchor in the little harbor of Lynn, within a cable’s length of the shore. The sails were furled, the usual routine of duty performed, and every rope placed in its proper place. The stems swung gracefully towards the shore, with the incoming tide, and there lay the Constance and her two prizes, safe in port. The purpose of the voyage was consummated at least in the release of the prisoners; but there was one whose liberty had been sacrificed as the cost.
The shores were soon crowded by the inquisitive inhabitants, who seeing no demonstrations of hostility, ventured boldly down to the shore, to ascertain what errand could possibly have brought the strangers into their quiet little basin for anchorage. Great was the astonishment of the good people to behold landing from the first boat William Lovell, the long absent prisoner, and whom they had all given up as lost to them for ever. He was always a favorite among them, and now as he landed, the air was rent with cheers of welcome. Warm and sincere were the congratulations of those weather-beaten seamen and fishermen. Not a hand that grasped William Lovell’s then, but would have gone far and willingly to have done him a service.
Let us now on board the Dolphin, and see how fares our heroine.
Burnet soon returned to his cabin, and entered into conversation with Fanny relative to her strange and almost unaccountable adventures. Fanny blushed through all the stain upon her face, to have Captain Burnet behold her in her male attire, for he said, as Lovell had done, that he never saw her look more interesting. Neither could hardly realize the fact of their former situation as friends, and their present relation to each other. It seemed like a dream, too wild and visionary to be true.
‘And were all thy questions and study on the evening that you told me of Lovell’s imprisonment in anticipation of all this?’
‘I thought it was singular that you should be so minute relative to those questions of navigation, and the course to steer for Cuba, with so many other questions.’
‘I proposed to myself at that time to do that which I have since accomplished, as far as taking the brig and releasing William is concerned.’
‘Thou art a most singular girl, Fanny.’
‘You have often told me so before now,’ she answered.
‘But I have never told thee how much I loved thee,’ said Burnet, with animation. ‘Thou hast proved thyself equal to any emergency. Why, Fanny, your story is a romance; no fairy tale could exceed it in extravagance, and yet it’s all true. You have liberated Lovell, let that content you. Now, Fanny Campbell, will you become my wife?’
‘Is this generous, Mr. Burnet? Am I not your prisoner?’
‘Nay, Fanny, I amthyprisoner; for in thy keeping rests my future happiness.’
Burnet, who had at first sought Fanny as a mere toy, as something that pleased his fancy, now really loved her, and would joyfully have made her his lawful wife. His standing and rank, with the large property he possessed, would entitle him to an alliance far above the sphere in which Fanny moved and was born; but the admiration of her heroism, and his former knowledge of her character, together with her beauty of person, had decided him, and he would gladly have laid all at her feet.
‘Mr. Burnet,’ said Fanny, ‘I have respected you, nay, have felt a sincere regard for you, but I can never love you as a wife should do. I have much, very much, to thank you for; you have acted very nobly towards me, having given me the advantage of your extensive information, have humored my every fancy, and have been more than a brother to me. You are high born, hold a captain’s commission from the King and are rich, honored and honorable; such a man deserves to be united to a woman who shall be entirely devoted to him, who can give him her undivided and whole love. Mr. Burnet, I am not that woman!’
‘Thou art an angel, nevertheless,’ murmured the captain, as he sank upon a chair, and hiding his face in his hands, he wept like a child.
‘Rouse, thee, Burnet,’ said Fanny, ‘the path of fame and glory are open before you. You have rank, opportunity, every necessary possession whereby to lead thee on to honor and distinction. Fanny’s prayers shall ever be raised for thee.’
He took her willing hand, and pressed it to his lips, saying:
‘Oh! each word you utter but shows me the more clearly what I have lost. Yes, you speak truly,’ said he, brushing a tear from his eye, ‘fame must be my future mistress; I can love no other.’
At this moment a light knock at the cabin door was heard, and the lieutenant of the Dolphin announced, as he had been instructed to do by the captain, that they were just passing into Boston harbor. The captain appearing on deck soon discovered that the King’s fleet had sailed, and that the American flag floated from the town. Observing this, he came to the very correct conclusion that the English army had evacuated the town during his cruise off the coast. The Dolphin was brought to anchor in the outer harbor, and the crew busied in refitting the vessel to enable her to follow the fleet, and also to await the coming up of the prize they had left to follow them. Burnet little thought of the possibility of her escape or recapture. A few hours serving to refit, Burnet determined to wait no longer for the prize, but to stand out to see and meet her.
