Famous Privateersmen AND ADVENTURERS OF THE SEA

 Their rovings, cruises, escapades, and fierce battling upon the ocean for patriotism and for treasure

 By

 CHARLES H. L. JOHNSTON

 Author of "Famous Cavalry Leaders, " "Famous Indian Chiefs, " "Famous Scouts, " etc. 

 Illustrated

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 BOSTON THE PAGE COMPANY PUBLISHERS

 FAMOUS LEADERS SERIES BY CHARLES H. L. JOHNSTON

 Each one volume, large 12mo, illustrated, $1. 50

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 FAMOUS CAVALRY LEADERS FAMOUS INDIAN CHIEFS FAMOUS SCOUTS FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN FAMOUS FRONTIERSMEN

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 THE PAGE COMPANY 53 Beacon Street, Boston, Mass. 

[Illustration: From "The Army and Navy of the United States. " "AGAIN THE CANNON MADE THE SPLINTERS FLY. " (_See page 273. _)]

 _Copyright, 1911, _ BY L. C. PAGE & COMPANY (INCORPORATED)

 _All rights reserved_

 First Impression, November, 1911 Second Impression, November, 1914

 THE COLONIAL PRESS C. H. SIMONDS CO. , BOSTON, U. S. A. 

 I DEDICATE THIS BOOK TO THE HAPPY MEMORY OF

 George Alfred Henty

 THE MOST STIMULATING AUTHOR OF BOOKS FOR BOYS THAT THE PAST HALF CENTURY HAS PRODUCED, AND A WRITER WHO HAS KEPT ALIVE THE SPIRIT OF MANLY SPORT AND ADVENTURE WHICH HAS MADE THE ANGLO-SAXON PEOPLE A RACE OF WORLD CONQUERORS. MAY THEY NEVER RETROGRADE!

_Thanks are due the Librarian of Congress, and particularly to Mr. Roberts of the Department of Prints, for numerous courtesies extendedto the author during the compilation of this volume. _

PREFACE

MY DEAR BOYS:--The sea stretches away from the land, --a vast sheet ofunknown possibilities. Now gray, now blue, now slate colored, whippedinto a thousand windrows by the storm, churned into a seething mass offrothing spume and careening bubbles, it pleases, lulls, thenterrorizes and dismays. Perpetually intervening as a barrier betweenpeoples and their countries, the wild, sobbing ocean rises, falls androars in agony. It is a stoppage to progress and contact between racesof men and warring nations. 

In the breasts of all souls slumbers the fire of adventure. Topenetrate the unknown, to there find excitement, battle, treasure, sothat one's future life can be one of ease and indolence--for this menhave sacrificed the more stable occupations on land in order to pushrecklessly across the death-dealing billows. They have battled withthe elements; they have suffered dread diseases; they have beentormented with thirst; with a torrid sun and with strange weather;they have sorrowed and they have sinned in order to gain fame, fortune, and renown. On the wide sweep of the ocean, even as on therolling plateau of the once uninhabited prairie, many a harrowingtragedy has been enacted. These dramas have often had nochronicler, --the battle was fought out in the silence of the waterywaste, and there has been no tongue to tell of the solitary conflictand the unseen strife. 

Of sea fighters there have been many: the pirate, the fillibusterer, the man-of-warsman, and the privateer. The first was primarily aruffian and, secondarily, a brute, although now and again there werepirates who shone by contrast only. The fillibusterer was also engagedin lawless fighting on the sea and to this service were attracted themore daring and adventurous souls who swarmed about the shipping portsin search of employment and pelf. The man-of-warsman was thelegitimate defender of his country's interests and fought in the open, without fear of death or imprisonment from his own people. Theprivateersman--a combination of all three--was the harpy of therolling ocean, a vulture preying upon the merchant marine of the enemyto his country, attacking only those weaker than himself, scudding offat the advent of men-of-warsmen, and hovering where the guilelessmerchantman passed by. The privateersman was a gentleman adventurer, aprotected pirate, a social highwayman of the waters. He throve, grewlusty, and prospered, --a robber legitimized by the laws of his ownpeople. 

So these hardy men went out upon the water, sailed forth beneath thewhite spread of new-made canvas, and, midst the creaking of spars, theslapping of ropes, the scream of the hawser, the groan of thewindlass, and the ruck and roar of wave-beaten wood, carved out theirdestinies. They fought. They bled. They conquered and were defeated. In the hot struggle and the desperate attack they played their partseven as the old Vikings of Norway and the sea rovers of theMediterranean. 

Hark to the stories of those wild sea robbers! Listen to the tales ofthe adventurous pillagers of the rolling ocean! And--as your blood isred and you, yourself, are fond of adventure--ponder upon thesehistories with satisfaction, for these stalwart seamen

 "Fought and sailed and took a prize Even as it was their right, Drank a glass and kissed a maid Between the volleys of a fight. _Don't_ begrudge their lives of danger, _You_ are better off by far, But, if war again comes, --stranger, Hitch _your_ wagon to their star. "

 CHARLES H. L. JOHNSTON. 

 The bugle calls to quarters, The roar of guns is clear, Now--ram your charges home, Lads! And cheer, Boys! Cheer!

CONTENTS

 PAGE PREFACE vii

 CARLO ZENO: HERO OF THE VENETIAN REPUBLIC 1

 SIR FRANCIS DRAKE: ROVER AND SEA RANGER 23

 SIR WALTER RALEIGH: PERSECUTOR OF THE SPANIARDS 53

 JEAN BART: THE SCOURGE OF THE DUTCH 83

 DU GUAY-TROUIN: THE GREAT FRENCH "BLUE" 113

 EDWARD ENGLAND: TERROR OF THE SOUTH SEAS 137

 WOODES ROGERS: THE BRISTOL MARINER 153

 FORTUNATUS WRIGHT: THE MOST HATED PRIVATEERSMAN OF THE MEDITERRANEAN SEA 173

 GEORGE WALKER: WINNER OF THE GAMEST SEA FIGHT OF THE ENGLISH CHANNEL 199

 JOHN PAUL JONES: THE FOUNDER OF THE AMERICAN NAVY 239

 CAPTAIN SILAS TALBOT: STAUNCH PRIVATEERSMAN OF NEW ENGLAND 283

 CAPTAIN "JOSH" BARNEY: THE IRREPRESSIBLE YANKEE 299

 ROBERT SURCOUF: THE "SEA HOUND" FROM ST. MALO 319

 LAFITTE: PRIVATEER, PIRATE, AND TERROR OF THE GULF OF MEXICO 341

 RAPHAEL SEMMES: DESPOILER OF AMERICAN COMMERCE 373

 EL CAPITAN 393

 RETROSPECT 397

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

 PAGE "AGAIN THE CANNON MADE THE SPLINTERS FLY" (_See page 273_) _Frontispiece_

 ZENO'S FLEET 18

 SIR FRANCIS DRAKE 28

 DRAKE'S GREATEST VICTORY ON THE SPANISH MAIN 44

 YOUNG RALEIGH AND A COMPANION LISTENING TO TALES OF THE SPANISH MAIN 55

 SIR WALTER RALEIGH 60

 JEAN BART 86

 "JEAN BART LED HIS BOARDERS OVER THE SIDE OF THE DUTCH VESSEL" 108

 COMBAT BETWEEN DU GUAY-TROUIN AND VAN WASSENAER 135

 "'LEFT US ENGAGED WITH BARBAROUS AND INHUMAN ENEMIES'" 146

 "THE BOARDERS WERE REPULSED WITH GREAT SLAUGHTER" 193

 ACTION BETWEEN THE "GLORIOSO" AND THE "KING GEORGE" AND "PRINCE FREDERICK" UNDER GEORGE WALKER 231

 AMERICAN PRIVATEER TAKING POSSESSION OF A PRIZE 239

 "BEGAN TO HULL THE 'DRAKE' BELOW THE WATER-LINE" 261

 "THEY SWARMED INTO THE FORECASTLE AMIDST FIERCE CHEERS" 277

 "TALBOT, HIMSELF, AT THE HEAD OF HIS ENTIRE CREW, CAME LEAPING ACROSS THE SIDE" 289

 AMERICAN PRIVATEER CAPTURING TWO ENGLISH SHIPS 298

 "SURCOUF SCANNED HER CAREFULLY THROUGH HIS GLASS" 336

 RAPHAEL SEMMES 376

 "THE MEN WERE SHOUTING WILDLY, AS EACH PROJECTILE TOOK EFFECT" 386

CARLO ZENO

HERO OF THE VENETIAN REPUBLIC

(1344-1418)

 "Paradise is under the shadow of swords. "--MAHOMET. 

CARLO ZENO

HERO OF THE VENETIAN REPUBLIC

(1344-1418)

 Zeno, noble Zeno, with your curious canine name, You shall never lack for plaudits in the golden hall of fame, For you fought as well with galleys as you did with burly men, And your deeds of daring seamanship are writ by many a pen. From sodden, gray Chioggia the singing Gondoliers, Repeat in silvery cadence the story of your years, The valor of your comrades and the courage of your foe, When Venice strove with Genoa, full many a year ago. 

The torches fluttered from the walls of a burial vault in ancientVenice. Two shrouded figures leaned over the body of a dead warrior, and, as they gazed upon the wax-like features, their eyes were filledwith tears. 

"See, " said the taller fellow. "He has indeed led the stalwart life. Here are five and thirty wounds upon the body of our most renownedcompatriot. He was a true hero. "

"You speak correctly, O Knight, " answered the other. "Carlo Zeno wasthe real warrior without fear and without reproach. He has faredbadly at the hands of the Republic. But then, --is this not life? Thosemost worthy seem never to receive their just compensation during theirliving hours. It is only when they are dead that a tardy public givesthem some recognition of the great deeds which they have done, thebattles which they have fought, and the honor which they have broughtto their native land. Alas! poor Zeno! He--the true patriot--has hadbut scant and petty praise. "

So saying the two noble Venetians covered the prostrate form of thedead warrior--for they had lifted the brown robe which enshroudedhim--and, with slow faltering steps, they left the gloomy chamber ofdeath. 

Who was this Venetian soldier, who, covered with the marks of battle, lay in his last sleep? Who--this hero of war's alarms? This patrioticleader of the rough-and-ready rovers of the sea?

It was Carlo Zeno, --a man of the best blood of Venice, --who, commanding fighting men and fighting ships, had battled strenuouslyand well for his native country. 

The son of Pietro Zeno and Agnese Dandolo, this famous Venetian hadbeen well bred to the shock of battle, for his father was for sometime Governor of Padua, and had won a great struggle against theTurks, when the careening galleys of the Venetian Squadron grappledblindly with the aggressive men of the Ottoman Empire. There were tenchildren in the family and little Carlo was named after the EmperorCharles IV, who sent a retainer to the baptism of the future seaman, saying, "I wish the child well. He has a brave and noble father and Itrust that his future will be auspicious. "

Little Carlo was destined for the Church, and, with a Latin eulogiumin his pocket (which his Venetian school-master had written out forhim) was sent to the court of the Pope at Avignon. The sweet-faced boywas but seven years of age. He knelt before the prelate and hisretainers, reciting the piece of prose with such precision, grace, andcharm, that all were moved by his beauty, his memory, his spirit, andhis liveliness of person. 

"You are indeed a noble youth, " cried the Pope. "You shall come intomy household. There you shall receive an education and shall be acanon of the cathedral of Patras, with a rich benefice. "

But little Carlo did not remain. Although dressed like a mimic priestand taught with great care, the hot blood of youth welled in his veinsand made him long for a life more active and more dangerous. So helooked about for adventure so thoroughly that he was soon able to havehis first narrow escape, and a part in one of those many brawls whichwere to come to him during his career of war and adventure. 

Sent by his relations to the University of Padua, he was returning toVenice from the country, one day, when a man leaped upon him as hewalked down a narrow road. 

"Who are you?" cried Carlo fearfully. 

But the fellow did not answer. Instead, --he struck him suddenly witha stout cudgel--knocked him senseless on the turf, took all thevaluables which he had, and ran silently away into the gloom. 

Little Carlo came to his senses after many hours, and, staggeringforward with weakened steps, reached Mestre, where kind friendsdressed his wounds. 

"I shall catch this assailant, " cried he, when he had revived. "Heshall rue the day that he ever touched the person of Carlo Zeno. " Andforthwith he secured a number of bloodhounds with which to track thecowardly ruffian of the highway. 

Luck was with the future commander of the galleons and fighting men. Heran the scurvy assailant to earth, like a fox. He captured him, boundhim and handed him over to the justice of Padua, --where--for theheinousness of the offense--the man was executed. So ended the firstconflict in which the renowned Carlo Zeno was engaged, --successfully--asdid most of his later battles. 

Not long afterwards young Zeno returned to his studies at theUniversity, but here--as a lover of excitement--he fell into badcompany. Alas! he took to gambling, and frittered away all of hisready money, so that he had to sell his books in order to play. Theprofit from these was soon gone. He was bankrupt at the early age ofseventeen. 

Ashamed to go home, the future sea rover disappeared from Padua andjoined a fighting band of mercenaries (paid soldiers) who were in theemploy of a wealthy Italian Prince. He was not heard of for full fiveyears. Thus, his relatives gave him up for dead, and, when--oneday--he suddenly stalked into the house of his parents, his brothersand sisters set up a great shout of wonder and amazement. "Hurrah!"cried they, "the dead has returned to his own. This is no ghost, forhe speaks our own native tongue. Carlo Zeno, you shall be given thebest that we have, for we believed that you had gone to anotherworld. "

Pleased and overwhelmed with affection, young Carlo stayed for a timewith his family, and then--thinking that, as he had been trained forthe priesthood, he had best take charge of his canonry of Patras--hewent to Greece. 

"Hah! my fine fellow, " said the Governor, when he first saw him, "Ihear that you are fond of fighting. It is well. The Turks are verytroublesome, just now, and they need some stout Venetian blood to holdthem in check. You must assist us. "

"I'll do my best, " cried Zeno with spirit, and, he had not been therea week before the Ottomans swooped down upon the city, bent upon itsdemolition. The young Venetian sallied forth--with numerous fightingmen--to meet them, and, in the first clash of arms, received such agaping wound that he was given up for dead. In fact, when carried tothe city, he was considered to be without life, was stretched upon along settee, was clothed in a white sheet, and prepared for interment. But in the early morning he suddenly opened his eyes, gazedwonderingly at the white shroud which covered him, and cried, with noill humor, "Not yet, my friends. Carlo Zeno will disappoint all your fondesthopes. Once more I am of the world. "

And, so saying, he scrambled to his feet, much to the dismay of thesorrowing Venetians, who had been carefully spreading a number offlowers upon the prostrate form of the supposedly dead warrior. 

But so weak was the youthful hero that he had to be taken to Venice inorder to recover. When strong again he resumed his studies for theministry and was sent to Patras, a city that was soon threatened by anarmy of twelve thousand Cypriotes and Frenchmen. 

"Here, Zeno, " cried the Bishop of Patras to the virile youngstripling. "We have seven hundred riders in our city. With this merehandful, you must defend us against our enemies. The odds are fifteento one against you. But you must struggle valiantly to save ourbeautiful capital. "

"Aye! Sire!" cried the youthful student of church history. "I shall domy best to free your capital from these invaders. May the God of Hostsbe with us! My men salute you. "

So saying the valiant youth led his small and ill drilled companyagainst the besiegers, and, so greatly did he harass his adversaries, that they abandoned the enterprise, at the end of six months; madepeace; and retired. 

"Hail to Zeno!" cried many of the soldiers. "He is a leader well worthour respect. Without him the great city would have surely fallen. Yea!Hail to young Zeno. "

These words of praise reached the ears of a certain Greek Knightnamed Simon, and so roused his envy, that he audaciously accused Carloof treachery, which was soon told to the hot-headed young warrior. Heacted as one would well expect of him. 

"I challenge you to single combat, " cried he. "The duel shall befought in Naples under the eye of Queen Johanna. "

In vain Carlo's friends besought him to forgive the loose-tonguedSimon--his patron, the Bishop, exhausted his eloquence in the endeavorto reconcile the two. The hot blood of youth would out. It was fightand no compromise. But before the trial, the bold and unyieldingsoldier threw up his position with the Church and married a rich andnoble lady of Clarenta, whose fortune well supplanted the large incomewhich he had forfeited by his resignation. 

Now honor called for deeds. Almost immediately he was obliged to leavefor Naples in order to meet the detractor of his valor, and, to hissurprise, the Queen spoke lightly of the quarrel. "It is a question oflaw, " said she. "An inquiry shall be had. There must be no bloodshed. "

An inquiry was therefore in order, and it was a thorough one. "Simonis in the wrong, " said the fellow acting as clerk for those sittingupon the case. "He must pay all the expenses to which Zeno has beenput, and there shall be no duel. "

"My honor has been cleared, " cried Zeno. "I must return to Greece. "There--strange as it might seem--he was at once named Governor of aprovince, though not yet twenty-three. Events were going well withhim. But his wife died, he was cheated of his dowry by her relations, and so he turned once more to Venice, --saddened, older and nearlypenniless. The wheel of fortune had turned badly for this leader offighting men and future general of white-winged galleons of the sea. 

But now there was a really good fight--such a fight as all truesailors love--a fight which tested the grit and courage of Zeno to thefull. It was the first of those heroic deeds of arms which shedundying lustre on his name, and marked him as a seaman of the firstrank, --a captain of true courage, resources and ambition. 

The Genoese (or inhabitants of Genoa) and the Venetians, werecontinually at war in these days, and when--in patriotic zeal--CarloZeno seized the island of Tenedos, the Venetian Senate, fearing lestthe Genoese would seek to recover the lost possession, sent a fleet offifteen ships to guard it, under one Pietro Mocenigo. There were alsotwo other vessels, one commanded by Carlo Zeno himself. The mass ofgalleys floated on to Constantinople, for the Greeks had alliedthemselves with the Genoese, had seized a Venetian man-of-war, whichhad been captured, and had then retired. Three lumbering hulks wereleft to protect the fair isle of Tenedos, --under Zeno, the war-likeVenetian. 