Just as he had made up his mind to this purpose, the surgeon’s report was handed to him. He was prepared for a great loss as to the number of his crew, but not for so large a sacrifice as he now saw had been made; he looked into the matter personally and was exercised with not a little fear for his own reputation in being thus severely handled by an half-dozen men, commanded by a female. His feelings were still more harrowed by the examination that he then made into the state of the vessel under his charge.
As he passed among the wounded men, and heard their sighs and groans, his feelings were moved, and his mind excited beyond what he had experienced at any time, during, or since the commencement of the fight with the Constance. Burnet was somewhat nervous and excitable in his disposition, and he was now completely under the control of these influences. He scanned the horizon in the direction whence the prize was expected, and which should long since have made her appearance—but in vain; she was not to be seen, and though he felt somewhat uneasy about her, yet it never entered into his head that she might be retaken, the principal ground of his fears on the point, was, that he might possibly miss her in the night, and that if she should, unconscious of her danger, anchor in the harbor of Boston, why, she must inevitably fall again into the hands of the Colonists, and he would not have even a stick of timber to show for the fearful number of men he had lost in the late contest with the prize.
He did not dare to keep his present anchorage, for it was already evident that he was noticed, and a boat attack might be expected from the shore during the night, if he should attempt to wait for the arrival of his prize. He saw with his glass that preparations were already making for such a purpose, and he therefore resolved, as we have said, to sail, and if possible to meet the Constance, or perhaps lie-to off the harbor at a safe distance, until morning. Everything seemed to perplex and annoy him, and he was, indeed, hardly himself.
The night was dark, and settled coldly about the Dolphin. The lamp had been lit by a servant, in the cabin, and Fanny sat perusing a book that she had found upon the table, when Burnet entered. He looked like another being from him who had left her but a short time before. His disappointment at finding the city in the hands of the Colonists, his own prize not arriving, the surgeon’s report of the weak and disabled state of the crew, the disappointment of his affections, had all tended to bring on a morose and hardened state of feelings that showed, themselves at once in his countenance and manner.
‘Fanny,’ he said, approaching her familiarly, ‘I cannot part with you without some token of your kindness.’
‘Mr. Burnet,’ said Fanny, gazing upon him with astonishment.
‘Come, sit thee here,’ said he, drawing her familiarly towards a couch placed on one side of the cabin.
Fanny looked with the utmost astonishment upon him. She saw the cool deliberate villany of his face; she read, and translated aright the look of his eyes, and saw at once what her fate might be.
‘Mr. Burnet, release me,’ she said, struggling to free herself from the arm that encircled her waist. ‘I could not have dreamed this of one whom I have so much respected; nay, regarded like a brother.’
‘I tell thee, Fanny, I must have thy favor,’ said Burnet, still drawing her close to him.
‘Burnet,’ said Fanny, ‘Ibegof you to release me.’
‘By Heaven, I cannot,’ said Burnet, passionately.
‘Remember,’ said Fanny, still struggling with him, ‘remember I am yourprisoner—completely in your power. Nay, then,’ she continued, ‘though I am a woman, I am not a defenceless one!’
Exerting her whole strength, she sprang from him and reached the farther part of the cabin.
‘Keep thy distance,’ said Fanny, afraid to give any alarm lest she should expose herself to the crew of the Dolphin, and looking in every direction for escape; at length her eye brightened, as some thought seemed to strike her.
‘I bid thee fairly to keep thy distance,’ said Fanny, as he again approached her. ‘For I am able, and will defend myself!’
But Burnet again seized her, and endeavored to confine her hands. In the same instant her right arm was raised above her head, and descended quickly to the breast of Burnet, who immediately staggered back and fell upon the couch. Fanny gazed a moment upon him, locked the door of the cabin, then returning to the windows that looked out upon the sea, she climbed through one of them, and dropped herself silently into a boat that was attached to the stern, and cutting it loose, she quietly plied the oars. The tide fortunately favored her, and she was swiftly sailing towards the town, which she soon reached in safety.
Burnet’s wound was a severe one, and had nearly proved fatal; for Fanny’s dagger was sharp and pierced deep. His vessel sailed immediately for the New York rendezvous, where the rest of the fleet lay. Here he experienced a dangerous fever from his wound. But often did he thank Heaven in secret that himself, not Fanny had suffered. He deeply regretted the headlong spirit which had actuated him, and prompted the conduct he had displayed; it was deep and bitter disappointment. Now, as he recovered, he deeply regretted his conduct, and wrote to Fanny Campbell, stating this, and asking for her forgiveness. He told her too, that he should still love her as he had ever done since they first met.
We have said that Fanny was borne swiftly towards the town, when she left the Dolphin, and that she arrived safely there. She reached the shore, and seeking a conveyance, started for her home. That night she met friends, parents, lover, and all. There never was a happier meeting, you may believe us.
‘Did I not tell thee, wife,’ said the father, ‘that I had great confidence in Fanny, and that I would trust her where I would not older heads?’
‘Yes, and here is as good a plot for a novel as the Bay Province ever afforded, even in the times of the Indians or the French war.’
‘True, true; how blessed we are, to be sure; and to think that the girl should have dressed in man’s clothes, and deceived them all; even William himself for some time, and that was odd, though they had not seen each other for so long a time. Now if we had read that in a novel, we should have said that the author was telling a very improbable story; but here it is all true, and there is no getting away from it.’
‘Oh, she’s a wonderful girl, our Fanny; and William says all the crew loved her just like that Irishman in the other room, and he will have it that she is a saint, and no man at all. He doesn’t know of her disguise, and don’t suspect it either.’ Terrence Moony lay upon a comfortable bed in an adjoining room, not yet having recovered from a severe splinter wound, received in the last action on board the Constance; but he was in good hands, and fast recovering. To use his own words, it was worth while to git a sliver into his thigh once a year at laste, to git along so comfortably, and to be treated so kindly.’ The prisoners confined on board the vessels were conducted to Boston, and delivered up to the Commander-in-chief as prisoners of war. With them, William Lovell as the agent of Fanny, or as he was obliged to represent it at head-quarters, of Captain Channing, also delivered up a large amount of arms and ammunition, which had been taken from the enemy for the use enemy, and as a gift. A sufficient armament and ammunition was, however, retained to fit the brig for the purpose of a privateer, for it was his intent thus to appropriate her after obtaining letters of marque from Congress.
Some fears were entertained by Fanny and her family, touching the captures she had made, inasmuch as, strictly speaking, she had laid herself liable to the charge of piracy, and Fanny, in the eyes of the law, was actually a Female Pirate Captain. But there were none to prosecute such a charge, and if there had been, Captain Campbell could nowhere be found, for only her family knew the secret.
We have said that the prisoners were conducted to Boston. We should have excepted the mate of the second prize—the pardoned Englishman, who was admitted as a member of the Campbell family until a favorable opportunity should offer to ship for his home.
Terence Moony’s surprise at not being able to find his much loved captain after his recovery, was unbounded; but he accounted for the whole affair in his usual style, and which also proved perfectly satisfactory, at least to himself.
‘I always said the captain was a holy spirit,’ said Terrence, ‘so he was, and no man, after all. Sure hadn’t he done the job he came for, and what’s the use of his staying any longer? Though he might have jist given me a grip of the hand, and said good-bye to ye, Terrence Moony, my boy. Yes, it’s all clear to my mind that he came straight from hiven to help me to bury the old woman, and to liberate the Americans.’
‘He was quite agentlemanly spirit, Terence, wasn’t he?’ asked the Englishman to whom the above was addressed, and who had learned the secret by accident with regard to Fanny, but was bound by an oath to secrecy.
‘Look here, friend,’ said Terrence, clapping him on the shoulder, and looking round slyly to see if he was overheard by any one else, ‘I believe that spirit has gone into Mr. Lovell’s wife, for she’s so beautiful that it does my eyes good to look at her, and it so reminds me too, of the kindness and everything else about Captain Channing, as he was called, that divil take me if I didn’t find myself crying one day, when she was giving me gruel, when I was sick of this little scratch on the hip, and laying in that little chamber yonder.’
‘It was a pretty severe wound, Terence, and you bore it like a man, and no mistake,’ said his friend, the Englishman. ‘I have seen older men flinch under smaller ones and far less painful.’