"Aha, " said a Genoese seaman. "There are but three galleys left tosave our isle of Tenedos. We shall soon take it with our superiorforce. Forward, O sailors! We'll have revenge for the attack of thewild men from Venice. "

"On! on!" cried the Genoese seamen, and without further ado, twenty-two galleys careened forward, their white sails bellying in thewind, their hawsers groaning, spars creaking, and sailors chatteringlike magpies on a May morning. 

Carlo Zeno had only three hundred regular soldiers and a few archers, but he occupied the suburbs of the town and waited for the attackersto land. This they did in goodly numbers, for the sea was calm andmotionless, although it was the month of November. 

"Men!" cried the intrepid Zeno, "you are few. The enemy are asnumerous as blades of grass. Do your duty! Fight like Trojans, and, ifyou win, your grateful countrymen will treat you as heroes should berespected. Never say die, and let every arrow find an opening in thearmor of the enemy. "

The Genoese came on with shouts of expectancy, but they were met witha far warmer reception than they had anticipated. The air was filledwith flying arrows, as, crouching low behind quickly constructedredoubts, the followers of the stout-souled Zeno busily stretchedtheir bowstrings, and shot their feathered barbs into the mass ofcrowding seamen. Savage shouts and hoarse cries of anguish, rose fromboth attackers and attacked, while the voice of Zeno, shrilled highabove the battle's din, crying: "Shoot carefully, my men, do not letthem defeat us, for the eyes of Venice are upon you. " So theystruggled and bled, until the shadows began to fall, when--realizingthat they were unable to take the courageous Venetians--the Genoesewithdrew to their ships. 

There was laughter and song around the camp fires of Zeno's littleband, that night, but their leader spoke critically of the morrow. 

"Sleep well, my men, " said he, "for I know that our foes are wellangered at the beating we have given them. Next morn we shall again beat war. Let us keep our courage and have as a battle cry, 'Venice! Noretreat and no quarter!'"

When morning dawned the Genoese were seen to land engines of war, withthe apparent intention of laying siege to the town. Their preparationsshowed that they meant to attack upon the side farthest from thecastle, so Carlo Zeno--the quick-witted--placed a number of his men inambush, among a collection of half-ruined and empty houses which stoodin that quarter. "Stay here, my men, " said he, "and when the enemy hasadvanced, charge them with fury. We must win to-day, or we will bedisgraced. "

Meanwhile the rest of the Venetians had retreated inland, and, crouching low behind a screen of brush, waited patiently for theGenoese to come up. "Be cautious, " cried Zeno, "and when the enemy iswithin striking distance, charge with all the fury which you possess. "

"Aye! Aye! Good master, " cried the stubborn soldiers. "We mark wellwhat you tell us. "

Not long afterwards the attacking party came in view, and, withoutsuspecting what lay in front, advanced with quick gait towards thesupposedly defenseless town. But suddenly, with a wild yell, thefollowers of Zeno leaped from behind the screening bushes, and dashedtowards them. At the same instant, the soldiers who had been placed inhiding, attacked suddenly from the rear. Arrows poured into the ranksof the Genoese, and they fell like wheat before the scythe of thereaper. Hoarse shouts, groans, and cries of victory and death, welledabove the battle's din. 

In the midst of this affair Carlo Zeno gave a cry of pain. An arrow(poisoned 'tis said) had entered his leg and struck him to the ground. But, nothing daunted, he rose to cry shrilly to his men, "On! On!Drive them to the ocean. " And, so well did his soldiers follow thesecommands, that the Genoese fled in confusion and disorder to theirships. The day was won. 

As was natural, Zeno paid no attention to his wound, and, when theenemy hurried to shore the next day for another attack, they weregreeted with such a terrific discharge of artillery that they gave uptheir idea of capturing the island and sailed away amidst cries ofderision from the delighted Venetians. 

"Hurrah!" cried they. "Hurrah for Zeno!" But so exhausted was theintrepid leader by reason of his wound that he fell into a spasm as ifabout to die. His iron constitution pulled him through, however, andsoon he and the faithful band returned to Venice, covered with glory, and full satisfied with their hard won victory. 

The daring Zeno was well deserving of praise, for he had beaten afleet and an army by sheer genius, with three ships and a handful ofmen. To Venice had been preserved the valuable island which guards theentrance to the Dardanelles, and to her it was to remain for years, although the Genoese tried many times and oft to wrest it from hergrasp. 

Now came another struggle--the war of Chioggia--a struggle in whichCarlo Zeno played a great and noble part, --a part, in fact, that hasmade his name a byword among the grateful Venetians: a part in whichhe displayed a leadership quite equal to that of a Drake, or aHawkins, and led his fighting galleons with all the courage of a lion. Hark, then, to the story of this unfortunate affair! Hark! and letyour sympathy be stirred for Carlo Zeno, the indefatigable navigatorof the clumsy shipping of the Italian peninsula!

For years the Republics of Genoa and Venice remained at peace, but, for years the merchants of the two countries had endeavored to outwiteach other in trade; and, thus, when the Genoese seized severalVenetian ships with rich cargoes, in 1350, and refused to give themup, war broke out between the rival Republics. In two engagements atsea, the Venetians were defeated; but in a third they were victorious, and forever sullied the banner of St. Mark, which flew from theirAdmiral's mast-head, by causing nearly five thousand prisoners of warto be drowned. Fired by a desire for immediate revenge upon their foe, the Genoese hurried a mighty fleet to sea, and ravaged the Italiancoast up to the very doors of Venice itself. Several otherengagements followed, in most of which the Venetians were defeated;and then there were twenty years of peace before another conflict. 

Finally war broke out afresh. Angry and vindictive, the Genoese boredown upon the Venetian coast in numerous lumbering galleys, determined--this time--to reach Venice itself, and to sack this richand populous city. With little difficulty they captured Chioggia, aseaport, a populous city and the key to the lagoons which led to theheart of the capital. They advanced to the very outskirts of Venice, and their cries of joyous vindictiveness sounded strangely near to thenow terrified inhabitants, who, rallying around their old generals andcity fathers, were determined to fight to the last ditch. 

As winter came, the victoriously aggressive Genoese retreated toChioggia, withdrawing their fleet into the safe harbor to await thespring; leaving only two or three galleys to cruise before theentrance, in case the now angered Venetians should attack. But theywere to be rudely awakened from their fancied seclusion. 

"Lead us on, O Pisani, " the Venetians had cried in the broad marketspace of their beloved city. "We must and will drive these invadersinto their own country. Never have we received before such insults. On! On! to Chioggia. "

So, silent and vengeful, the Venetian fleet stole out to sea on theevening of December twenty-first. There were thirty-four galleys, sixty smaller armed vessels, and hundreds of flat-bottomed boats. Pisani was in the rear, towing two heavy, old hulks, laden withstones, to sink in the entrance of the harbor and bottle up the fleet, even as the Americans were to sink the _Merrimac_ in the Harbor ofSantiago, many years afterwards. 

The Genoese were unready. The cruisers, on duty as sentinels, were notwhere they should have been, and so the gallant Pisani scuttled thehulks across the harbor entrance and caught the bold marauders likerats in a trap. The fleet of the enemy was paralyzed, particularly asanother river's mouth, some two miles southward, was also blockaded. Smiles of satisfaction shone upon the faces of the outraged Venetians. 

Carlo Zeno was hurrying up with a strong fleet manned by veteranseamen, but the now victorious followers of Pisani wished to return toVenice. 

"It is the Christmas season, " cried many. "We have fought like lions. We have shut up our enemy. We have averted the extreme danger. Let usreturn to our wives and our children!"

"You cannot go, " said Pisani, sternly. "You are the entire malepopulation of Venice. Without you the great expedition will come tonaught, and all of our toil will have been thrown away. Only be calm. Carlo Zeno will soon be here, and we can then take Chioggia!"

Alas! Like Columbus, he saw himself upon the verge of losing theresult of all his labor for lack of confidence in him upon the part ofhis men. He could not keep them by force, so wearily and anxiously hescanned the horizon for signs of an approaching sail. 

The days went slowly by for the lion-hearted Pisani. Carlo Zeno didnot come. Day after day the valiant leader fearfully looked for thewhite-winged canvas of a Venetian galleon, but none came to view. Onthe thirtieth day of December his men were very mutinous. 

"We will seize the ships and return to-morrow to Venice, " criedseveral. "We have had enough of war. Our wives and daughters cry to usto return. "

Pisani was desperate. 

"If Carlo Zeno does not come in forty-eight hours, the fleet mayreturn to Lido, " said he. "Meanwhile, keep your guns shooting at theenemy. We must make these Genoese feel that we shall soon attack inforce. "

But Pisani's heart was leaden. Where, yes, where was Zeno? New Year'sDay came, and, by his promise, he must let the Venetians go. What didthis mean for him? It meant the fall of Venice, the end of theRepublic, the destruction of the population with all that theypossessed. He--their idol, their leader for ten days--could no longerlead, for the Venetians could not bear a little cold and hardship forhis sake. Sad--yes, sad, indeed--was the face of the stout seaman ashe gave one last despairing glance at the horizon. 

Ha! What was that? A thin, white mark against the distant blue! Itgrew larger and clearer. It was the sail of a galley. Another, andanother, and another hove in sight, --eighteen in all, and drivingalong swiftly before a heavy wind. But, were they hostile, orfriendly? That was the question. Was it Zeno, or were these moregalleons of the Genoese? Then, joy shone in the keen eyes of Pisani, for the banner of St. Mark fluttered from the peak of the foremostship, and floated fair upon the morning breeze. Hurrah! It was CarloZeno, the lion-hearted. 

God speed brave Zeno! He had been twice wounded in fights along thecoast, en route, but nothing could diminish his energy, or dampen hisardor. He had laid waste the Genoese coast; he had intercepted convoysof grain; he had harassed the enemy's commerce in the East, and he hadcaptured a huge vessel of theirs with five hundred thousand pieces ofgold. Marvellous Zeno! Brave, courageous Venetian sea-dog, you arejust in the nick of time!

"Thanks be to Heaven that you have come, " cried Pisani, tears wellingto his eyes. "Now we will go in and take Chioggia. It means the end ofthe war for us. Again, I say, thanks be to Heaven. "

With renewed hope and confidence the Venetians now pushed the siege. Seeing that their fleet could never escape, the Genoese started to diga canal to the open sea, by which the boats could be brought offduring the night. The work was begun, but Carlo Zeno discovered it intime. Volunteers were called for, a force was soon landed, and, underthe leadership of Zeno, marched to intercept the diggers of this, theonly means of escape. 

"The Venetians are going towards 'Little Chioggia, '" cried many of theGenoese. "We must hasten there to stop them. "

[Illustration: From an old print. ZENO'S FLEET. ]

But Zeno had only made a feint in this direction. Throwing his mainforce in the rear of the Genoese, he soon began to cut them up badly. They were seized with a panic. They fled towards the bridge ofChioggia, trampling upon each other as they ran, pursued and slashedto ribbons by Zeno's men. The bridge broke beneath the weight of thefugitives and hundreds were drowned in the canal, while thousandsperished near the head of this fateful causeway. It was a great andsignal victory for Zeno; the intrepid sea-dog and campaigner on land. 

This was a death blow. That night some of the garrison hastened todesert, and, as the siege progressed, the drinking water began tofail, the food gave out, and starvation stared the holders of Chioggiain the face. On the twenty-fourth of June the city surrendered; andfour thousand one hundred and seventy Genoese, with two hundredPaduans--ghastly and emaciated--more like moving corpses than livingbeings--marched out to lay down their arms. Seventeen galleys, also, were handed over to the Venetians: the war-worn relics of the oncepowerful fleet which had menaced Venice itself. 

As a feat of generalship, Pisani's blockade of the Genoese fleet isrivalled by Sampson's blockade of Cervera's squadron at Santiago in1898, and the military operation by which Carlo Zeno tempted thegarrison of Brondolo into the trap which he had set for them, anddrove them, like a flock of sheep into Chioggia, by sunset, is surelya splendid feat of arms. All honor to this intrepid sea-dog of oldVenice!

How fickle is Dame Fortune! Jealous of the reputation of this nobleVenetian, the patricians, whose advice, during the war, he hadconsistently declined to follow; refused to make him a Doge of theCity. It was thought that the election of the bravest captain of theday might be dangerous to the Republic. Instead of doing him honor, they imprisoned him; and was he not the noblest patriot of them all?

When over seventy years of age, --the greatest and truestVenetian--loaned a small sum of money to the Prince Carrara, once apower in Venetian politics. He had saved his country from destruction. He had served her with the most perfect integrity. Yet, he reaped thereward which fell to the share of nearly every distinguished Venetian;he was feared by the government; hated by the nobles whom he hadout-stripped in honor, and was condemned to prison by men who were notworthy to loose the latchet of his shoes. Although he had often paidthe mercenary soldiers to fight for Venice, in the War of Chioggia, from his own pocket, he was sent to jail for loaning money to anunfortunate political refugee. 

When called before the Council of Ten on the night of the twentieth ofJanuary, 1406, the warrant for his examination authorized the use oftorture. But even the Ten hesitated at this. 

"He is a brave man, " said one. "Pray allow him to go untouched. "

The prisoner admitted that he had loaned the money. His explanationwas both honorable and clear. But the Ten were obdurate that night. 

"He shall go to the Pozzi prison for a year, " said they. "Besidesthis, he shall suffer the perpetual loss of all offices which he hasheld. "

Like a brave man, Carlo Zeno accepted the sentence without a murmur, and his sturdy frame did not suffer from the confinement. For twelveyears longer he lived in perfect health; made a pilgrimage toJerusalem; commanded the troops of the Republic once again; defeatedthe Cypriotes, and died peacefully, --a warrior with a name ofundiminished lustre, most foully tarnished by his own compatriots. Hisis a reputation of undying glory, that of his judges is that ofeternal shame. All honor to Carlo Zeno, the valorous Venetian, whocould fight a ship as well as a squadron of foot soldiers on land!_Salve, Venetia!_

 "Dip the banner of St. Mark, Dip--and let the lions roar. Zeno's soul has gone above, Bow--a warrior's life is o'er. "

HARKEE, BOYS!

 Harkee, Boys! I'll tell you of the torrid, Spanish Main, Where the tarpons leap and tumble in the silvery ocean plain, Where the wheeling condors circle; where the long-nosed ant-bears sniff At the food the Jackie "caches" in the Aztec warrior's cliff. 

 _Oh! Hurray for the deck of a galleon stout, _ _Hurray for the life on the sea, _ _Hurray! for the cutlass; the dirk; an' th' pike;_ _Wild rovers we will be. _

 Harkee, Boys! I'll tell you of the men of Morgan's band, Of Drake and England--rascals--in the palm-tree, tropic land. I'll tell you of bold Hawkins, how he sailed around the Horn. And the Manatees went _chuck! chuck! chuck!_ in the sun-baked, lazy morn. 

 _Oh! Hurray for the deck of a galleon stout, _ _Hurray for the life on the sea, _ _Hurray! for the cutlass; the dirk; an' th' pike;_ _Wild rovers we will be. _

 Harkee, Boys! You're English, and you come of roving blood, Now, when you're three years older, you must don a sea-man's hood, You must turn your good ship westward, --you must plough towards the land Where the mule-train bells go _tink! tink! tink!_ and the bending cocoas stand. 

 _Oh! You will be off on a galleon stout, _ _Oh! You will be men of the sea, _ _Hurray! for the cutlass; the dirk; an' th' pike;_ _Wild rovers you will be. _

SIR FRANCIS DRAKE

ROVER AND SEA RANGER

(1540-1596)

 "The man who frets at worldly strife Grows sallow, sour, and thin; Give us the lad whose happy life Is one perpetual grin: He, Midas-like, turns all to gold, -- He smiles, when others sigh, Enjoys alike the hot and cold, And laughs through wet and dry. "

 --DRAKE. 

SIR FRANCIS DRAKE

ROVER AND SEA RANGER

(1540-1596)

 Sing a song of stout dubloons, Of gold and jingling brass, A song of Spanish galleons, Foul-bottomed as they pass. Of roaring blades and stumbling mules, Of casks of malmsey wine, Of red, rip-roaring ruffians, In a thin, meandering line. 

 _They're with Drake, Drake, Drake, _ _He can make the sword hilt's shake, _ _He's a rattling, battling Captain of the Main. _ _You can see the Spaniards shiver, _ _As he nears their shelt'ring river, _ _While his eyelids never quiver_ _At the slain. _

 So, -- Here's to Drake, Drake, Drake, Come--make the welkin shake, And raise your frothing glasses up on high. If you love a man and devil, Who can treat you on the level, Then, clink your goblet's bevel, To Captain Drake. 

"Take care, boy, you will fall overboard. Take care and do not playwith your brother near the edge of our good ship, for the water hereis deep, and I know that you can swim but ill. "

The man who spoke was a rough, grizzled sea-dog, clad in an oldjersey and tarpaulins. He stood upon the deck of an aged, dismantledwarship, which--anchored in the shallow water near Chatham, England, --swung to and fro in the eddying currents. Around him, uponthe unwashed deck, scampered a swarm of little children, twelve inall, and all of them his own. 

"Very good, Father, " spoke the curly-haired youngster. "I'll mind whatyou tell me. You're wrong, though, when you say that I cannot swim, for I can, even to yonder shore. Do you want to see me do it?"

"Nay, nay, " chuckled the stout seaman. "You're a boy of courage, Francis. That I can well see. But do not try the water. It is cold andyou will have a cramp and go under. Stick to the quarter-deck. " Andlaughing softly to himself, he went below, where a strong smell ofcooking showed that there was something upon the galley stove to feedhis hungry crew of youthful Englishmen. 

It was surely a strange house to bring up a troop of merry childrenin. The sound of wind and waves was familiar to them at night and theygrew to be strong and fearless. But is not this the proper way to reara sea-dog?

These little ducklings, descended from a Drake, must have early settheir hearts upon adventure and a seafaring life. In fact, one ofthem, young Francis, was to be one of the best known seamen of thecenturies and knighted for his services to the Crown. Reared in aship, he, by nature, loved the sea as only a child of the ocean couldhave done. The brine ran in his blood. 

Being the son of a poor man, he was apprenticed to a master of a smallvessel which used to coast along the shore and carry merchandise toFrance and the Netherlands. He learned his business well. So well, indeed, that at the death of the master of the vessel it wasbequeathed "to Francis Drake, because he was diligent and painstakingand pleased the old man, his master, by his industry. " But thegallant, young sea-dog grew weary of the tiny barque. 

"It only creeps along the shore, " he said. "I want to get out upon theocean and see the world. I will therefore enlist with my stoutkinsmen, the Hawkins brothers, rich merchants both, who build and sailtheir own ships. "

This he did, and thus began the roving life of Francis Drake:dare-devil and scourge of the West Indian waters. 

About fifty years before this lusty mariner had been born, America wasdiscovered by Christopher Columbus--an Italian sailor in the serviceof Spain--and this powerful country had seized a great part of the newfound land. There was no love lost between the Spaniards and the menfrom the cold, northern British Isles and thus Francis Drake spent hisentire career battling with the black-haired, rapacious, andavaricious adventurers who flew the banner of King Philip of Arragon. Sometimes he was defeated, more often he was successful. Hark, then, to the tale of his many desperate encounters upon the wide waters ofthe surging Atlantic. 

Drake had said, "I'm going to sea with the Hawkins and view theworld, " and, as John Hawkins was just about to sail for the WestIndies in six ships, the youthful and eager mariner was given anopportunity to command a vessel called the _Judith_. The fleet atfirst had good success. Slaves were captured upon the African coastand were sold in the West Indies, though with difficulty, because theSpaniards had been forbidden by their king to trade with the English. Laden with treasure and spices, the ships were about to start forhome, when fearful storms beset them. Their beams were badlyshattered. 

"We must seek a haven, " cried Hawkins. "Ready about and steer for VeraCruz, the port of the City of Mexico! There we can buy food and repairour fleet!"

"'Tis well, " cried his men, and, aiming for the sheltering harbor, they soon ploughed into the smooth water of the bay. But there wasconsternation among the Spaniards of the town. 

"We have treasure here, " they whispered to each other. "See, thoseEnglish dogs have come to rob us! We must fight, brothers, and fighthard to keep the cruel Islanders away. " And they oiled their pistolsand sharpened their cutlasses upon their grindstones. 

[Illustration: SIR FRANCIS DRAKE. ]

But luck was with the inhabitants of Vera Cruz. Next morning thirteencareening galleys swept into the quiet waters of the bay and joyshone in the black eyes of the Spaniards. 

"It is a Mexican fleet, " cried they. "It returns with a new Viceroy orGovernor, from good King Philip of Spain. " And they laughedderisively. 

But in the breasts of Drake and Hawkins there was doubt and suspicion. 

"They are sure to attack us, " said Hawkins, moving among his men. "Letevery fellow be upon his guard. "

The Spanish were full of bowings and scrapings. They protested theirdeep friendship for the English and wished to be moored alongside. 

"We are very glad to see you, English brothers, " said one. "We welcomeyou to the traffic and trade of the far East. " So they peacefullydropped anchor near the suspicious men of England, still smiling, singing, and cheerfully waving a welcome to the none-too-happysailors. 

"Avast, " cried Francis Drake, "and sleep on your arms, my Hearties, for to-morrow there'll be trouble, or else my blood's not British. " Hewas but a young man, yet he had guessed correctly. 

As the first glimmer of day shone in the dim horizon, a shot awoke thestillness of the morn. Another and another followed in rapidsuccession. Then _boom!_ a cannon roared, and a great iron ball burieditself in the decking of the _Jesus_; the flagship of gallant Hawkins. 

"We're attacked, " cried Drake. "Man the decks! Up sails and steer tosea! Fight as you never fought before! Strike and strike hard fordear old England!"

But his warning almost came too late, for two Spanish galleons rangedalongside and swung grappling irons into his rigging in order to closewith the moving vessel. The Englishmen struck at them with oars andhand-spikes, knocking the tentacles of the on-coming octopus aside, and, with sails flying and shots rattling, the _Judith_ bore towardsthe open sea. 

The fight was now furious. Two of the English ships were sunk and the_Jesus_, Hawkins' own boat, was so badly damaged that she layapparently helpless in the trough of the surging ocean. 

"Back, my Hearties, " cried Drake, "and we'll see what we can do tosave our gallant captain. "

So back they sailed, and, firing their little cannon with rapidity, soon held off the Spanish ship which threatened Hawkins himself withcapture. Some of the English sailors jumped into their boats and rowedaway, some gave in to the Spaniards, and some fought relentlessly. Thus raged the battle until the evening. 

As night fell, Drake ordered the _Judith_ to put to sea, Hawkinsfollowed, and wandering about in these unknown parts, with littlewater and a scarcity of food, hunger forced the weary sailors to eathides, cats, dogs, mice, rats, parrots and monkeys. 

"It was the troublesome voyage, " wrote Hawkins, and such, indeed, ithad proved to be. Some of the sailors asked to be placed on landrather than risk shipwreck and starvation in the overcrowded boat. Some of them reached England after years of suffering and wearyjourneying to and fro. Some were captured by the Spaniards and wereput to death as heretics. A few were sent to the galleys as slaves. Others, more fortunate, were rowed ashore to serve in monasteries, where the monks made kind and gentle masters. 

And what of the youthful and danger-loving Drake? Five days before thewind-swept _Jesus_ struggled into Plymouth harbor with Hawkins and afamine-driven crew, Drake and his own adventurous Englishmen steeredthe little _Judith_ to the rocky headland which hides this shelteringrefuge from the fury of the sea. 

"I am indeed right glad to reach Merrie England again, " said he, "forwe have had a rough and dangerous voyage. The Spaniards aretreacherous dogs. They betrayed us, and henceforth I, for one, shallshow them no quarter. "

So saying he journeyed to London to see the good Queen Elizabeth. 

"It is impossible for me to wage war upon Philip of Spain, " said thevaliant Mistress of England's destinies, when she heard his story ofloss of kinsmen, friends and goods of great value. "I have a poorcountry. The navy of my fathers has been ruined. I have no proper armywith which to avenge the treachery of Spain, and I have trouble withboth France and Scotland. If you would have revenge, take matters intoyour own hands. "

"Philip is the mightiest monarch in the world to-day, " answered thewell-bronzed mariner, bowing low. "I am only a humble seafarerwithout either ships or money, but, most gracious Majesty, I am goingto help myself in my quarrel with the King of Spain. From henceforththere will be war to the death between myself and the men of thesouth. "

The good Queen smiled, for she truly loved a valiant man. 

"May God be with you, " said she. 

It was not long before the danger-loving mariner was again headed forthe West Indies and the Spanish Main, with a crew of seventy-three menand boys. 

"We believe in our leader, " said one. "He will take us on to fortuneand to fame. " And this was the sentiment of all, for who does not lovea voyage after gold and treasure?

Ploughing relentlessly across the deep, the two ships which carriedthese roving blades, reached the palm-clad West Indies in twenty-fivedays. All were cheerful and gay, for before them was danger, excitement, battle, and Spanish gold. "Lead on, Captain Drake, " criedone of the men. "We wish to land at Plymouth with our pockets stuffedwith Spanish dubloons. "

"I'll take you to the seaport of Nombre de Dios, " said the bluff searanger. "There is gold and silver in this spot, and by the hogshead. Furthermore, " he added chuckling, "most of it will be in the hold ofour stout ships, the _Pascha_ and the _Swan_, before another moon. "

So the sailors were drilled in attack and sword play, while arms weredistributed, which, up to now, had been kept "very fair and safe ingood casks. " All were in a cheerful mood, for the excitement ofbattle had begun to stir the hot blood in their veins. 

Late in the afternoon, the pinnaces (which had been carried on deck)were launched, and climbing aboard, the men of Merrie England set sailfor the Spanish town. They lay under the shore, out of sight, untildark. Then they rowed with muffled oars to the shadows of theprecipitous cliffs which here jutted into the rolling ocean, andquietly awaited the dawn. 

At three in the morning, while the silvery light of a half moon wasjust reddened with the first flush of dawn, the eager buccaneerslanded upon the sandy beach. "Hark!" cried a youth, "We are alreadydiscovered. "

As he spoke, the noise of bells, drums, and shouting, came to thestartled ears of the invaders. 

"Twelve men will remain behind to guard the pinnaces, " cried Drake. "The rest must follow me and fight even to the last ditch. Forward!"

Splitting into two bands, the Englishmen rushed through the narrowstreets with a wild cheer ringing in the silent air. Drake'sbrother--with a certain John Oxenham and sixteen others--hurriedaround behind the King's treasure-house, and entered the eastern sideof the market-place; while Drake, himself, marched up the main streetwith bugles blowing, drums rolling, and balls of lighted tow blazingfrom the end of long pikes carried by his stout retainers. Thetownsfolk were terrified with the din and blaze of fire. "An army isupon us, " cried many. "We must flee for our lives. "

In spite of this, a goodly number rallied at the market-place, wherethere was a sharp fight. But nothing could withstand the onset of themen from the fog-swept island, and soon the Spaniards fled, leavingtwo behind who had been captured and held. 

"You must show us the Governor's house, " cried Drake. "All thetreasure is there. "

The two captives obeyed unwillingly, and great was the disappointmentof the English when they found only bars of silver in the spaciousmansion. 

"On! To the King's treasure-house!" again shouted the bold mariner. "There, at least, must be gold and jewels. "

In fact the English were furious with disappointment, for, as theyreached the Governor's mansion (strongly built of lime and stone forthe safe keeping of treasure) the eager pillagers rushed through thewide-open doorway. A candle stood lighted upon the top of the stairs. Before the threshold a horse stood champing his bit, as if recentlysaddled for the Governor, himself, while, by the flickering gleam ofthe taper, a huge glittering mass of silver bars was seen piled fromfloor to ceiling. That was all, --no caskets of gold or precious stoneswere to be seen. 

"Stand to your weapons, men!" cried Drake. "The town is full ofpeople. Move carefully to the King's treasure-house which is near thewaterside. There are more gold and jewels in that spot than all ourpinnaces can carry. "

As the soldiers hurried where he led, a negro called Diego, rushedpanting from the direction of the shore. 

"Marse Drake! Marse Drake!" he wailed. "De boats am surrounded by deSpanish. Dey will sholy be captured if you do not hurry back. Fo' deLohd's sake, Massa, come down to de sho'. "

"My brother and John Oxenham will hasten to the shore, " cried Drake. "Meanwhile, my Hearties, come batter down the doorway to this noblemansion. You are at the mouth of the greatest treasure-chest in theworld. "

As the valiant captain spoke these words, he stepped forward to deal ablow, himself, at the stout door which shut him from the glitteringriches. But suddenly he reeled and almost fell. Blood flowed in greatquantities upon the sand, from a wound in his leg which he hadreceived in the furious struggle within the market-place. 

"Come, Captain, " cried one of his retainers, seizing him in his arms. "You must hasten to our pinnaces. What brooks this treasure to us whenwe lose you, for, if you live we can secure gold and silver enough atany time, but if you die we can find no more. "

"I fear me that I am grievously hurt, " sadly spake the Captain. "Giveme but a drink and then I think that I can reach our boats. "

A soldier stooped and bound his scarf about the wounded leg of the nowweakened leader, and, bearing him aloft, the little band ofadventurers turned toward the ocean side. They soon embarked, withmany wounded besides the Captain, though none were slain save onetrumpeter. 

Although the surgeons were kept busy in providing remedies and salvesfor the hurts of the soldiers, their main care was for the boldFrancis Drake, --leader of this desperate expedition in quest oftreasure. 

"If we lose you, " cried a sailor, "we can scarce get home again. Butwhile we enjoy your presence and have you in command of us, we canrecover enough of wealth. "

"Before we left the harbor we took, with little trouble, a ship ofwine for the greater comfort of our company, " writes one of the stoutsoldiers in this brave affair. "And though they shot at us from thetown we carried our prize to the Isle of Victuals. Here we cured ourwounded men and refreshed ourselves in the goodly gardens which wefound there abounding with great store of dainty roots and fruit. There were also great plenty of poultry and other fowls, no lessstrange and delicate. "

Although unsuccessful--as you see--the brave mariners were notdaunted, and, after the wounded had recovered, a new expedition wasdetermined upon, with the purpose of capturing one of the trains ofmules which carried gold from Vera Cruz to Panama. Drake had beenjoined by numerous Maroons--negroes who had escaped from the Spaniardsand had turned bandits--and these were quite willing and ready to aidhim in the pursuit of treasure. But before the English marauders movedtowards the interior, they attempted to attack Cartagena, the capitalof the Spanish Main. 

Sailing into the harbor in front of this prosperous town, one evening, they found that the townsfolk had been well warned of their coming;they rang their bells and fired their cannon, while all of thesoldiers ranged themselves before the ramparts. 

"Egad, " cried Drake, with strange cheerfulness, in spite of hisdisappointment. "They're far too ready to receive us. We've got towithdraw. "

So they prowled around the mouth of the harbor, captured two ships, outward bound, and roared with laughter as they read a letter, writtento warn all nearby citizens of "that terrible marauder, pirate, andbutcher, Captain Drake. "

"The Spaniards carry no treasure by land during the rainy months, "said one of the natives. "You must wait for five full moons, if youwish to catch a mule train. "

"All right, " said Captain Drake. "We'll fortify a place ofrefuge--explore--and await the propitious moment when we can hope forsuccess. "

Thus they tarried patiently until they heard from the Maroons (whoranged the country up and down) that a large fleet had arrived fromSpain at Nombre de Dios. This was glad news. Drake smiled as he heardit, and prepared immediately to make a land journey to Panama withforty-eight followers, carrying provisions, arms, and many pairs ofshoes, because they were to cross several rivers of stone and gravel. 

The way lay between great palm trees and through cool and pleasantwoods where the sturdy Englishmen were much encouraged when they heardthat there stood a great tree, not far from where they were, fromwhich one could see both the North Sea (Atlantic) from which they werejourneying, and the South Sea (Pacific) towards which they were going. Finally--upon the fourth day--they came to a very steep hill, lyingeast and west like a ridge, and, at this point, Pedro--chief of theMaroons--took Drake by the hand, saying, "Follow me, O Captain, and I will show you two seas at once, for youare in the very centre of this country. Behold you stand in the heartof this fertile land. "

Looking before him, the lion-hearted adventurer saw a high tree inwhich had been cut many steps, so that one could climb to the top. Here was a convenient bower large enough for ten or twelve men to seatthemselves. Then--without further ado--he and the chief Maroonclambered into the spreading branches and gazed across the noddingpalm tops into the dim distance. It was a fair day, and, as theMaroons had felled certain trees so that the prospect might be moreclear, upon the delighted vision of the Englishman burst the vista ofthe blue Atlantic and shimmering Pacific. 

"I pray Almighty God in all his goodness, " cried out the adventurousDrake in loud tones of appreciation, "that I may have life and leaveto sail but once an English ship in this mighty ocean of the West!"

Then he called up the rest of the voyagers, and told them of hisprayer and purpose. 

"I will follow you by God's grace!" cried John Oxenham, "unless you donot wish my company. "

Drake smiled good-humoredly, and, with a wave of his arm in thedirection of the glistening waters, descended to the ground. 

"On, my hearties!" cried he, "and we'll soon bag a mule train with itspanniers filled with gold. "

The men started forward, singing an old English ballad. As they walkedthrough the high pampas grass, they began to get glimpses of Panamaand the low-lying ships in the harbor. They kept silence and at lengthhid themselves in a grove near the high road from Panama to Nombre deDios, while a negro was sent into the city as a spy. 

In the afternoon the faithful henchman returned. 

"A certain great man intends to go to Spain by the first ship, " hesaid. "He is travelling towards Nombre de Dios this very night withhis daughter and his family. He has fourteen mules, eight of which areladen with gold and one with jewelry. Two other trains of fifty muleseach--burdened with food and little silver--will also come up thisnight. "

The English smiled, and, without more ado, marched to within two milesof Vera Cruz, where half of them lay down upon one side of the road, and half upon the other. They were screened by the tall grass; sowell, indeed, that no eye could see them, and in an hour's time, totheir eager ears came the sound of mule trains passing to and fro nearVera Cruz, where trade was lively because of the presence of theSpanish fleet. All was propitious for a successful attack. 

But misfortune seemed always to follow the bold and adventurousDrake. As mischance would have it, one of his men called Robert Pike, who had "drunk too much brandy without water, " was lying close to theroadway by the side of a grinning Maroon, and, when a well-mountedcavalier from Vera Cruz rode by--with his page running at hisstirrup--he rose up to peer at him, even though his companion pulledhim down in the endeavor to hide his burly form. 

"Sacre Nom de Dieu, " cried the traveller. "It is a white man! AnEnglishman!" and, putting spurs to his horse, he rode away at afurious gallop in order to warn others of the highwayman's position. 

The ground was hard and the night was still. As Captain Drake heardthe gentleman's trot change into a gallop, he uttered a round Britishoath. 

"Discovered, " he muttered, "but by whose fault I know not. We'll awaitthe other trains and mayhap we'll have some booty yet. "

The gentleman, in fact, warned the Treasurer, who, fearing thatCaptain Drake had wandered to this hidden thicket, turned his train ofmules aside and let the others--who were behind him--pass on. Thus, byrecklessness of one of the company, a rich booty was lost, but--as anEnglishman has well said, "We thought that God would not let it betaken, for likely it was well gotten by that Treasurer. "

There was no use repining, for soon a tinkling of bells and tread ofhoofs came to the eager ears of the adventurers, and, through the longpampas grass ambled the other two mule trains--their drivers snappingthe whips with little thought of the lurking danger. In a moment theywere between the English and hidden Maroons, who--with a wildcheer--dashed upon them, surrounded them, and easily held them intheir power. Two horse loads of silver was the prize for all thistrouble and hard travel. 

"I never grieve over things past, " cried Drake. "We must now marchhome by the shortest route. It is certainly provoking that we lost themule train of gold, particularly as we were betrayed by one of our ownmen. Come, soldiers, turn about and retreat to our good ships. "

Half satisfied but cheerful, the soldiers and Maroons turned towardsthe coast, and, as they neared Vera Cruz, the infantrymen of the townswarmed outside to attack the hated men of Merrie England, with criesof, "Surrender! Surrender!"