‘Thank ye, though it was your friends that give it to me,’ said the Irishman. ‘Twas a pretty good job all round for us, aich man got two hundred dollars prize-money, saying nothing of the presents. To-morrow we all iv us ship again in the brig with a dozen to back us. Mrs. Lovell is going to stay with her husband, and I go as a sort of quarter-master, you know. Sure there can’t any harm come to the brig while that swate lady of the Captain’s aboord.’
‘I should hope not,’ said the Englishman, turning away thoughtfully.
‘Oh, there’s no hope aboot it, it’s sure,’ said Terrence.
We may state here that the Englishman reached his home and family within the twelve months.
Thus it was, and the good brig Constance, now the ‘Fanny,’ (so had Lovell named her in honor of his wife,) was refitted and fully manned, and Lovell was her captain. Fanny, by her own solicitations, was permitted to accompany him, and she was not only his companion, but counsellor also, in many a hard-fought contest. The Fanny took several valuable prizes, and fortunately escaped herself without any serious damage. Thus at the time of the declaration of peace, the value of the prizes taken, and the money judiciously invested, afforded a handsome competency, upon which Lovell and his noble wife retired for a while to enjoy the sweets of domestic happiness.
PEACE, YACHTING FOR PLEASURE, THE FAIRY BARQUE VISION ITS APPOINTMENTS AND FURNITURE. VISITING PLACES OF OLD REMEMBRANCES. THE ISLE OF MAN AND THE IRISH SEA. FANNY AND LOVELL LISTEN TO FORECASTLE YARNS THAT WILL INTEREST THE READER, ABOUT THIS RENDEZVOUS FOR THE RENOWNED FREEBOOTERS OF ENGLAND AND THE CONTINENT. AN EXCURSION PLANNED UPON THE LAND.
Peace came with all its smiles and drove away the grim spirit of war that had so long scowled upon the colonies of North America, now acknowledged free and an independant nation. The bond was severed, the child sprang at once to the estate of manhood and to all its responsibilities and cares; but it was under the divine guardianship of the spirit of peace and the especial guidance of Freedom herself; with such patrons she was sure to prosper, and how she has prospered, let the present state of the Union bear testimony. Let the twenty millions of freemen who now people the land speak. From a tender plant as it were, we have grown to a large and powerful oak whose branches are spread far and near, and under whose shadowing protection millions may shelter.
We may say peace with all its smiles had come again; Fanny and her husband were settled in domestic enjoyment, and thrice happy were they in the love of each other, a love which had been proved in storms and in calms, in peace and in strife. Habit, how strong a hold does it take upon our very natures; how unseen yet sure is the progress it gradually makes in binding us to its ways, and how certain is it of its final success in bringing us, either for good or for evil, to its supreme and indisputable will. Fanny, who had tasted the excitement of a life at sea, who had dwelt upon its breast as a home for many months, had imbibed, as the sailor seems always to do, an ardent love for it. This feeling was reflected in the breast of her husband, for William Lovell was in every sense of the word a sailor, and he too pined for the excitement he had been accustomed to.
‘William,’ said Fanny one fine evening as they sat by their own hearth, ‘I think we might love each other just as well were we to be on the element we have both proved so successful upon.’
‘I see no reason to the contrary, Fanny,’ said Lovell.
‘Then let us once more to sea, husband, if it be only to take a farewell cruise upon the domain of old hoary Neptune.’
‘With all my heart.’
‘And when shall it be?’
‘At as early a day as you please.’
‘Oh, this will be very fine, no enemy to look out for now, but I have got so well used to that, I don’t know that I should regret if there was.’
‘How shall we go, Fanny?’
‘It must be in a craft of our own, for I would go just where it may seem pleasant to us.’
‘True, we must obtain a yacht.’
‘Let it be a small one, such as can be worked by a few hands, William; we’ll be our own masters.’
‘So it shall be.’
‘You know the kind of craft I love; I’d have her as tidy as a lady on Sunday and as delicately sparred as any pleasure boat; trust to our judgment for safety.’
‘I’ll get you one that shall be a very pet for its beauty.’
It was resolved upon thus, that they should again take a cruise upon the sea; some six years had intervened since they had left their maritime life, and long and often had they thought with a wish to return to it again, of their life upon the ocean, but never had they spoken of the matter before William Lovell set himself forthwith about the proper arrangements to supply a beautiful pleasure yacht for the object, and as he was in no way short or wanting in the means, this was easily accomplished. A little fairy like cutter was provided, that sat like a bird upon the water, and that made its way almost as swiftly through its native element as the bird might in its own. There are few objects of more beauty than a handsome vessel. One of about two hundred tons burden can be made so as to combine all the grace and beauty of formation and every needy comfort, without being too bulky or heavy for light and gentle Zephyrs to fan along the sea, or so large as to look unwieldly and cumbersome.