Drake looked at them scornfully, replying, "An Englishman never surrenders!"

At this a volley rang out and one of the intrepid adventurers was "sopowdered with hail-shot that he could not recover his life, althoughhe continued all that day with Drake's men. " But stout Francis blewhis whistle--the signal for attack--and, with a wild cry, the Maroonsand English rushed for the black-haired and sallow-skinned defendersof the town. "Yo Peho! Yo Peho!" wailed the half-crazed natives asthey leaped high in the air, and encouraged by the presence of theEnglish, they broke through the thickets at the town's end and forcedthe enemy to fly, while the now terrified Spanish scurried pell melldown the coast. Several of Drake's followers were wounded, and oneMaroon was run through with a pike, but his courage was so great thathe revenged his own death ere he died, by slaying a Spaniard whoopposed him. 

At sunrise the land pirates continued their journey, carrying someplunder from Vera Cruz. Some of the men fainted with weakness, but twoMaroons would carry them along until they could again walk, andthus--struggling, cursing and singing--the party of weary anddisappointed marauders neared the place where they had left theirship. A messenger was sent forward with a golden toothpick to thoseleft behind upon the vessel and a request that the ship be broughtinto the narrow channel of a certain river. It was done, and when atlast the weary plunderers reached the shore, they gave a mighty cheeras they saw the white, bellying sails of their staunch, Englishvessel. Their journey for pelf and jewels had been a failure. 

This did not discourage the lion-hearted Drake, who declared, with asmile, "We'll yet catch a mule train, boys, and one in which thepanniers are filled with sufficient gold to sink our good ship. Keepyour hearts bright and I'll gain you enough of treasure to house youin peace and comfort in your old age. Remember--'Fortune favors thebrave!'" He had spoken with truth. 

Not long afterwards a French captain appeared, whose men were only tooeager for a little journey ashore after golden mule trains and battle. So a party was made up of twenty Frenchmen, fifteen Englishmen, andsome Maroons, who sailed with a frigate and two pinnaces, towards ariver called Rio Francisco--to the west of Nombre de Dios. Theylanded, struck inland, and were soon near the high road from Panama toNombre de Dios, where mule trains passed daily--some with food andmerchandise--a few with golden ingots and bars of silver. 

In silence they marched along and spent the night about a mile fromthe road, where they could plainly hear the carpenters working ontheir ships--which they did at night because of the fierce, torrid sunduring the day. Next morning--the first of April, but not an AprilFool's day by any means--they heard such a number of bells that theMaroons began to chuckle and say, "You will have much gold. Yo Peho!Yo Peho! This time we will all be rich!"

Suddenly three mule trains came to view, one of fifty long-earedbeasts of burden; two of seventy each, with every animal carryingthree hundred pounds weight of silver, amounting to nearly thirtytons. The sight seemed almost too good to be true. With a wild shoutthe ambuscaders leaped from their hiding places to rush franticallyupon the startled drivers. In a few moments the train was inpossession of Drake and his French and half-negro associates, whochuckled and grunted like peccaries. 

The leading mules were taken by the heads and all the rest lay down, as they always do when stopped. The fifteen soldiers who guarded eachtrain were routed, but not before they had wounded the French captainmost severely and had slain one of the Maroons. Silver bars and goldingots were there aplenty. They were seized and carried off, while, what was not transported, was buried in the earthen burrows made bythe great land crabs under fallen trees, and in the sand and gravel ofa shallow river. 

"And now for home, " cried a valorous sea farer, after a party hadreturned with a portion of the buried treasure, which was dividedequally between the French and the English. Much of that left in thesand crab holes had been discovered by the Spaniards--but not all. Thirteen bars of silver and a few quoits of gold had rewarded thesearch of the expectant voyageurs. 

"Yes, " cried all. "Sails aloft for Merrie England!" So, spreadingcanvas, the bold adventurers were soon headed for the foggy and mistyisle from which they had come. On Sunday, August ninth, 1573--justabout sermon time--they dropped anchor in the peaceful harbor ofPlymouth. 

"And the news of the Captain's return brought unto his people, did sospeedily pass over all the church, and fill the minds of thecongregation with delight and desire to see him, that very few, ornone, remained with the preacher. All hastened to see the evidence ofGod's love and blessing towards the gracious Queen and country, by thefruit of the gallant mariner's labor and success. "

"To God alone, " spake an humble citizen of Plymouth, "be the Glory. "

[Illustration: DRAKE'S GREATEST VICTORY ON THE SPANISH MAIN. (The surrender of Don Anton to Sir Francis Drake, March 1, 1579. )]

And all echoed these pious sentiments, in spite of the fact thatDrake was a robber, a pirate, and a buccaneer. But was he not theirown countryman?

 * * * * *

The scene now changes. It is a gray day at Plymouth and anxious facespeer into the street from the windows of the low, tiled houses. Acrowd has collected upon the jutting cliffs and all gaze with eagereyes towards the ocean. Men speak in hushed and subdued voices, forthere is trouble in the air. 

Among the knots of keen-eyed English there is one small party whichseems to be as joyous as a lot of school-boys. Five men are playing atbowls, and one of them is stout, and well knit, and swarthy visagedwith long exposure to the elements. He is laughing uproariously, whena lean fellow comes running from the very edge of those beetlingcliffs which jut far out into the gray, green Atlantic. 

"Hark'ee, Captain Drake!" he cries. "Ships are in the offing, and manyof them too! It must be the fleet of Philip of Spain come to ravageour beauteous country!"

"Ah, indeed, " answers the staunch-figured captain, without looking up. "Then let me have one last shot, I pray thee, before I go to meetthem. "

And so saying, he calmly tosses another ball upon the greensward, knocks aside the wooden pins, then smiling, turns and strides towardsthe waterside. 

Thus Drake--the lion-hearted--goes out to battle with the great Armadaof Philip of Spain, with a smile upon his lips, and full confidence inhis ability to defeat the Spaniards at home as well as on the SpanishMain. Let us see how he fared?

Smarting with keen anger at Drake and his successful attacks upon hiswestern possessions, Philip--the powerful monarch of Spain--determinedto gather a great fleet together and to invade England with a mightyarmy. 

"That rascally pirate has beaten me at Cadiz, at Cartagena, and atLisbon, " the irate king had roared, with no show of composure. "Now Iwill sail against him and crush this buccaneer, so that he and hiskind can never rise again. "

A mighty fleet of heavy ships--the Armada--was not ready to sail untilJuly, 1588, and the months before this had been well spent by theEnglish in preparation for defense, for they knew of the fullintention of their southern enemy. Shipwrights worked day and night. The clamoring dockyards hummed with excitement, while Good Queen Bessand her Ministers of State wrote defiant letters to the missives fromthe Spanish crown. The cold blood of the English--always quitelukewarm in their misty, moisty isle--had begun to boil with vigor. The Britons would fight valiantly. 

As the lumbering galleons neared the English coast, a heavy mist whichhid them, blew away, and the men of England saw the glimmering waterfairly black with the wooden vultures of old Spain. The Spaniards hadcome ready to fight in the way in which they had won many a brilliantvictory; with a horde of towering hulks, of double-deckers andstore-ships manned by slaves and yellow-skinned retainers, whodespised big guns and loved a close encounter with hand thrusts andpush of pike. Like a huge, wooden octopus this arrogant fleet ofArragon moved its tentacles around the saucy, new-made pinnaces of thetight little isle. 

"The boats of the English were very nimble and of good steerage, "writes a Spaniard, "so that the English did with them as they desired. And our ships being very heavy compared with the lightness of those ofthe enemy, it was impossible to come to hand-stroke with them. "

This tells the whole story. With a light wind astern--the war ships ofthe English bore down easily upon the heavy-bottomed Spanish galleonsand fired their guns at the hulls of the enemy. 

"Don't waste your balls upon the rigging, " cried Drake through atrumpet. "Sight low and sink 'em if you can. But keep away from thegrappling hooks so's not to let 'em get hold of you. If they oncedo--you're lost!"

Now was the sound of splitting of boards, as the solid shot pumpedgreat holes in the sides of the high rocking galleons. Dense clouds ofvapor hung over the struggling combatants--partly from a sea fog whichthe July sun had not thoroughly burned away, and partly from thespitting mouths of the cannon. Fire burst from the decks, the roar ofthe guns was intermingled with the shrill wails of the slaves, theguttural cries of the seamen, the screams of the wounded and thederisive howls of those maddened by battle. The decks were crimsonwith blood; sails split and tore as the chain-shot hummed through therigging, and the sharp twang of the arquebusques was mingled with thecrash of long-barrelled muskets. 

No men can fight like those who are defending their own homes. AtGettysburg, the Army of the Potomac--twice beaten in an attack uponthe South in the enemy's country--struggled as it had never donebefore, --and won. It had nowhere battled as when the foe was pushingit back upon its own soil and cities. 

So here--no fighters ever bled as did the English when the greedyhands of Spain were clutching at their shores. The light ships hungnear the Spaniards at a distance and did not board until spars weredown and the great rakish hulls were part helpless. Then--with a wildcheer--the little galleons--often two at a time--would grapple withthe enemy and board--cutlasses swinging, pistols spitting, andhand-spikes hewing a way through the struggling, yellow-faced ruffiansof Philip of Arragon. 

While the awful battle raged, fire ships were prepared on shore andsent down upon the Spanish fleet, burning fiercely and painting theskyline with red. Some of the large vessels had anchored, and, asthese terrors approached, they slipped their cables in order toescape. Confusion beset the ranks of the boastful foe and cheered onthe British bull-dogs to renewed exertions. 

At six in the evening a mighty cry welled from the British boats. "They fly! They fly!" sounded above the ruck and roar of battle. 

Yes--it was the truth. Beaten and dismayed, the Spanish fleet boreaway to the North, while the English--in spite of the fact that theirpowder was wet, and nearly all spent--"gave them chase as if theylacked nothing, until they had cleared their own coast and some partof Scotland of them. " The Armada--split, part helpless--drifted awayfrom Plymouth, and wild cheers of joy came from the deck of the vesselwhich carried bold Sir Francis Drake. The great battle had been won. 

So crippled were many of the Spanish hulks that they were wrecked instormy weather, off the coast of Scotland and Ireland. Not half ofthose who put to sea ever reached Spain again. Many sailors weredrowned, or perished miserably by the hands of the natives of thecoast, and some who escaped were put to death by the Queen's orders. Fever and sickness broke out in the English ships and the followers ofbold Drake died by hundreds, "sickening one day and perishing thenext. "

The English vessels, themselves, were in a bad way--they had to bedisinfected and the men put ashore--where the report of the manywrecks and the massacre of Spanish soldiers, eased the anxiety of theonce terrified inhabitants of the tight little isle, and made itcertain that the Armada would never return. Drake and his bold seamenhad saved the people of Merrie England. Again hats off to this pirateof the Spanish Main!

Safely settled in Buckland Abbey, knighted, honored, respected--thehero of the defense of England--one would think that Drake would haveremained peacefully at home to die "with his boots on. " But not so. The spirit of adventure called to him with irresistible force, andagain he set out for the Spanish Main. He had sailed around the worldbefore his grapple with the Armada; he had harassed the Spaniard in anexpedition to Lisbon; he was the idol of the English. He had doneenough--you say. Yes, he had done enough--but--like all men who lovethe game of life he wished to have just one more expedition in searchof gold and adventure, for--by nature he was a gambler, and he wasthrowing the dice with Fate. 

So a goodly crew sailed with him again, hoping for another raid uponmule trains and cities of treasure. But alas! There was to be adifferent story from the others. All the towns and hamlets of theSpanish Main had been warned to "be careful and look well tothemselves, for that Drake and Hawkins were making ready in England tocome upon them. " And when the English arrived they found stout defenseand valiant men, nor was a sail seen "worth giving chase unto. "Hawkins died, many grew ill of fever, and finally Drake, himself, succumbed to the malarial atmosphere of Panama. He was to remain wheregold and adventure had first lured him. 

On January the twenty-eighth, 1596, the great captain yielded up hisspirit "like a Christian, quietly in his cabin. " And a league from theshore of Porto Rico, the mighty rover of the seas was placed in aweighted hammock and tossed into the sobbing ocean. The spume frothedabove the eddying current, sucked downward by the emaciated form ofthe famous mariner, and a solitary gull shrieked cruelly above thebubbles, below which--upon beads of coral and clean sand--rested thebody of Sir Francis Drake, rover, rogue, and rattling sea ranger. Itwas his last journey. 

 "Weep for this soul, who, in fathoms of azure, Lies where the wild tarpon breaks through the foam, Where the sea otter mews to its brood in the ripples, As the pelican wings near the palm-forest gloom. Ghosts of the buccaneers flit through the branches, Dusky and dim in the shadows of eve, While shrill screams the parrot, --the lord of Potanches, 'Drake, Captain Drake, you've had your last leave. '"

SEA IRONY

 One day I saw a ship upon the sands Careened upon beam ends, her tilted deck Swept clear of rubbish of her long-past wreck; Her colors struck, but not by human hands; Her masts the driftwood of what distant strands! Her frowning ports, where, at the Admiral's beck, Grim-visaged cannon held the foe in check, Gaped for the frolic of the minnow bands. The seaweed banners in her fo'ks'le waved, A turtle basked upon her capstan head; Her cabin's pomp the clownish sculpin braved, And, on her prow, where the lost figure-head Once turned the brine, a name forgot was graved, It was "The Irresistible" I read. 

 --HEATON. 

SIR WALTER RALEIGH

PERSECUTOR OF THE SPANIARDS

(1552-1618)

 "All great men have lived by hope. "--JAMES FREEMAN CLARKE. 

[Illustration: YOUNG RALEIGH AND A COMPANION LISTENING TO TALES OFTHE SPANISH MAIN. ]

SIR WALTER RALEIGH

PERSECUTOR OF THE SPANIARDS

(1552-1618)

 "When the sobbing sea is squally, Then, --look out for Walter Raleigh! He's the fellow whom Queen Bess is said to love. He's a reckless, handsome sailor, With a 'Vandyke' like a tailor, He can coo fond words of loving like a dove. Faith! I like this gallant rover, Who has ploughed the wild seas over, Who has passed the grim and wild equator's ring. And I cheer, whene'er I view him, For--my Boy--off Spain I knew him When he trimmed the Spanish cruisers, like a King. "

 --_Chant of the Plymouth Dock-Hand. _

Boys! You have all heard about the _Square Deal_. Well--Here is thestory of a man who didn't get one. 

Walter Raleigh was a brave man; he was an able seafarer; his youngermanhood was spent in the midst of the most brilliant Royal Court whichEngland has known. He proved his courage and military prowess in morethan one bitterly contested battle-field and naval conflict. His loveof his own land and his hatred of his enemies was ardent. 

He was also a fellow of wit, and, as an author, took rank with thegreat literary lights of the Elizabethan Age. He was an adventurer, and, in middle life, as well as in old age, braved the great deep andperils of savage lands in the magnificent attempt to make discoveriesand to settle English colonies in the New World. Chivalrous in actionsand feeling; of handsome person; graceful manners and courtly address;it is no wonder that he had a host of enemies: those fellows whocouldn't do anything worth while themselves, and wanted to "pull theother fellow down. " There are plenty of them around, to-day, doing thesame thing in the same, old way. 

As an Englishman he loved England to such an extent, that--upon thereturn from one of his numerous voyages--he dropped upon one knee andkissed the sand. 

"My men, " said he to his followers, "I love this land as nothing elseon earth!"

The hostility of his rivals subjected him to harsh ill treatment. Itdid not dampen his love for England. 

The silly caprices of Queen Elizabeth, who--like most women--wasswayed, not by her reason, but by her sentiments, made him sufferimprisonment. Yet, it did not dampen his love for England. 

The terrible and bitter dislike of King James--who succeeded theVirgin Queen--finally led to his trial for treason; his execution; andhis death. 

Yet, it did not dampen his love for England. 

If England can produce men of such a mold, nowadays, she will continueto be a mighty world power. 

Do you think that _you_ could be as patriotic as Sir Walter Raleigh?Particularly if _you_ were treated as _he_ was treated? Think it over!

 * * * * *

One day, the ancient palace of Greenwich, which stood on the banks ofthe Thames--a few miles below London--presented a lively and brilliantscene. Courtiers, arrayed in gorgeous colors and glittering ornaments, walked about, chattering gaily, --like a flock of sparrows. Fine, youngcavaliers were there, attired in rich velvets, sparkling with gems, armed with gold-hilted swords. Grave statesmen wandered around, --withbeards as white as their ruffles. Stately dames, with heavy and gailytrimmed trains, peered at the beautiful belles, and said:

"My, isn't she a fright!" or

"Goodness, what _dreadful_ manners the Duchess so-and-so has!"

Just as they do to-day. Times do not change. 

Trumpets blared a fan-fa-rade and lines of soldiers gave forthinspiriting sounds, with many musical instruments. There was a stirand flutter in the crowd; and some one called out:

"She's coming! Hats off to the Queen!"

So all the men took off their hats, --for they were courtiers, and itwas their business to do so, whenever Her Royal Highness came around. Many of them didn't like to do it but if they hadn't done so, some spywould have cried out "Treason!" And they would have been hustled offto the Tower. You _just bet_ they took off their hats!

Descending the broad flight of steps, with proud and majestic mien, the tall and slender figure of Elizabeth--the maiden Queen ofEngland--was seen approaching. 

She was then in the mature ripeness of middle age, but she stillpreserved not a few remnants of the beauty of her youth. Her form wasstraight and well proportioned. Her large, blue eyes were yet brightand expressive; her complexion was still wonderfully fair and smooth. Her well arranged hair was luxuriant and was of a light red. A large, fan-like collar of richest lace rose from her slender neck, above herhead behind; and her tresses were combed high from her forehead. Jewels blazed from her dress. Her attire was far more splendid thanthat of any of the ladies of her court. 

As it happened, a heavy shower had just passed over, and littlepuddles of water stood all around upon the gravelled paths. Burstingthrough the fast-vanishing clouds, the sun cast its rays upon thetrees still dripping with glittering drops; and upon the smilingQueen, who--surrounded by a gay group of courtiers--set forth upon apromenade through the park. She chatted affably with all. They triedto make themselves as agreeable as possible, for he who was mostagreeable received the best plums from the Royal Tree. Politicshaven't changed any since that day. 

The Queen walked on, playing with a beautiful, white greyhound, and, pretty soon she came to a muddy spot in the path. 

"Zounds!" said she (or it may have been something stronger, forhistorians say that she could "swear valiantly"). "Zounds! Now I willspoil my pretty shoes!"

"And also your pretty feet, " interjected a courtier. He received asmile for this compliment and the Queen mentally made a note ofit, --for future use in the distribution of Court Favors. 

She hesitated, looked around aimlessly, and stood still. 

At this instant a young noble--six feet tall and elegantlyattired--stepped forward; and, throwing aside his richly embroideredcloak, spread it over the muddy pool. 

"Prithee, pass onward!" said he, bowing low. 

Elizabeth was delighted. 

"Good Walter Raleigh, " said she, smiling. "You are truly a gallantknight!" And she tripped gaily across the embroidered mantlet. "I willreward you right well for this!"

But the courtiers, the Ladies, and the Statesmen glanced withundisguised envy at the young gallant who had so readily pleased theirMistress; and they scowled at him as Elizabeth kept him at her sideduring the rest of her promenade. "The Beggar's outdone us all!" saidone. "Down with him!"

But they could not down Sir Walter just then. After awhile they had"their innings. "

Rough, vain, whimsical Queen Bess was fond of handsome, and especiallyof witty and eloquent young men. She grew more attached to Sir WalterRaleigh every day. He rapidly rose in power and influence, and, as apoet, became well known. His verses were read in the luxurious hallsof the palace with exclamations of delight, while the tales of hismilitary exploits were eagerly repeated from mouth to mouth; forRaleigh had fought valiantly in France and had helped to suppress aninsurrection in Ireland. 

And still the jealous courtiers murmured among themselves. 

Raleigh was appointed "Warden of the Stanneries, " or mines, inCornwall and Devonshire, from which he derived, each year, a largeincome. He was made Captain of the Queen's Guard. He was created LordLieutenant of Cornwall and Vice-Admiral of Devon. He received vastestates in Ireland and many privileges and licenses, so that he wasfast becoming a rich man. He was splendid and extravagant in hisdress. He grew arrogant. He had, in fact, "too much Ego in hisCosmos. "

So, the jealous courtiers continued to murmur among themselves. 

Elizabeth was fickle as well as sentimental. Her fancy passed lightlyfrom one gallant to another. For some time Leicester (who had oncebeen her sole favorite, and who desired to regain his position) hadbeen growing jealous of Raleigh's ascendency; and he had beendelighted to see that Queen Bess had taken a violent fancy to theimpetuous Earl of Essex. A quarrel took place between Raleigh and theRuler of England. He was affronted before the whole court and retiredto his chambers, overwhelmed with grief. 

[Illustration: SIR WALTER RALEIGH. ]

And all the jealous courtiers punched each other beneath the ribs, and laughed "Ha! Ha! Ha! What did we tell you?"

It took the "Ego" out of Raleigh's "Cosmos. "

But the gallant courtier had a half-brother--Sir Humphrey Gilbert--whohad just returned from a voyage around the world in the good ship_Golden Hind_. 

"Let's fit out a small fleet, " said he to Raleigh, "and establish anEnglish colony in Newfoundland. "

"I'm with you, " cried Sir Walter. "We'll found another England in fardistant America! On with it!"

Thus, an expedition of five ships sailed from Plymouth, in the earlysummer of 1583. Sir Humphrey boarded the _Squirrel_, and bade hiskinsman an affectionate adieu. 

"You must remain behind, " said he, "and regain our position at court!"

"That I will endeavor to do, " answered Raleigh. "Good luck and Godspeed. "

The expedition was a failure from the start. Scarcely had the shallopsgone to sea, than one of them--the _Raleigh_--deserted its companionsand put back. The rest reached Newfoundland, but the men were lawlessand insubordinate. 

"This is the Deuce of a cold place for a colony, " they said. "Home toMerrie England!"

Gilbert was forced to yield to their angry demands, and re-embarked. 

"Don't sail in that rattle-trap of a _Squirrel_, " said his officers tohim. "She'll founder!"

But Sir Humphrey had that obstinacy which characterized GeneralBraddock. 

"No: I will not forsake the little company, going homeward, " said he. "I'll stick to my ship. "

He stuck--and--when they hailed him one stormy night, he said:

"Be of good cheer, my friends: we are as near to Heaven by sea as byland!"

That night the _Squirrel_ was sailing a little in advance of the otherships, and, as those on board the _Golden Hind_ watched the frailbarque, they saw her lurch, heave, and then sink from view. Thus thesoul of brave Raleigh's kinsman found a watery grave. He had paid forhis obstinacy with his life. 

Raleigh was overwhelmed with grief when he learned of the death of hisheroic half-brother. 

"I'll yet found my Colony, " said he. "And I'll go myself. "

This pleased the jealous courtiers more than ever, for they would nowhave him out of the way for all time. 

With his ample wealth, the indefatigable adventurer found nodifficulty in fitting out an expedition, and, in the year after thedeath of Sir Humphrey Gilbert, he sent forth two vessels to explorethe coast of the Carolinas. 

"I'm going to stay at home and face my enemies!" said the gay blade. "Again good luck and God Speed!"

They had a fortunate voyage, and, when they returned, the Captainstold of the beautiful harbors, fine rivers, magnificent forests andabundance of game. The Queen was delighted, and at once named thefair country for herself, with characteristic egotism. That men mightknow that this fruitful land was explored in the time of the VirginQueen, it was called "Virginia. " Raleigh was wild with delight. 

And the jealous courtiers looked dejected and sad. 

A fleet of seven vessels--with one hundred colonists--was now sent toVirginia, under the command of one Grenville, who was eager to becomesuddenly rich: a disease as common now as in those venturous days. Nosooner had the people landed, than they began to treat the savageswith such harshness and rapacity--that they had to gain their ownfood, as the natives would have nothing to do with them. Dissensionstore the little community into shreds. So they were only too glad toreturn with the gallant old sea-dog, Sir Francis Drake, when hehappened that way, with a large amount of booty which he had justtaken from the Spaniards in the southern seas. 

Another expedition was sent over by Raleigh; and yet another. Theywere failures. But there was one, single thing which was not afailure. This was the discovery of a herb called "Yppowoc, " ortobacco, the leaves of which--when dried--were smoked by the nativesin long pipes. 

Curious Sir Walter had a jeweller in London make him a silver pipe, after the fashion of those used by the native Virginians. In this hebegan to smoke the tobacco, and soon grew to like it very much; somuch, indeed, that he was scarcely ever without this comforter, whenenjoying the quiet of his home. 

One day he was sitting cosily by his fire with his Long Nine in hismouth, and the smoke was curling gracefully over his head. Just as hewas puffing out a particularly thick cloud, one of his servantshappened to enter the room with a tankard of ale, for the luncheontable. 

"Ye Gods!" cried he. "My Master's on fire!"

_Swash!!_

Over Sir Walter's head went the ale, and the frightened lackey dasheddown the steps. 

"H-e-l-p! H-e-l-p!" cried he. "My Master is burning up! H-e-l-p!"

But Sir Walter did not burn up this time. Instead he near split hisgallant sides with laughing. 

Now, Boys, don't smile! 'Tis said that good old Queen Bess tried, herself, to smoke a Long Nine. But--hush--"she became so dizzy and illfrom the effects that she never ventured upon the experiment again!"(Keep this quiet! Very quiet! Will you!)

On one occasion she was watching Sir Walter blowing circles of smokeover his head, and said to him--

"Zounds! (or something stronger) Sir Walter! You are a witty man; butI will wager that you cannot tell me the weight of the smoke whichcomes from your pipe!"

"I can, indeed, " was the confident reply of the gallant courtier. "Watch me closely!"

At once he took as much tobacco as would fill his pipe and exactlyweighed it. Having then smoked it up, he--in like manner--weighed theashes. 

"Now, Your Majesty, " said he, smiling. "The difference between thesetwo weights is the weight of the smoke. "

And again Queen Bess remarked "Zounds!" (or Eftsoons!). At any rate, she paid the wager, for--with all her frailties--she was a Good Loser. 

Raleigh, in fact, shortly became reinstated in Royal favor, and, whenhe aided Drake and Hawkins--soon afterwards--in dispersing theInvincible Armada, he was again in the good graces of his sovereign. 

There was, however, a pretty, young Maid-of-Honor at court, calledElizabeth Throgmorton, and no sooner had the bright eyes of Sir Walterfallen upon her, than he fell in love. In paying court to this amiablelady he was compelled to use great caution and secrecy, for jealousQueen Bess watched him narrowly, and with suspicion. In spite of herpreference for Essex, Elizabeth was quite unwilling that Raleigh--herless favored lover--should transfer his affections to another. So, inmaking love to Elizabeth Throgmorton, the gay courtier was compelledto use the utmost care. 

But Murder (or Love) will out!

It chanced one day, that the Queen discovered what was going onbetween her Maid-of-Honor and the cavalier. Her rage knew no bounds. She berated Raleigh before her ladies, and forbade him to come tocourt. She fiercely commanded the Maid-of-Honor to remain a prisonerin her room, and, on no account to see Raleigh again. So the venturousKnight turned his attention once more to wild roving upon the sea. 

Now the jealous courtiers fairly chuckled with glee. "Ha! Ha! Ha!"laughed they. "Ho! Ho! Ho! He! He! He!"

But Sir Walter engaged very actively in fitting out some squadrons toattack the Spanish ships. 

"Egad! I hate a Spaniard!" he said. "They are my country's specialenemies and I intend to do them all the harm that I can!"

The Queen was glad enough to separate him from his lady love and notonly consented to his project, but promised to aid him in it. Ere longfifteen vessels were anchored in the Thames--all ready to sail--but, before he set out, the gallant commander made up his mind that hewould marry his beloved Maid-of-Honor. It was not difficult to find aclergyman who would splice him tighter than he ever spliced a ropeaboard ship. The deed was done. He set sail. All was goingpropitiously. 

"I'll attack the Spanish ships in the harbor of Seville, " saidRaleigh. "Then--off to the Spanish Main and sack the town of Panama. "He laughed, --but what was that?

Rapidly approaching from the coast of England came a swift pinnace. Itgained upon the squadron in spite of the fact that all sail washoisted, and, at last came near enough to give Raleigh a signal to"Heave to. " In a few moments her commander climbed aboard. 

"The Queen has changed her mind about your expedition, " said he. "Shehas sent me--Sir Martin Frobisher--to tell you to come home. "

Raleigh said things which made the air as blue as the sea, but he putback--for he could not disobey the Royal command. He was soon atcourt. 

The Queen was furious with anger. 

"You have disobeyed my commands, " said she. "I find you have secretlymarried my Maid-of-Honor. To the Tower with you! To the dungeons ofthe Tower!"

And all the jealous courtiers were so happy that they danced a can-canin the ante chamber. 

What do you think of this? Thrown into prison because he loved a Maidand married her! Nowadays "all the World loves a Lover. " In thosetimes all the world _might_ have "loved a Lover" except QueenBess, --and a number of courtiers hanging around within easy call:_They_ kicked a Lover. And then they all got together and said:

"Fine! Fine! Now we've got him where he ought to be. Ha! Ha! Ha! Ho!Ho! Ho!"

But women relent; that is one of their chief characteristics. QueenBess softened, grew lukewarm, finally became molten. 

"Sir Walter Raleigh can go free, " said she. 

The gallant courtier returned to his country estate, where--with hiswife and children he enjoyed the luxuries and comforts of countrylife. And the jealous courtiers began to look strangely sober. 

Still the sea called. The sea sang its old song, and, fired with thespirit of adventure, Sir Walter decided upon another expedition: thistime to the coast of Guiana, in South America, where, it was said, "billets of gold lay about in heaps, as if they were logs of woodmarked out to burn. " With a large fleet at his command he soon startedupon this expedition for plunder and for fame. This time no Sir MartinFrobisher sailed after him to bring him back to a dungeon in the Towerand he was able to reach his destination. 

The expedition was a howling success. Whenever and wherever Sir Waltercould inflict injury on the Spaniards, whom he so bitterly detested, he did so with eagerness. A Spanish ship was soon seen, chased, and--after a brief, hot fight--surrendered and was boarded. 

"Egad!" cried Raleigh. "Here's luck, for the cargo's of fire arms. I'll stow them away in my own vessel and let the captive go!"

Proceeding on his voyage, he not long afterwards encountered andcaptured another prize; a Flemish ship sailing homeward with a cargoof fine wine. Twenty hogsheads were transferred to the hold ofRaleigh's ship and the captured craft was allowed to sail on, --empty. 

Things continued to go well. The Island of Trinidad (off Venezuela)was reached at last. The natives were friendly and told of vastdeposits of gold far up the river Orinoco. "But would Raleigh notplease besiege the Spanish town of St. Joseph?" said they, "and rescuesome of their chiefs whom the Spaniards held prisoners--in chains. "

"I always strike a Spaniard when I can, " said Raleigh. "On, men, we'llsack this proud city!"

St. Joseph speedily fell into his hands. The chiefs were released. They were so gratified, that they paddled him far up the river, wherethey found glittering gold, which they tore out of rocks with theirdaggers. The Englishmen were delighted, and, collecting a mass ofnuggets to show to those at home, they put back to the ships, setsail, and were soon in England again. 

The people were astonished at this exploit, but the jealous courtiersdid all they could to deprive Raleigh of the renown which was justlyhis due. 

"What this fellow has told is a lie, " whispered they into the ears ofgood Queen Bess. "There is no such place as Guiana. Raleigh has beendown upon the coast of Spain and hidden himself. He has not crossedthe Atlantic at all. "

Which proves that no one can ever do anything adventurous withoutstirring up the hammers of the Envious: the Little Men. Is it not soto-day? Look around! You can hear the carping critic at any time thatyou may wish! _Do_ something _big_, sometime. Then put your ear to theground and listen!

But the sea called for the fifth time. A vast English fleet was hurledagainst the Spanish at Cadiz, --a great English fleet, accompanied byan army. England was bound to get even with the Spaniards for daringto launch the supposedly invincible Armada against them--and SirWalter eagerly sailed for the coast of Spain. 

The harbor of Cadiz was seen to be fairly jammed full of statelygalleons and men-of-war. Arranged in compact rows, close to shore, just below the towering and frowning castle of Cadiz; they wereprotected, on either side, by fortresses, whence heavy guns peepedforth to defend them. There were nearly sixty large vessels in all, four of which were galleons, and twenty of which were galleys:well-manned and well-armed with small cannon. There were many moreships than in the attacking fleet. 

It was the evening of June the 20th, 1596. The British vessels rapidlysailed into the harbor, Raleigh leading, in the flagship, the _WaterSprite_; behind him the _Mary Rose_, commanded by his cousin, SirGeorge Carew; and the _Rainbow_ under Sir Francis Vere. All were eagerfor the fray, and it was not long before their approach was observedby the Spanish fleet. Instantly a huge galleon, the _SaintPhilip_--the largest in the Spanish Navy--swung out of her position, followed by the _Saint Andrew_, second only to her in size. 

"They're coming to meet me!" cried Raleigh--joyously. 

Instead of that, the galleons sailed for a narrow strait in theharbor--followed by the rest of the Spanish fleet--and cast anchorjust under the stout fortress of Puntal. They arranged themselves inclose array and awaited the attack of the English. 

The English fleet anchored, but at daybreak, the impetuous Raleighbore down upon the formidable mass of hulking galleons. The sun raysstreamed over the old, Spanish town, gilding the pinnaces and spiresof the churches, shining brightly upon the flapping pennons ofBritisher and Don. The white sails flapped, spars creaked and groaned, the sailors cheered, and--in a moment--the cannon began to bark, likewolf hounds. The fight had begun. 

Raleigh was the incarnation of battle. Passing rapidly from point topoint upon the deck of his vessel, he encouraged and urged on his men, exposed himself as freely as the rest; and whenever a man faltered, there he appeared to urge the faint heart on with words of inspirationand hope. 

_Roar! Roar! Roar! Zoom! Zoom! Crash!_

The arquebusses spittled and spat; cannon growled; and iron crashedinto solid oak planking. 

The orders were not to board until the fly-boats (long, flat-bottomedvessels with high sterns) came up, which were manned by Dutch allies. For three hours the battle raged, but the fly-boats did not arrive. The Earl of Essex--the commander of this expedition--now ordered hisflagship to pass through the advance line of vessels, and make the wayto the front. Raleigh was chafing with rage because the fly-boats didnot come, yet, in spite of the danger of being shot, he jumped into alight skiff, and was rowed over to the galleon of Essex. 

"I'll board the _Saint Philip_, " cried he, "if the fly-boats do notsoon arrive. Even though it be against the orders of the Admiral. Forit is the same loss to burn, or to sink, and I must soon endure one orthe other. "

"Go ahead!" yelled Essex, over the bow. "I'll second you, upon myhonor!"

Raleigh hastened with all speed to the deck of the _Water Sprite_, where his men were pounding away at the Spanish galleons with alltheir might and main. No sooner had he mounted the poop, than he saw, with anger, that two vessels of his own squadron had forced themselvesinto a position in front of his own; for their commanders wanted towin first honors in this battle at sea. 

Raleigh, himself, wished to have the honor, just like other seacaptains in later battles. But, --that's another story. 

So, the gallant seaman ran the _Water Sprite_ between the two otherships and took up his position as leader. Sir Francis Vere of the_Rainbow_ was resolved to keep in front as well as Raleigh. 