This was just the tonnage of Fanny’s yacht, and she called it ‘The Vision,’ so fairy like and pretty was it in every point.—The rig was somewhat picturesque, and combined in some respects the odd, yet graceful and peculiar rig of the Mediterranean sea with the more natural and reliable arrangements of our own waters. She showed at once what her character was, a pleasure boat, and she was in every sense of the word one to take pleasure in. She was a topsail schooner rig, with certain additions of the peculiar character which we have mentioned. The Vision was stored with every luxury that the wealth of Lovell could, procure, and every accommodation prepared for her who was to be its Mistress. Couches and cushions, with rich and graceful hangings, were as profusely arranged, and as in good taste as in her parlors at home. The larder was well cared for, and such shipped, including that honest fellow Terrence Moony, as were chosen in person by Fanny for their orderly habits and experience. Thus equipped, the Vision sailed out of Lynn harbor one fine day for parts unknown.
The ocean is the place for excitement—there is no monotony there, but change enough; the moment you trust yourself upon its breast you become an adventurer, and your experience will commence. You have the storm to contend with, and happy are you if you master it in room of becoming its victim. You have tides and currents to watch, winds to trim your sails to, and not unfrequently some daring rover to repel. All these are vicissitudes of the ocean, and how deeply attached will the mariner become to the fickle element, even as Fanny and her husband.
The mild, tropical seas of the West Indies were visited, the Moro Castle once more looked upon, the old anchorage without the harbor once more assumed, and the very prison within whose walls Lovell had been confined was visited, each drawing forth fresh interest and an increased desire for exploration.
After revictualing their fairy craft, the Vision was steered boldly across the great ocean to the North East, nor furled sail until she dropped anchor at Gibralter. From thence she entered that great inland sea the Mediterranean. They visited its ports and ancient spots of renown and interest, roamed together in that classic land of generous nature, soft, sunny Italy and thus together whiled away many a month of pleasant occupation.
Not a little admiration was elicited by the appearance of the American pleasure yacht in those distant seas. Compared to the large cumbersome vessels that navigated the waters about her, she looked but a mean cockle shell, a bird. She spread a large extent of canvass, which, projecting over her low and graceful hull, hid it mostly from sight when she was under way.
Like a diamond in a broach, the Isle of Man is set in the very midst of the Irish Sea midway between the bold shores of England, Scotland, and Ireland. It is a gem of an Island, and even in the days of which we write, it boasted of one or two as fine castles and ancient estates, as the oldest part of England itself. It was at this time, not dependant on any of the surrounding powers but appeared to be neutral ground where each and all might meet in amnesty; nor was it until a comparatively late date that it came completely within the power and possession of the crown of England, to which it now belongs. It was a romantic spot in those days, being the resort of the most daring smugglers and freebooters of the times. The inducements for smuggling from this well known spot were great, and gave employment to a few hardy and daring spirits, whose large profits in their perilous trade, more than compensated them for the continued risk they encountered in their nightly voyages from the Island to the banks of the Solway, where the contrabandists generally landed their goods.
Here too, peace and time have worked almost a miracle. At this day, the spot once the rendezvous for freebooters, has become a place of no small commercial importance, forming a military and naval depot for the crowded ranks and numerous flats of the British army and navy. Its productive soil and highly cultivated lands, its neat cottages and admirable roads, are a picture of modern improvement. From the highest point of this Island of the Irish sea, in clear weather the visitor has a view of the three united Kingdoms of Great Britain. The Vision had run down the coast, and desiring to see this far-famed spot, she was steered to its western side, and now lay at anchor in one of its quiet bays.
It was a clear moonlight night—Lovell sat inhaling the flavor of his segar upon the deck; near to him sat Fanny engaged in contemplating the beautiful scenery about them, lit up as it was by the silver smiles of the moon. The Vision gently rose and fell on the swells of the Irish sea as it rode at anchor.
Suddenly the voices of the crew, some eight fine, active fellows, were heard aft speaking together. Lovell heard them propose to one of their number to spin a yarn, which he acceded to.