As the _Water Sprite_ passed him he slyly cast a rope to a sailor, whotied it to her stern, and his own vessel thus kept abreast of thelumbering galley of his chief. "But, " writes Sir Walter, "some of mycompany advising me thereof, I caused the rope to be cast off, and soVere fell back in his place, where I guarded him--all but his veryprow--from the sight of the enemy. I was very sure that none wouldoutstart me again for that day. "

The guns of the fort appeared to be silent and the big galleons layapparently helpless in the face of the valiant enemy. Raleigh movedon, but, as he was about to clutch his splendid prize, it escaped him, for the Spaniards--finding that they would be captured--made haste torun the _Saint Philip_, and several of her sister ships, aground onthe sand. 

"Blow them up!" came the order. 

The Spanish sailors and soldiers came tumbling out of the ships intothe sea in heaps--"as thick as if coals had been poured out of a sackinto many pots at once. " Then a terrific roar boomed forth. The airwas filled with flying splinters, canvas, iron, and lead. The portionsof the galleons were now floating upon the waves and the water wasalive with the struggling bodies of the Spaniards as they desperatelyendeavored to save themselves. 

The spectacle was lamentable. Many drowned themselves. Many, halfburned, leaped into the water; while others hung by the ropes' ends;by the ships' sides; under the sea, even to their lips. "If any manhad a desire to see Hell, itself, " wrote Sir Walter, "it was theremost lively figured!"

Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!

The English sailors were cheering, for victory was theirs, and of allthe gallant warriors of that day, Raleigh had been the mostpersistently daring and heroic. 

"The _Saint Andrew_'s still afloat, good Sire!" cried one of hissailors at this moment. 

"Then we'll take her!" cried Raleigh. 

She was boarded and captured with little difficulty, while yet anothergalleon--the _Saint Matthew_--fell into his hands. These were the onlyvessels of all that proud Spanish fleet which had escaped the flames. 

Raleigh, himself, had been severely wounded in the leg, but he refusedto release the command of his ship. He gave orders that all livesshould be spared, and although these mandates were rigidly obeyed bythe English soldiers, the Dutch cruelly slaughtered many of theirhapless prisoners, for their hatred of the Spaniards was bitter andsavage. 

Cadiz had not yet fallen and Raleigh was determined to go on shorewith the troops and witness the taking of the town, in spite of hiswound. A litter was prepared for him--he was lowered into one of theboats--rowed ashore, carried upon the shoulders of some of hisfaithful soldiers, and witnessed the furious struggle which nowensued. Cadiz fell. Although the lives of the people were spared; thecastle, fortifications and the greater part of the town itself, wereburned and demolished. If you go there, to-day, you will still findthe marks of this great and stirring strife. 

There was nothing left but to put the Spanish prisoners aboard thegalleons, collect the plunder, and set sail for England. When thefleet again swung into the little harbor of Plymouth it was receivedby the people with wildest enthusiasm and delight. All England rangwith the praise of the valor and courage of her heroes, for Spain hadbeen stripped of her ability to injure her English rival and England'spower was supreme upon the sea. Raleigh and his comrades had donethis, --and the descendants of Raleigh and his comrades have continuedto uphold the supremacy. Hurrah for Raleigh!

But how about those jealous courtiers? They were still around--Oh, yes!--And Raleigh was greeted at court as coldly as when he haddeparted with the fleet. He had been deprived of his office of Captainof the Queen's Guard, and even his bravery at Cadiz did not win thisback for him. Nor did he receive any of the spoil which had been wonby himself and his comrades. Even Queen Bess was angry because hershare of the booty taken from Cadiz was not as great as she had hopedfor. 

"What the Generals have got, " wrote Sir Walter, "I know least. For myown part, I have got a game leg, and am deformed. I have received manygood words and exceedingly kind and regardful usage; but I havepossession of naught but poverty and pain. "

Not long afterwards the old Queen was persuaded to write Sir Walter tocome to court, and thus he and his wife, whom Elizabeth had alsoforgiven, appeared daily in the brilliant throng which clustered inthe halls and corridors of the Royal Palace. He was restored to hisold office of Captain of the Queen's Guard and rode forth again in allthe splendor of his uniform, at the side of the sovereign. 

The rest of Sir Walter's life can be briefly narrated. With Essex hetook part in a successful expedition to the Azores, where theycaptured many ships, and with him divided much booty and fame. ButEssex became too ambitious and started a conspiracy to place himselfupon the throne of England. It was a failure. He was captured by theQueen's soldiers--a part under Sir Walter himself--was tried, andexecuted for High Treason. 

Queen Bess soon died and was succeeded by a man who disliked SirWalter from the start. This was James the First of Scotland--a "dour"fellow--who charged the valorous knight with treason, for it wasalleged that he had conspired, with Lord Cobham, to place theyouthful Arabella Stuart upon the throne. He was tried, convicted, andthrown into the Tower, where he lived for twelve long, tedious years. Think of it! A fellow of his venturesome and restless spirit forced toremain in a dungeon-keep for such a time! Weep for brave Sir Walter!This was fine treatment for a patriot!

But the jealous courtiers did not weep. Oh no! _They_ laughed. 

When gallant Sir Walter was thrown into the Tower (for he had notplotted against the King) he was a hale and stalwart cavalier offifty-two. He was released--after twelve years--when his hair andbeard were grizzled, his face worn and wrinkled, his body somewhatbent, and his features grave and sorrowful. With what tearful joy heclasped to his breast his ever faithful wife and his two sons! Atsixty-four his brave spirit was still unshaken; his ardent andrestless ambition was as keen as ever. 

He went forth with the sentence of death still hanging over his head;for King James, although giving a grudging consent to his release, hadrefused to pardon him. And he went forth with the understanding thathe should lead an expedition to the coast of Guiana in South America;there to attack the Spaniards and gain plunder, gold, and jewels. Ifsuccessful he was to go free. If non-successful, he was to sufferpunishment--perhaps death!

The expedition was a failure. The Spaniards and natives were wellaware of his coming, for 'tis said that King James, himself, sent themnews of the expedition. 

"If I go home it's off with my head, " said Sir Walter. "But I'll riskit. "

Don't you think if you had been Sir Walter, instead of sailing toEngland where you knew that a headsman's axe awaited you, you wouldhave coasted by the shores of the Chesapeake Bay and dropped offquietly where is the home of the canvas-back and the terrapin! Juststepped into one of the jolly-boats and peacefully drifted ashore on adark night?

I think that you would have been strongly inclined to do so, --but_you_ are not Sir Walter Raleigh. _He_ was a lion-hearted adventurer. 

Opportunity after opportunity came to him to escape to the shores ofFrance. He let them go by, but, when he found that his enemiesdemanded his trial for treason, he thought it high time to get away. He learned that a French envoy had arranged to get him to France andhad a barque for this purpose. A certain Captain King had found asmall boat commanded by one of Sir Walter's old boatmen, which lay atTilbury awaiting his orders. It was arranged by Raleigh's guard--oneStukeley--that he should be rowed to the little lugger on the eveningof Sunday, August the 9th, 1618. The latter was sent up the Thamesriver to Gravesend. 

At the hour designated, Raleigh, Captain King, Stukeley and his sonHart, with a page, jumped into two small wherries in order to row tothe lugger. They had just shoved off, when keen Sir Walter saw anotherboat push out from the bank and follow them. 

"How's this?" said he to Stukeley. 

But silent Stukeley did not answer. 

The boat rowed fast, but the pursuing craft moved with equal speed. The tide was singing and gurgling in a mad flow, and it becamedoubtful whether the wherries could reach Gravesend under theprotection of darkness, for day was breaking, and the whirling watermade progress very slow. 

At last--seeing that they could not get away--the shallops were forcedto turn about and retrace their passage. The pursuing boat swung, also--like a shadow of the first. Sir Walter's heart beattumultuously. 

When the fugitives reached Greenwich--Stukeley stood up and appearedin his true colors. Laying a hand upon the shoulder of faithfulCaptain King, he cried--

"I arrest you in the name of our Monarch, James First!"

Raleigh looked around in anger and dismay. 

"Stukeley, " he said with heat, "you are a trait'rous cur. Theseactions will not turn out to your credit!"

But the knave laughed derisively, --so derisively that the commonpeople dubbed him "Sir Judas Stukeley. " And it well suited him. Didn'tit?

The boatmen rowed directly to the Tower and the boat which had pursuedthe wherries--which contained a courtier named Herbert (to whomStukeley had betrayed the projected escape)--followed them close. Thesoldiers in her (for they had been well hidden) escorted the dejectedSir Walter to the grim walls of the dungeon. 

There was now no hope for that gallant adventurer: the man hadbrought honor and renown to England. He was tried for Treason:condemned: executed. 

As he stood waiting for the axe to fall, he said:

"I have many sins for which to beseech God's pardon. For a long timemy course was a course of vanity. I have been a seafaring man, asoldier, and a courtier; and, in the temptations of the least of thesethere is enough to overthrow a good mind and a good man. I die in thefaith professed by the Church of England. I hope to be saved, and tohave my sins washed away by the precious blood and merits of ourSaviour, Jesus Christ. "

A quick shudder ran through the multitude when Sir Walter had ceasedto live, and many groaned aloud at the horrible sight. One stoutyeoman cried out angrily, "We have not had such another head to be cutoff. "

The crowd separated slowly, muttering and crying out against theenemies of the valiant man; while his friends, who were present, parted with tears coursing down their cheeks. 

And the jealous courtiers said: "Magnificent!" It was now their turnto shout. And they did it, too. 

 * * * * *

So, you see, Sir Walter Raleigh's patriotism was paid for by death. The trouble with him was, he was too much of a man. 

_Nowadays_--when a soldier or sailor does something for England--theygive him a Hip! Hip! Hurray!

He is appreciated. He is presented with titles, honors, and a warmreception. 

_Then_, when a man did something for England, those in power gave himthe cold shoulder; the icy stare. 

That's the reason why England's sons will do something for her now. Ifshe had kept treating them as she did Sir Walter Raleigh she wouldn'thave many of them around when it came to a fight. _And, some day, she'll need them all!_

So when a fellow does something really great, don't greet him withfrozen silence. _Cheer! He needs it! Besides, --it won't hurt you!_

_Give a tiger and three times three!_

THE VANISHED SAILORS

 Say, sailors, what's happened to young Bill Jones? Jones of Yarmouth; the bright-cheeked boy? Jones who could handle a boat like a man, Jones, who would grapple a smack like a toy?

 "_Fell o'er the sea-end with Raleigh. Ahoy!_"

 Well, sea-dogs, where's Thompson of Yarmouthport dock? The chap who could outwit old Hawkins, they say, The man with th' knowledge of charts and of reefs, There wasn't his equal from Prawle to Torquay. 

 "_Fell o'er the sea-end with Raleigh, to-day!_"

 Where's Rixey of Hampton; Smith of Rexhill? Who'd coasted and traded from London to Ryde, Huggins and Muggins, all seamen of worth, Who could jibe and could sail, sir, when combers were wide?

 "_Fell o'er the sea-end with Raleigh. Last tide!_"

 Well, seamen, when that day shall come near, When the salt sea is moved from its bed, Some will there be, who can give us the news, Of all that brave band, whom Adventure has led To

 "_Fall o'er the sea-end with Raleigh, 'tis said!_"

 "Such is the man, Whom neither shape nor danger can dismay, Nor thought of tender happiness betray; Who, not content that worth stands fast, Looks forward, persevering to the last, From good to better, daily self-surpassed. "

 --_Ballads of the Day. _

JEAN BART

THE SCOURGE OF THE DUTCH

(1650-1702)

 As long as selfishness remains a Human Passion, --Warfare will continue. 

JEAN BART

THE SCOURGE OF THE DUTCH

(1650-1702)

 "'What means that canvas, Skipper? It's bearing down to port, And it drives a blackish barquentine, with every topsail taut, There're guns upon her poop deck. There're cannon near her bow, And the bugler's bloomin' clarion, it shrills a how-de-row?' The skipper took a peep at her, his face turned ashen pale, His jaw began to tremble, and his knees began to fail, As the flag of France swung to the breeze and fluttered without check, 'Jean Bart!' he gurgled weakly, and fainted on the deck. "

 --_Rhymes of The Dutch Channel Fleet. _--1676. 

The good ship _Cochon Gras_ boiled along off the coast of Normandyunder a full spread of canvas, for the breeze was light, and was fromthe southward. A boy of sixteen stood at the helm. He was well bronzedby exposure to the elements; was sturdy and strong. His dark hairwaved luxuriantly about a face in which keenness and shrewdness wereeasily to be seen. His name was Jean Bart and he had been born atDunkirk in France. 

The Captain of the _Cochon Gras_ strode about upon the deck below. Hewas in an evil mood and his voice showed his ill feeling. 

"Put the helm over!" he shouted to the steersman. "Don't you see thatyour sails aren't half full! Boy, will you never learn!"

Jean Bart obeyed. 

"Very good, my Captain!" said he. "Very good, my Monsieur Valbué. "

And, at this, the captain scowled, for he was in a beastly temper. 

"I am glad that you act quickly, " said he. "You know nothing. Byacting quickly you will learn a thing or two. _Tiens!_ Be speedy! Bevery quick! Be like the Bishop of Oléron!"

He smiled and lurched against the rail. 

"Ah, this good prelate was a true seaman, " said he. "He knew the tideslike a mackerel. He knew as much as I do, myself, and that is saying agood deal. "

Jean Bart chuckled at the vanity of Monsieur Valbué. 

"The good Bishop was standing on the rocks upon a stormy evening, "continued the captain, "when he saw some fisher boats making for theharbor. One of them was bearing too close to the shore. One of themwas going to go upon the rocks. One of them was steered by a poorfellow who knew neither the reefs nor the shoals. 'Voilà!' cried thegood bishop. 'Voilà! I will save this dull-witted sailor. ' And, forthwith, what do you think that he did, --?"

A small knot of seamen had, by this time, collected around thetalkative captain. They all shook their heads. 

[Illustration: JEAN BART. ]

"Fools, " cried Captain Valbué. "Fools! Why, he strode into the sea, ofcourse. Being a pure man of God and a member of the true church, hewalked upon the surface of the water. The boat coming in was manned byHuguenots, by unbelievers, mark you! By fellows who had neither thesense nor the grace to be members of the true church. _They_ could notwalk upon the water. Oh! No! But the good Bishop _he_ walked as easilyas a stormy petrel, for he was a man of God. And, as he reached theboat he made the sign of the cross, saying, 'Beware of the rocks whichyou sail down upon! Bear off to the left! When you see the red buoy, bear to the right, and then come home by keeping your bow pointed forthe spire of the big church!' And they did so. They were saved by thegood Bishop, whom I know well. As for me. I would have let the foolishHuguenots get their just deserts. It would have been one heretic lessand good riddance. "

At this one of the seamen was plainly angered. 

"Piff!" said he. "Piff!" That was all. But Monsieur Valbué had noticedit and Monsieur Valbué grew angry in a moment. Seizing a half-emptycider mug, from which he had been drinking, he hurled it at the headof the fellow who had made the remark. 

"You dog of a Huguenot!" he roared. 

The seaman dodged, and the cider mug spun into the planks of a jollyboat. Then he stepped forward and said, "Captain Valbué, the Laws of Oléron, under which we sail, say that youcannot and must not strike a seaman with any missile. I, Lanoix, willstrike back if you hit me. "

But Monsieur Valbué was like a bubbling tea-pot. Seizing ahand-spike, he shot it out at the man who knew the law. 

"The Laws of Oléron allow me just one blow, " blubbered Captain Valbué. "Just as the laws of England allow each dog one bite. "

As luck would have it, he missed his shot. 

Lanoix leaped over the iron rail which separated the forecastle fromthe after part of the vessel. Then he turned around. 

"Follow me here, you coward!" he shouted to the captain, "and I willhave the right to crack you through the middle. Consult the Laws ofOléron under which we sail and see if they do not back me up!"

"The laws be blowed!" yelled Monsieur Valbué, now beside himself withrage. And, leaping across the rail he struck the Huguenot two sturdyblows in the face. 

Jean Bart, meanwhile, steered the ship: looked on; and said nothing. 

R-i-i-p! There was a flash, a blow, and a cry of pain. A large, keenknife was clenched in the strong right hand of Lanoix, and the captainwas running red, with a deep gash in his shoulder. 

"Down with the Mutineer! Down with the dog!" came from the throats ofthe members of the crew who had clustered about the two enraged men, smiling at the little affair. 

With a rush they were upon the Huguenot; had forced him to the deck;and wrested the knife from his hand. But, before it was wrenched fromhis fist, the blade had pierced the body of a seaman and had felledhim to the boarding. 

"Bring up the Laws of Oléron, " cried Captain Valbué, when the Huguenothad been secured. "Bring up the Laws of Oléron from my cabin, and letus see whether or no I was right, when I struck this prating Lanoix!"

The cabin-boy dove below and was soon again upon the deck. 

"The law shall be read, " cried the captain. "Out with it!"

Now, aboard the vessel was one Antoine Sauret--a good, oldboatswain--a friend of the father of Jean Bart, and a courageous man. 

"The law shows you to be in the wrong, " said he. 

"Yes, " cried Jean Bart from the wheel, which he had not left. "Youwere, and are, in the wrong. " Monsieur Valbué glowered at them. 

"I am the law, " said he. "Is this not my vessel?"

"But the right is on his side, " interrupted the good Antoine Sauret. 

"You wait and see what I do to this cur of a Huguenot, " snarledCaptain Valbué. "And no more talk from either you or Jean Bart. Hear!Six out of eight of the crew agree that this Lanoix has wounded me andhas slain one of his ship-mates--without proper provocation--I willnow fix him. "

And this he did in the most approved manner. 

Lashing his victim's arm to a sharp sword tied to the windlass, heknocked the unfortunate Lanoix upon the deck with a hand-spike. Then, tying him--still alive--to the dead sailor whom the Huguenot hadkilled when the crew rushed upon him, --he cried out:

"Throw 'em both to the fishes!"

They were seized. 

"One! Two! Three! Heave Away!" sounded from the throats of theFrenchmen. 

Lanoix and the dead sailor spun out above the blue water. A splash. Agurgle of white foam, and the Atlantic closed above them. 

Seamen--you witness--were brutes, in these merry days of privateering. But hear the sequel of the gruesome story!

Jean Bart and the good boatswain Sauret had, from that moment, no highopinion of the Laws of Oléron. So, when the vessel touched at Calais, upon the coast of France, they walked up to the captain, saying:

"Sir. We wish to leave you! We cannot sail any longer beneath yourorders. "

The brutal Valbué scowled. 

"Go!" said he. "And good riddance. "

But when the circumstances of the death of the two men were reportedto the authorities, the captain was tried. 

"The Law of Oléron, " said the Judge to him, "acquits you, for theHuguenot sailor was in the wrong to draw his knife, when you struckhim only with your fists. But it is a bad law and must be changed. "

Here he turned to young Jean Bart and the good Sauret. 

"As for you two, " said he, "I most highly commend you for protestingagainst the brutality of this captain. Would that all the sailors ofFrance were as good as both of you. If they were, there would be lesstrouble aboard ship. Again I commend you!"

So--feeling very happy, indeed--young Jean Bart went out into thestreet. Though only sixteen he had been right in his attempt to savethe life of poor Lanoix. Good for young Bart! Hats off to the sailorlad of sixteen who was more merciful than the cruel Law of Oléron! Andthis brutal set of rules was soon changed to the Maritime Code ofFrance, which gave seamen some right to defend themselves against theattacks of rough and overbearing captains. Thus Jean Bart had startedthe ball rolling in the right direction. Again hats off to thedoughty, young Frenchman!

Not long after this event the Dutch fell out with the English andbegan a smart little war. Jean Bart hastened to the scene of action, enrolled in the Dutch cause, and fought with them for five full years. Then the Dutch began to make war upon the French (in 1672), but thiswas too much for the patriotic sentiments of the youthful volunteer. 

"Ah!" said he. "When my own people are attacked, I must hasten totheir assistance. The Dutch have paid me well 'tis true, but now Iscorn their gold. Vive la France!"

So saying, he returned to Dunkirk, speedily found employment, and wentto sea again--not in a man-of-war, but in a privateer. He was nowfour-and-twenty; was wiry, tough, and well used to battling both withmen and with the elements. The boat he sailed in mounted only two gunsand had a crew of thirty-six. She was named after a famous personageof Biblical history: _King David_, and she conducted herself asskilfully as did that ancient monarch, for was not Jean Bart at thehelm?

Cruising out upon the treacherous waters of the North Sea, it was notlong before a vessel was sighted that was of such small tonnage thatBart was not afraid to give chase. He slapped on all canvas, put hishelm hard over, and steered for the dancing bit of canvas. The _KingDavid_ was a swift sailer, and soon the bow-gun spoke from the deck ofthe French privateer, sending a challenging shot whistling close tothe stern of the stranger, who flew the flag of the States General(the Dutch Republic) with which the French were now at war. 

The stranger did not relish the challenge, and came to in a hurry, while her flag fluttered weakly to the deck. 

"She's ours!" cried Jean Bart, gleefully. "And without a fight. Hurrayfor the life of a privateer!"

Quickly ranging alongside, the stranger was seen to be a valuableprize, laden with tea, spices, and cotton. She was manned by a smallcrew and sent to port. 

"Now off for other luck!" cried Jean Bart. 

Luck was with him, too. In four months cruising in the EnglishChannel, near the Belgian coast, he captured six prizes; all withoutany fighting. The Dutch trading vessels of those days must have beenwithout guns and poorly manned, for it should have been easy to standoff a crew of but thirty-six, with only two cannon aboard. JeanBart--you may be sure--was well satisfied. He was now rich, quitefamous, and keen for further adventure. 

So well did the owners of the privateer _King David_ think of him, that they now put him in charge of a larger vessel named _La Royale_, carrying about eighty men and ten guns. 

"Go out and win!" cried the chief owner of this privateer. "Jean Bart, you are followed by the best blood of France. Your men are all fromDunkirk!"

And Jean Bart smiled. 

"Watch me!" said he. 

Cruising near the coast of Holland in company with a small Frenchgun-boat, he fell in with a man-of-war--the _Esperance_--carryingtwelve guns and about one hundred and twenty men. 

"Now we'll have a real fight!" cried the youthful French commander ashe cleared decks for action. "Men, see to it that your swords aresharpened for there may be some boarding!"

Then he signalled to the little French gun-boat to follow him and givebattle. This ally carried about a hundred men and six cannon. 

"Poof! Poof!"

The heavy guns of the Dutchman were the first to speak and they barkedaway like fat Newfoundland watch-dogs. 

"Poof! Poof! B-o-o-m!"

Jean Bart reserved his fire until within about seventy-five yards andthen he gave the command, "Fire away! Aim low! And try to hull her!"

A sheet of flame sprang from the ten guns of _La Royale_ and asplitting of boards and crackling of splinters showed that the ironmissiles had punctured the stout sides of the _Esperance_. 

"Pop! Pop! Crash!"

The other French vessel now threw her lead into the stern of thedefender of the flag of the States General and her mizzen-mast wasseen to rock like an unfastened May pole. 

"Whow!"

The _Esperance_ was not slow in answering back and her twelve gunsspat like leopards in the brush. She filled away and bore towards theland, but the French gun-boat saw this move and checkmated it. 

Sailing across her bow, the Frenchman raked her fore and aft, whilethe rub-a-dub-dub of Jean Bart's guns went drumming against herstarboard side. Crash! Crash! Crash! Her boards were split, hermizzen-mast was swaying, and her rigging was near cut in two. Men werefalling fast and two of her guns had blown up and were rendereduseless. 

"Surrender!" came a sharp hail from the lusty throat of Jean Bart, and, as he spoke, a perfect hail of grape came from his French ally, now creeping up to port for a chance to grapple and board. 

"What can I do?" sighed the stout, Dutch commander, turning to one ofhis lieutenants. "Boy, haul down our flag!"

So down came the emblem of the States General amidst ringing cheersfrom the throats of the followers of Jean Bart. They had won a notablevictory. 

When the _Esperance_ was towed and half-sailed into Dunkirk harbor, old Antoine Sauret was there. 

"Ah, my friends, " said he, "I always told you that my boy, Jean Bart, would make a great name for himself. Three times three for the greatprivateer of Dunkirk!"

And all the bystanders joined in right willingly. 

Not long after this event, our hero's ship was lying in the harbor ofBergen in Sweden. The captain of an English vessel met him on shore, and, after having a chat with him, remarked:

"I hear that you have quite a reputation for fighting your ship. I, too, am a sea warrior and would like to have a little affair with you. My own vessel is of about the same tonnage as yours, so that we couldmeet upon even terms. Will you join me?"

"I would be delighted, " answered the war-like Jean Bart. "If you waittwo days I will be ready for you and will fight you three miles offthe coast. Meanwhile I must lie here and take on some stores which aremuch needed by both men and guns. "

The Englishman smiled. 

"You are a man after my own heart, " said he. "Good-by until we meet inbattle. "

Three days after this, Jean Bart sent a boy to the English vessel witha note for the captain. It ran:

 "I am ready to fight you to-morrow. Meet me three miles beyond the breakwater and may the best man win. Until then--good luck. 

 "Yours for battle, "JEAN BART. "

The boy came back bearing a return missive from the Englishman, whowrote:

 "MONSIEUR BART: I am delighted to learn that you want to fight me, and will do so. You are indeed a brave man. But--before we go for each other's throats--pray let us breakfast together. Will you therefore take your morning meal with me, to-morrow, in my own cabin, aboard my ship? I shall expect you. 

 "Yours to count on, "MIDDLETON. "

"I do not want to accept, but I will, " mused Captain Bart. "TheseEnglish fellows are far too polite. "

So, next morning, he was rowed to the British vessel and was soonbreakfasting with his red-faced opponent. 

After the meal the Frenchman lighted his pipe, took a few puffs, andsaid:

"Monsieur, I have greatly enjoyed this peaceful repast. But it is nowtime for me to go and sharpen my boarding-pike. I must bid you adieu. "

The Englishman smiled. 

"No, " said he. "You cannot go. You are my prisoner!"

Jean Bart still smoked. 

"You are too quick!" he answered, slowly. "There you are wrong. I amnot your prisoner, for I see a barrel of gunpowder on the deck, and, if you do not release me immediately, I will blow up your ship!"

The Englishman turned pale. 

"Watch me!" cried Jean Bart. 

Leaping from his seat, he rushed to the deck, lighted a match from hispipe, and held it directly over the mouth of a barrel of gunpowder, from which someone had pried the head. 

"Lay on! You cowards!" he yelled. "Lay on, and we'll all go to theLand of the Hereafter together. "

His cry was heard upon his own vessel, which--with sails up--laywaiting for him. 

In a moment her bow was turned towards the British ship which wasstill at anchor, with sails unhoisted. In a moment she dropped downalongside--and--in less time than it takes to tell--the Frenchmen hadbrought her upon the port quarter, and were swarming across the deckto rescue their bold captain. 

Taken by surprise, the English put up a plucky fight, but they were nomatch for the infuriated men of Dunkirk. They were soon overpowered. The captain was taken prisoner, and the vessel was considered alegitimate prize of war, because of the trick which Middleton hadattempted to play upon Jean Bart. When--in a few days--the prize wassailed into Dunkirk harbor--the Englishman well wished that he had notattempted to capture the most able privateersman of all France. 

The fame of this exploit spread over the land, and gave rise to aditty, which ran:

 "If you want to catch Jean Bart, sir, A slippery, slimy chap, Don't bait him with gunpowder, For he's sure to miss the trap. You must splice him down with chains, sir; You must nail him to the deck. Put a belt around his middle, And a collar 'round his neck. Even then you cannot hold him, For he's certain to get through, While his sailors sing a song, sir, With a Cock- a- doodle- doo!"

In July, 1675, Jean Bart was married, but he did not remain long onshore. Three weeks after this auspicious event he once more put to seaand captured a number of Dutch fishing boats, which he allowed thecaptains to ransom for large sums of money. 

This was a very convenient arrangement, for it saved him the troubleof putting part of his own crew on board and sending the boats toport. But the owners of _La Royale_, upon which he sailed, did notcare for his methods of procedure. 

"You cannot do this in future!" said they. "And you must forfeit halfof what you took to us!"

Jean Bart obeyed, but he was very angry. It is even said that heuttered "a round seaman's oath. "

So successful was he, in fact, that he was given a much larger vesselin 1676. This was a frigate--the _Palme_--with twenty-four guns and acrew of one hundred and fifty men. Sailing into the North Sea with twosmall French gun-boats, he soon fell in with three Dutch privateersand eight armed whaling vessels. He attacked, and the battle raged forthree long, bloody hours. 

When the smoke and the fumes of sulphur burned away, Bart had boardedthe largest privateer, while his two consorts had taken the eightwhalers. The other Dutch privateers found it too hot for their likingand scudded for the coast, firing their stern-guns derisively as theydisappeared. It was a great victory, and again the French coast rungwith salvos for Jean Bart, while the old sea-dogs shrugged theirshoulders, saying:

"Ah! Ha! Did we not tell you that Dunkirk bred men of bone and marrow. Ah! Ha!"

But Jean Bart was not happy. 

"Would that I could meet a foe of my own force, " he used to say. "Either a man-of-war or a privateer, I don't care which. I want to tryit on with one of my own size and strength. "

His wish was soon to be gratified. 

On September 7th, 1676, he was pointing the _Palme_ towards theBelgian coast-line, when he sighted a number of sail on the starboardquarter. He headed for them; scanned the white dots through a glass, and saw that this was a fishing fleet of small, unarmed luggers. Buta big, hulking Dutch frigate hovered in their rear, and thirty-twoguns pointed their brown muzzles menacingly from her open port-holes. She was the _Neptune_ and she lazed along like a huge whale:omnipotent and self-satisfied. 

"Ah ha!" cried the delighted Jean Bart. "Now I have met an enemy thatis worthy of my steel. Up with the flag and sail into yonder Dutchman. We have but twenty-four guns to her thirty-two, but are we to be awedby this show of force? Be ready, my boys, to have the stiffest fightin your careers!"

The Dutchman was equally well pleased when he saw who was coming forhim. 

"Here is Jean Bart, the pirate and privateer, " he cried. "For threeyears I've been hoping to have a fight with him and now my chance hascome at last. I am fortunate, for I can pay him back for all thedamage that he has done to Dutch commerce. Shoot low, my hearties, anddo not fail to hull our enemy. Let your war-cry be: 'Down with JeanBart and his pirate crew!'"

"Hurrah!" shouted his men. 

And an answering

"Hurray!" came from the _Palme_. These opponents were as eager to getat each other as two prize-fighters of modern days. 

_Crash!_ roared a broadside from the Dutch frigate as her flag wentaloft, and splash, splash, splash, went her shells around the sides ofthe privateer. 

"Sail in close!" yelled Jean Bart. "Hug her to leeward for awhile, then cross her bows, rake her, get her wind, and board. "

"Hurray!" shouted the men of Dunkirk, and a rattle, rattle, roar camefrom the port guns of the _Palme_. 

Around and around swung the sea gladiators and the little fishingboats luffed and tittered on the waves like inquisitive sparrows. 

"Bart cannot win!" said several of their skippers. "For he'soutweighted and outnumbered!"

But Bart was fighting like John Paul Jones. 

Around and around went the two opponents, guns growling, men cheering, sails slapping and ripping with the chain and solid shot. Again andagain Jean Bart endeavored to get a favorable position for boardingand again and again he was forced to tack away by the quick manoeuvresof the Dutchman. 

"Fire into her rigging!" he now thundered. "Cripple those topsails andI can bring my boat alongside. "

"_Crash! Crash! Crash!_"

Volley after volley puffed from the side of the rolling _Palme_. Volley after volley poured its lead and iron into the swaying riggingof the Dutchman, and, with a great roaring, ripping, and smashing, themizzen topmast came toppling over the lee rail. 

A lusty cheer sounded from the deck of the _Palme_. 

"She's ours!" cried Jean Bart, smiling. 

Instantly he spun over the wheel, luffed, and brought his boat uponthe starboard quarter of the Dutchman, who was now part helpless. Ittook but a moment to run alongside, and, in a moment more, the_Palme_ was lashed to the _Neptune_ in a deadly embrace. Smoke rolledfrom the sides of both contestants and the roar of the guns drownedthe shrill cries of the wounded. The Dutchmen were now desperate andtheir guns were spitting fire in rapid, successive volleys; but manyof them were silenced, as the great, brown side of the _Palme_ rubbedits planking against the splintered railing of the shattered_Neptune_. 

As the vessels were securely bound together, Jean Bart seized aboarding-pike, a brace of pistols, and, giving the helm to a sailor, leaped into the waist of his ship. 

"Board! Board!" he shouted. 

A wild yelp greeted these welcome sounds. As he vaulted over the railof his own ship to the deck of the stranger, a motley crew ofhalf-wild sea-savages swarmed behind him. They had cutlasses andboarding-pikes, and their faces were blackened with powder. Their eyeswere reddened with sulphurous fumes and their clothes torn withsplintered planking. They rolled over the gunwales like a huge wave ofirresistible fire: pistols spitting, pikes gleaming, cutlassesglistening in the rays of the sun. 

The captain of the _Neptune_ lay near his own wheel, grievouslywounded. 

"Lay on, men!" he shouted. "Don't let this French privateer beat us. We will be disgraced. "

But his sailors were no match for the onrush of these fiends fromDunkirk. They fell back like foam before a sea squall. 

"Then down with our flag, " cried the captain of the Dutchman. "But, ye gods, how it hurts me to give the order. "

A sailor seized the halyards and pulled the ensign to the deck, and, as it fell upon the reddened planking, a wild, frenzied cheer camefrom the French privateers. 

"Jean Bart, forever! France forever! Jean Bart forever!" they cried. 

"Up with the French flag!" yelled Jean Bart, laughing like a boy. "Upwith the white lilies of France. "

And, as a spare ensign ran aloft, the little fishing luggers scuddedfor the shore. 

"After them, men!" cried Captain Bart. "Our work is not yet over. Wemust have the lambs as well as the old wolf. "

So, sail was soon clapped on the _Palme_, she headed for the fleeingboats, and, with a few well directed shots, hove them to. Then theywere told to follow behind and head for France, which they did--but, oh! how it did hurt!

It was a proud moment for Jean Bart, and his eyes danced with pleasurewhen he sailed into Dunkirk with the captured _Neptune_ and the fleetof fishing boats. 

"Voilà!" cried the townspeople. "Jean Bart is a true hero. Voilà! Heshall have the freedom of the city. Voilà!"

The fame of this gallant exploit soon spread abroad and the kingshowed some desire to see this courageous privateersman. 

"I would have him at court, " said he to his minister Colbert. "For Iwould reward him. "

When news of this was brought to the privateersman he was naturallydelighted, and, travelling to Versailles, was ushered into thepresence of his Majesty. 

"Here is a gold chain for you, " said the king. "I trust that you willkeep it in recognition of my appreciation of your gallant conduct. Iwould be glad, indeed, to have you in the Royal Service. Would you nottake a commission?"

"You overwhelm me, " answered the valiant sea-fighter, blushing. "I--I--I--am quite disconcerted. But--if it would please your Majesty, I believe that I would prefer to remain a simple privateer. It is afree life and it suits my roving nature. "

The king chuckled. 

"So be it, " said he. "But my good sir, keep yourself in readiness fora commission. I may need you in the Royal Marine!"

"Very good, Sire!" said Jean Bart, and, bowing low, he withdrew. 

But he did not get away without an adventure, --quite as exciting asany he had had aboard the rocking decks of one of his privateer ships. 

The fame of Jean Bart had stirred up a number of enemies, for, when aman is successful in life, are there not always a hundred unsuccessfulfellows who stand about and scoff?

Among these were a few followers of the sea who had determined tomake way with this too fortunate privateer. One--Jules Blanc byname--even decided upon murder, if Jean Bart would not agree to leavethe privateering business to himself and his companions. 

As the sailor from Dunkirk left the presence of the king he wasaccosted by one of his old acquaintances. 

"Ha, Jean Bart, " said he. "Come with me to the Inn. Have a glass withme, my boy, for I see that the king has richly rewarded you. Youdeserve it, for you have done well, and you must be tired from yourjourney. Come, let us dine together?"