‘Wife,’ said he to Fanny, ‘let us draw forward and hear the yarn, it will while away the hour.’
‘With all my heart, William.’
The two brought their deck stools further forward, and seating themselves listened to the following yarn. It was told by an old weather beaten mariner who had evidently seen much of salt water, and who possessed no small degree of intellect.
‘Come, Sky Scraper,’ said one, ‘go ahead, all clear’ The crew called him thus, from his being much taller in height than his companions, a man of about six feet.
‘Ay, ay, messmates,’ said he first replenishing his quid.
Sky Scraper after a few preliminary haws and hems, at length commenced. We do not give his precise language, which was so interspersed with nautical illustrations and language, that should we do so, the reader would be unable to understand it.’
‘Well, messmates, you see our laying here just now, with the moon looking out upon us, and this cove and the land hereaway, and the number of bells we count just now—all these have brought to my memory the days when I used to sail from this very anchorage night after night for the Solway, in as staunch a vessel as ever walked the sea. A real snorter was the saucy little Dolphin, I can tell you, messmates.
‘Well d’ye see—it might have been just such a night as this, and so it was, and we lay just here where the land tackle of the Vision now holds, at just about this hour somewhere about the year 1772. It was a three masted lugger, the Dolphin, and she was one of the sweetest things that ever floated, always saving the Vision,’ said the old tar, tipping his tarpaulin in honor of the little craft in which he sailed. ‘She was about a hundred and fifty tons burthen, and sat low and deep in the water. She was painted black, and about her waist ran a single streak of white, broken in both sides by a couple of ports. Our captain was a noble fellow and I remember how he looked as he walked the quarter deck that night. He was rather below the common size, messmates, yet he looked the captain all over. He wore a broad belt about his waist, in which he always wore a couple of boarding pistols, and a short cut and thrust sword.
‘“Unmoor ship,” said the captain through his trumpet.
‘Fifty as fine fellows as ever handled a marlinspike, sprang to execute the order while the boatswain’s whistle rang out on the still night air, and the captain walked the quarter deck.
‘“We are brought to, sir,” says the first Luff to the captain.
‘“Heave round, sir. Heave and pull,” said the captain, for everything aboard was done regular man of war fashion.
‘The anchor was raised and stored, the wide wings that a lugger always carries were spread one by one, and the sweet little craft bending gracefully, like a coquette mincing before her lover, took her course under a cloud of canvass for the Solway.
‘I was quarter gunner, and my place was pretty near the quarter deck, and I heard the captain say, just after we round-ded the mouth of the cove hereaway, to his second officer:
‘“Mr. Merrick,” that was the Luff’s name.
‘“Mr. Merrick,” said the captain, “I think we are likely to have trouble on this night’s trip. I understand from my agents that intelligence has been lodged relative to the character of our swift-footed craft, and I fear there has been treachery on board the Dolphin.”
‘“I hardly believe that, captain,” said the Luff, “though the men have had liberty enough on shore.” And so we had, to be sure, having most of us been up to Carlisle and Keswick.
‘“They know the rules of the ship, Mr. Merrick,” said the captain, “and how treachery will be rewarded. Let the crew sleep with one eye open, sir, we may have work for them to do.”
‘The watch was set on deck, and I was among them; the rest turned in, all standing ready for immediate service. Our cargo was contraband, and a valuable one, and the captain’s object was to land it safely during the night, and return again from the main land to the island before morning.
‘Well, messmates, you see the lugger held on her course ‘till rounding the Northern point of the Island, when the captain, who had not yet left the deck, discovered off the star board bow a vessel whose indistinct outlines could hardly be made out in the distance, being half shut in by the night fog; but we soon made her out to be a small sloop of war under easy sail. The course of the Dolphin was changed one or two points more northerly in order to keep the sail at such a distance, if possible, that she might not discover us. This was easy enough, for do ye see, the lugger was a mighty little thing compared with the sloop, and then too, there was’nt much of a watch kept on her deck, I reckon. Our captain said it was earlier than they expected us, and so we got off safely, keeping everything snug and still.
‘“Mr. Merrick,” said the Capt., after he had got fairly away, and it was not necessary to keep quiet any longer, “Mr. Merrick, pipe all hands to quarters. I have a few words to say to them.”
‘It was’nt much use to pipe the crew up, seeing they were almost all on deck at the time. For as soon as they knew there was a strange sail in sight they tumbled up to get a look at her, thinking perhaps we might have a brush with them: Well, we were piped to quarters, and all was as still as death—each little crew was at its gun, and at last the captain spoke up.
‘“My lads,” said he, that’s the way he always used to speak to us, “My lads, most of you saw that strange sail we passed within the hour. Do you know that nothing save treachery could have placed her there, in the direct track of the Dolphin’s night course? speak up some of you.”
‘“It does look mighty suspicious, your honor,” said I, “but shiver my timbers, if I believe we have got anybody shipped aboard this ere craft but loves the saucy Dolphin and your honor too well to play them a scurvy trick.”
‘“There has been treachery,” said he, “is there one of my crew that can tell its penalty?”
‘“Death at the yard arm,” said the crew, shrinking before the eye of the captain, for he used to look a man right through.
‘“It is my duty,” said the captain, “to watch your interests and my own, with a jealous eye. I never deceive you, my men; the traitor shall receive his punishment though I pursue him to the foot of the throne. Enough—now to your duty.” ‘We soon reached the shores of the Solway, and a few hours were enough to land our cargo with such ready and willing hands as we had to do it with, and the whole freight was soon on its way inland, far out of the reach of those land sharks, the Revenue officers.
‘But the greatest danger was yet to come, messmates, for do you see, though the cargo was landed, the lugger must, somehow, gain the shelter of the little cove where we now lay. The moon did seem to shine out twice as strong as ever, as if just to bother us; because, do ye see, if it hadn’t been so very light, the night mist that always hangs about the sea and shores here, would have hid us from the enemy. But hardly had the lugger got under weigh, before the cruiser was again discovered, lying nearly mid-way between the English and Irish coast, in the very course that the Dolphin must steer. The captain of our lugger was calm and collected as a parson, and the men, seeing this, were all quite courageous, too, and didn’t care a fig for the King’s ship. We were now fast nearing each other, when suddenly a hail came across the sea:—
‘“What vessel is that?”
‘Our captain knew that all the time he could gain was worth so much gold to us, for he had got to run the gauntlet of the cruiser’s broad side, and thereby all he gained before she commenced to fire, was so many lives saved, very likely, on board the lugger. So to gain time he mumbled back a reply to the hail that could not be understood, but, to all appearance, in in good faith. Well, you see, this was no go, only to save time, as I said, so the sloop hailed again.
‘“What answer do you make?”
‘We were going through the water at a ten-knot rate, and had already got nearly abreast of the cruiser, who, having tacked, now stood on the same course as ourselves.
‘“What vessel is that?” said the commander of the sloop—“answer, or I shall fire into you?”
‘No answer was made to this hail, and a gun from the cruiser which sent a shot through the mainsail of our lugger, showed that she was in earnest. In answer to this, our captain aimed our heavy gun amidship with his own hands, and the ball shot away the fore topmast of the York, so the cruiser was named. A fierce broadside from the cruiser was the reply to the shot, and sad havoc did it make among the light and beautiful spars and rigging of the Dolphin. Our armament was made up of only four small pieces and a heavy gun amidship, revolving on a pivot, and this was of heavier metal than any gun on board of the York. Our captain managed this gun and aimed it himself, and he soon brought down the foremast of the York by his shot, confounding the crew of the enemy, and bothering them about their guns. The York carried sixteen guns with a complement of about an hundred men. She was now unable for some time to return our fire, because the foremast had tumbled in board with most of its hamper along the larboard battery where we lay, and the way we peppered them in the mean time wasn’t slow.
‘We were both so cut up in our rigging as to make but little headway, and we were now rising and falling on the swells of the sea, close aboard of each other. Several of our heavy shots had struck the York about the water line, and large numbers of her crew were engaged pumping her out, for she leaked out very fast. About this time our captain discovered one of our foremast hands on board the enemy, and the secret was all out in a minute; the truth came to us all at once, the treachery was accounted for, and there stood the traitor. The grapnel irons were thrown, and our boarders piped away. A few words from the captain told the story to us all, and heading us himself, we all rushed up the cruiser’s side.
‘“Secure that traitor, and back to the lugger every one of you,” said the captain, while he fought a path towards where the man stood. It takes some time to tell this, messmates, but it was all done mighty quick, I can tell you, in less time than it takes me to spin this part of the yarn.
‘Well, you see, we were soon back again on our own deck, because the cruiser was too strong for us to take, and if we had got her, it would have done us no good, for we could not have managed her in our business. The Dolphin was worth two of her for our purpose. So as soon as we got on the lugger’s deck, while the enemy were still confounded at our boarding, our captain backed his topsails, while the York’s remained full, and the breeze freshening just then, the two crafts separated. As we fell astern of the enemy, we gave him one raking shot with our big gun loaded with grape and small shot, which sent more than one poor fellow to his last home, and scattered the splinters like snow flakes.
‘We steered straight for this cove here on the west side, cut up sadly in hull and rigging by our brush with the King’s cruiser, while she made the nearest land on the English side, and run on shore in a sinking condition, so fast did she leak from our shot.
‘Well, it was not long before we were back again, laying at our anchorage, and soon the boatswain’s whistle summoned us, just at nightfall the next day, most unwelcomely.
‘“All hands to witness punishment, ahoy.”
‘The man who had betrayed us, had confessed his guilt, the payment of his treachery was found on his person. The crew were all at their stations, all save six seamen chosen by lot, who stood apart from their companions; these were to be the executioners of their messmate. The ship was as still as death; the wounded below had hushed their groans, and the tick of the captain’s watch might be heard at any part of the quarter deck. The miserable man who was now to suffer, stood upon a gun, his arms confined behind him, and a rope around his neck. The rope was rove through a block at the end of the fore yard arm, and reaching down to the deck again, the other end was placed in the hands of the six men chosen by lot.
‘Our captain looked at the arrangements, and after a few moments, we all the time expecting the word to swing him off, he said:—
‘“My men, next to mutiny I know of no blacker or more accursed crime than treachery. That man has betrayed us—may Heaven forgive him, as I do now. He was seduced from his duty in an evil hour, while under the effects of liquor; he is now penitent, and you will see how bravely he will die—you have had related to you all the peculiarities of the case, which, I think, has many extenuating points; you are his jurors—shall he die? Shall we send your old messmate into eternity? Speak, my men!”
‘“No, no!” said the crew, with one voice; “if the captain forgives him, that’s enough. Let him be spared.”
‘“Blow me,” thought I, “if I don’t think a man who would betray such a commander and such a ship, must find punishment enough in overhauling the log of his own conscience, without our sending him to soundings after this fashion.”
‘The man was forgiven, and, damme, messmates, if he didn’t feel it, too,’ said Skyscraper, with no little degree of feeling.
‘Well, you see, the captain knew very well that this last fight with a King’s cruiser must put a stop to our game, so we run down to the French coast, and the pretty little Dolphin was sold to the Mounsers for a pretty round sum, which was equally divided among us all. Well, now you see, I happen to know something about our captain after that, though I never sailed with him again. He loved the sea, and so went to London and engaged as captain in the West India trade, and in a few years he settled in America.
‘Well, you see, messmates, he was a Scotchman by birth, and didn’t owe any great love to England, so, on the breaking out of the long war that is but lately fairly ended, he offered his services to the Continental Congress, whose cause he espoused. He was soon appointed captain of a noble vessel, the first in the American navy. With this vessel, and others with which he was entrusted as commander, he gained some most brilliant naval victories. And let me tell you, messmates, through his whole service he had one faithful follower who would never quit him, and whose protecting arm twice saved his life in the memorable battle of the Bon Homme Richard and the Serapis, the former of which our old captain commanded. Now, messmates, that man was the pardoned criminal of the Dolphin Lugger.
‘Of the captain—Congress passed a vote of thanks to him for his services, and conferred upon him the highest rank in his profession, within its gift, and his name will long be remembered by the nation in its future prosperity.
‘Why, Sky Scraper, who the deuce was this captain?’ asked one.
‘Aye, what’s his name?’ put in several at the same time.
‘I’ll tell you, messmates,’ said the old tar, reverently uncovering his head as he mentioned the name; ‘it was Admiral JOHN PAUL JONES!’
Fanny and her husband had heard this chapter in the life of the great naval hero with no small emotion. There was a point involved in it which nearly touched their own feelings, and the circumstances relative to the pardoned Englishman on board her own brig the Constance, were brought strongly to her mind.
A drive upon the island was arranged for the coming day. Lovell and his wife having promised themselves this pleasure for several days previous.