Suspecting nothing, the gallant privateer followed his companion quitewillingly, and, when he arrived at the Inn, was not surprised to findseveral other seamen from Dunkirk and the neighboring seaports ofFrance. They greeted him warmly. 

"To your health!" cried they, raising their glasses of wine. "To thehealth of the bravest privateer in all of France. "

Jean Bart was delighted. He smiled like a child, seated himself attheir table, and began to drink with these jovial men of the sea. 

As he sat there, suddenly a paper was mysteriously shoved into hishand. He did not see from whence it came, and, as he scanned itscontents, his face grew strangely pale. 

"Beware of these fellows, " he read. "They mean to kill you if you donot do what they wish. Beware!"

Jean Bart soon regained his composure. 

"Come! Let us go to the dining-room up-stairs, " said the friend whohad first accosted him. "Come, my boys! We will there have far morequiet!"

All moved for the door. 

Jean Bart moved, also, but before he went up-stairs, he loosened hissword-belt and cocked two pistols which he carried at his waist. Hewas not surprised when he saw them lock the stout door as they enteredthe room upon the second floor. 

When they were all seated Jules Blanc arose. His face well exhibitedhis dislike for the successful privateersman, Jean Bart. 

"Now, my friend, " said he, facing the man from Dunkirk, "we have youhere with a purpose. We wish you to know that we are determined thatyou shall no longer go to sea and spoil our own business for us. Youhave had enough success. We want you to withdraw and give some oneelse a chance. "

Jean Bart smiled. 

"We think that you should retire for we want some pickings forourselves. "

"And if I refuse?" queried Jean Bart. 

Jules Blanc placed his hand instantly upon his sword-hilt. 

"Then--there will be trouble!"

"Poof!" said Jean Bart. 

As he spoke, all drew their rapiers. 

"Again Poof!" said Jean Bart. 

As he spoke, a thrust came from his right. He parried it, leaped upona chair, and stood there smiling. 

Crack! There was the sound of a pistol and a bullet whizzed by hisear. 

Then there was a sudden and awful _Crash!_ The room was filled withdust. 

When the startled sea-dogs looked about them Jean Bart no longer stoodupon the table. He had disappeared through the window. And brokenglass with splintered fastenings was all that remained of the onceperfect glazing. 

"He has gone, " said Jules Blanc. "Fellow seamen, we are outdone. "

But Jean Bart was a quarter of a mile away, laughing softly tohimself, as he sped along the highway which led to quiet Dunkirk. 

Things went well with him, also, for his employers--appreciating hispast services--now gave him command of a larger ship than the _Palme_:the _Dauphin_, with thirty guns and two hundred eager and adventuroussailors from the northern coast of France. 

Sailing forth from Dunkirk harbor, on June 18th, 1678, Jean Barteagerly scanned the horizon with his glass. With him were two smallerprivateers, so that he felt well able to cope with any adversary fromHolland. His keen glance was soon to be rewarded, for when but twodays from port he spied a sail upon the starboard bow. It was a Dutchfrigate--the _Sherdam_--of forty guns and manned by many stout dogs ofthe sea. Her captain--André Ranc--was a keen fighter and a man ofwell-tried courage. 

"Bear off to leeward!" signalled Jean Bart to his privateercompanion. "Then we will get the stranger between us, fasten to her, and board her from either side. "

The flag of the French privateer dipped back an answering, "Allright!" and, as she was nearest to the Dutchman, she attacked at once. 

"_Poom! Poom!_" went the Dutch cannon, like the beating of a churn inthat land of canals and cheese-making. And _piff! piff!_ answered thelittle howitzers of the privateer. 

But Jean Bart meant to have a quick fight, so he bore down tostarboard, wore ship, and ran so close to the enemy, that hisgrappling irons soon held her fast. In a moment more his own vesselwas hauled alongside. 

Meanwhile the smaller French privateer had spanked over to larboard;had run up upon the opposite side of the lumbering Dutchman; and hadalso gripped her. A wild, nerve-wracking cheer went up, as--sword inhand--Jean Bart led his boarders over the side of the Dutch vessel. 

Ranc was badly wounded but he led his men to a counter assault withcourage born of desperation. Cutlasses crashed together, boarding-pikes smashed and hacked, and pistols growled and spatteredin one discordant roar. Back went the Dutch sailors fighting savagelyand bluntly with all the stubbornness of their natures, then back theypushed the followers of Jean Bart, while Ranc called to them:

"Drive these French curs into the sea!"

[Illustration: "JEAN BART LED HIS BOARDERS OVER THE SIDE OF THE DUTCHVESSEL. "]

But now the other privateer had made fast, and her men came clamberingover the rail, with cutlass, dirk, and pistols. 

"We're outnumbered, " Ranc shouted, his face showing extreme suffering. "Haul down the flag! Had Jean Bart been here alone I could havetrounced him well. "

Thus reluctantly and sadly the flag of the _Sherdam_ came down. Butthe French had paid well for their victory. 

Jean Bart was badly wounded in the leg; his face was burned by thedischarge of a gun, which went off--almost in his eyes--just as heleaped on board the _Sherdam_. Six of his men were killed andthirty-one were wounded, while the little privateer that had fastenedto the other flank of the huge _Sherdam_, was a total wreck. So well, indeed, had the Dutch fighters plied their cannon as she approached, that she was shattered almost beyond repair. With great difficulty shewas finally towed to shore. 

Of course all France again rang with the fame of Jean Bart, while thecrafty sea-dogs who had endeavored to capture the slipperyprivateersman were furious with envious rage. But Jean Bart hummed alittle tune to himself, which ran, "You'll have to get up early if you want to catch Jean Bart, You'll have to get up early, and have a goodly start, For the early bird can catch the worm, if the worm is fast asleep, But not if it's a privateer, who can through a window leap. "

This invincible corsair was also not idle, for in two weeks' time hewas again at sea in the _Mars_ of thirty-two guns, and a fast sailer. Eagerly looking for prizes, he cruised far up the coast of Holland andwas keenly hunting for either merchantman or frigate, when a smallvessel neared him, upon which was flying a white flag. 

"A truce!" cried Jean Bart. "The war must be over. "

When the little boat drew nearer, a fat Dutchman called out somethingwhich sounded like, "Amsterdam yam Goslam!" which meant, "Peace hasbeen declared, " in Dutch. 

So Jean Bart sailed back into the sheltering harbor of Dunkirk withtears of sorrow in his eyes, for he loved his exciting life. 

"Helas!" said he. "It is all over!"

Thus, indeed, ended the career of Jean Bart as a privateer captain. InJanuary, 1679, he was given the commission of lieutenant in the Frenchnavy, but, although he accepted, he was never happy in this service. From captain to lieutenant was a decided come down, and besides this, the aristocratic officers of the Crown made life very unpleasant forone who had entered their ranks from privateering. 

"Bah!" said they. "He is only a commoner!" And they would turn uptheir titled noses. 

But--mark you this!

Several hundred years have passed since those days, and Jean Bart'sname is still remembered. Who remembers the names of any of thesetitled nobles who held commissions from his Majesty, the King ofFrance?

I do not think that any of you do. Certainly I do not. 

Therefore, there is a little lesson to be learned, and it is this:

Never sneer at the fellow who accomplishes things, if he be of humblebirth. _His_ name may go down to history. _Yours_ probably will not. 

So, the next time that you are tempted to do this, think it over. Ifyou do, you will not say, "Pish, --the Commoner!" But you will say, "Well done! The Hero!"

So, good-by, Jean Bart, and may France produce your like again, if shecan!

 "Keep these legends, gray with age, Saved from the crumbling wrecks of yore, When cheerful conquerors moored their barques Along the Saxon shore. "

 --THOMPSON. 

DU GUAY-TROUIN

THE GREAT FRENCH "BLUE"

(1673-1736)

 "Self trust is the essence of Heroism. "--PLUTARCH. 

DU GUAY-TROUIN

THE GREAT FRENCH "BLUE"

(1673-1736)

 "He's only a scurvy Democrat, his blood is hardly blue, Oh, Sacre Nom de Dieu! Sapristi! Eet is true! Yet, he fights like the Maid of Orleans, with dirk and halberd, too, Oh, Sacre Nom de Dieu! Sapristi! Eet is true! Then--what'll you think, good gentlemen, you men of the kingly pack, Ye sons of Armand the Terrible, ye whelps of Catouriac, Shall _he_ gain the royal purple? Shall _he_ sit in the ranks with us? Shall _he_ quaff of our golden vintage, shall _he_ ride in the royal bus? Nay! Nay! For that would be te-r-r-ible! Nay! Nay! _That ill-born cuss?_ Par donc! but that is unbearable! 'Twould result in a shameful fuss! Pray, let him remain a Democrat--The cream of the fleet for us. "

 --_Song of the French Royal Marine. _--1695. 

"You _must_ be a churchman, Rénee, " said the good Luc Trouin, turningto his little son. "I have always had a great ambition to have a childof mine in the church, and I feel that you are in every way qualifiedfor the position of a prelate. "

But little Rénee hung his head. 

"Look up, boy, " continued the amiable Frenchman. "I know that you arenot now pleased with the idea, but--later on--after you have had moreexperience, I feel sure that you can thank Heaven that your goodfather started you in the right and proper direction. "

Still, little Rénee hung his head. 

"Tut! Tut!" continued the old man. "You will leave, to-morrow, for thecollege at Rheims, and, after you have been there but a short time, Ifeel sure that you will like it. Tut! Tut!"

But still little Rénee hung his head. 

Again came the amiable "Tut! Tut!" and the chuckling Luc Trouinwandered off into the garden to see how well the potatoes weregrowing. 

But little Rénee still hung his head. 

And--in spite of the fact that little Rénee went to the Divinityschool at Rheims, he continued to hang his head. He hung his head forthree years. Then, news was brought to him, one day, that the good LucTrouin was dead, and, instead of holding his handkerchief to his eyesto wipe away the tears, as one would expect of him, little Rénee burstinto loud laughter. 

"At last, " cried he, "I can get away from the church and go to sea. Atlast my freedom has come!"

And it was not many hours before little Rénee was scudding away fromthe school of Divinity, like a clipper-ship under a full spread ofcanvas, before a rousing sou'west breeze. 

For at least two hundred years before the birth of bad, little Rénee, the Trouin family had been well known and prosperous in the Bretonseaport of St. Malo. For many years a Trouin had been consul atMalaga, Spain; and other members of the house had held excellentpositions with the King, so little Rénee had no reason to be ashamedof his forebears, in spite of the fact that his people were of the"bourgeoisie:" ship-owners, traders, smugglers, privateers, andmerchants. And, as they were of the "bourgeoisie, " they were somewhatlooked down upon by the proud and haughty aristocrats who fawned aboutthe weak and dissipated King. 

Little Rénee was the son of Luc Trouin and Marguerite Boscher but hewas called Du Guay-Trouin, in later years, and the reason for this isplain. For--in accordance with the custom of the time--he was sent tobe nursed by a foster mother who resided in the little village of LeGué. So he was called Trouin du Gué; which shortly became DuGuay-Trouin. 

"I've come home, mother, " shouted little Rénee, when he had ploddedhis weary way which lay between his temporary prison and the house ofhis parents. "I've come home, mother, and I'm going to sea!"

But his mother did not take any too kindly to this bold and valiantidea. 

"You must study law, " said she, with great firmness. And--in spite ofthe fact that little Rénee begged and pleaded--he was forced to giveup his idea of seafaring life for the dry drudgery and routine of aclerk at law. He was now about sixteen years of age. 

"The law is dry and my spirits are high, " youthful Rénee is said tohave carolled as he spent his first few hours at a lecture, "andwhatever may be I'm going to sea. "

At any rate, he soon got into trouble and engaged in three duels inhis sixteenth year, in one of which his assailant gave him a seriouswound. This was too much for even his stern mother to bear, so, summoning a family council, she gave forth the following opinion:

"Rénee has failed as a student of Divinity. Rénee has failed as astudent of law. Rénee has entirely too high spirits. Rénee shall, therefore, be placed in one of the family ships and sent to sea. "

And to this decree Rénee is said to have cried: "At last! Hurray!" forhe longed for action. 

In a very short time little Rénee had a taste of that war andadventure which he craved, for a historian writes that:

"During the first three months of this cruise his courage was tried bya violent tempest, an imminent shipwreck, the boarding of an Englishship, and the threatened destruction of his own vessel by fire. Thefollowing year, still as a volunteer, he displayed the greatestpersonal courage and won much fame in an engagement which his ship hadwith five merchant vessels. "

"Ah ha, " said little Rénee, "this is indeed life. I am having a goodtime. "

So well did those higher in command feel towards the youthful sailor, that, at the age of eighteen, he was actually put in charge of theship _Danycan_ of fourteen guns, --for France was at war with England, Holland, and Spain, and to him who could strike a quick and well-aimedblow there were "nice pickings" to be had. And the reckless youngsea-dog found some "nice pickings" in Ireland, for, he landed an armedparty upon the coast of County Clare, where he pillaged a village, burned two ships at anchor, and escaped to his own vessel withconsiderable booty and family heirlooms of the peasants, who said, "Och, Begorra! We'll be afther that wild bhoy before many suns, andspank him for his unseemly whork. "

But the French cried "Voilà! Here, indeed, is a brave youngBourgeois, " and promptly raised him to the command of the _Coetquen_of eighteen guns, in which he soon went cruising, accompanied by asister-ship, the _St. Aaron_. 

Prowling around the English channel, the skulking sea-hounds soon cameacross two small English men-of-war with five valuable merchantmenunder their sheltering wings. 

"All ready for the attack!" shouted Du Guay-Trouin. "We'll makemince-meat of those foreign hulks, in spite of the fact that they areprotected by two men-of-war. "

And, crowding on all sail, his own vessel and the _St. Aaron_ quicklybore down upon the Englishmen, who, seeing them approach, hove-to foraction. 

The engagement was short. After a few broadsides had been delivered, the English struck, the prizes were taken over, and all started forthe coast of France. But suddenly a cry went up, "Sail ho! Sail ho! off the starboard bow!"

"Ta Donc, " cried the surprised Du Guay-Trouin. "It is a bigman-of-warsman and a Britisher too. We must give up our prizes, Ifear. Clap on all canvas and we'll hie us to shore. "

So all sail was hoisted, and, steering for the shoals and rocks offLundy Island--where he knew that the heavy Englishman could notfollow--Du Guay-Trouin soon outdistanced and outwitted the_Centurion_: a line-of-battle ship and a formidable opponent. The richprizes had to be left behind. 

Honorable appointments crowded upon the daring, young sea-dog, afterthis affair, and we find him successively in command of the _Profond_, of thirty-two guns; the _Hercule_, of twenty-eight guns, and the_Diligente_ of thirty-six guns and two hundred and fifty sailors, which was a King's ship borrowed for privateering and run onshares, --the monarch to have a certain part of the winnings. 

Like partners in business the _Diligente_ and _Hercule_ now wentcruising, and it was not long before the two harpies swooped down upontheir prey in the shape of two Dutch East Indiamen, armed withtwenty-five guns each, and manned by rotund-bodied Dutchmen. There wasrich treasure aboard, and, with eagerness and zeal, the Frenchmenslapped on all canvas in pursuit. 

Now was a hot chase. Mile after mile was passed, and slowly but surelythe Frenchmen gained upon the lumbering foe. Then suddenly, --

_Crash!_

A ball screamed above the head of Du Guay-Trouin, and a Dutchmanhove-to for battle. 

"Crawl in close, " cried the valiant Frenchman, "and don't let go abroadside until you can hit 'em below the water line. Try to scuttlethe Dutch lumber merchant!"

His men obeyed him willingly and soon there was a muffled roar as thefirst broadside spoke in the still air. Another and another followed, and the Dutchman trembled like an aspen leaf. 

"Hah, " shouted the enthusiastic Rénee, "up goes the white flag!"

Sure enough, the vessel struck, and aboard of her was the Dutchcommodore. But the _Hercule_ was beaten off by the second Dutchman, and, as the privateers boarded the captured vessel, the East Indiamanshowed a clean pair of heels, under a cloud of bellying canvas. 

Du Guay-Trouin was delighted. "On we go, Boys, " he cried, "for we'llsail these waters until we strike another prize. " And this is whatsoon happened. 

On May the 12th, the _Diligente_ was cruising alone, when, suddenlysix white dots appeared upon the horizon, and six Britishships-of-the-line were soon closing in upon the venturous Frenchnavigator and his crew. 

"Ye Gods, " cried the doughty Frenchman, "we're in for it now, but wewill give them a lively bout even though we'll get the worst of it. "

And here is how he has described the battle:

"One of the English ships named _Adventure_ first overtook me, and wemaintained a running fight for nearly four hours, before any other oftheir ships could come up. . . . 

"At length my two topmasts were shot away; on which the _Adventure_ranged up alongside me, a short pistol-shot off, and hauled up hercourses. Seeing her so near, it occurred to me to run foul of her andboard her with my whole crew. Forthwith I ordered such of the officersas were near to send the people on deck, got ready the grapnels, andput the helm over. 

"We were just on the point of hooking on to her, when unfortunately, one of my Lieutenants, looking out through a port and seeing the twoships so close together, took it into his head that there was somemistake, as he could not think that--under the circumstances--I hadany intention of boarding; and so, of himself, ordered the helm to bereversed. 

"I had no idea of what had been done, and was impatiently waiting forthe two ships to clash together, ready to throw myself on board theenemy; but seeing that my ship did not obey her helm, I ran to thewheel, and found it had been changed without my order. 

"I had it again jammed hard on; but perceived, with the keenestvexation, that the captain of the _Adventure_, having guessed by theexpression of my face what I had meant to do, had let fall hiscourses, and was sheering off. We had been so near that my bowsprithad broken his taffrail; but the mistake of my Lieutenant made me losethe opportunity of one of the most surprising adventures ever heardtell of. 

"In the determination I was in to perish or to capture this ship, which was much the fastest sailor of the squadron, it was more thanprobable that I should have succeeded, and should thus have taken backto France a much stronger ship than that which I abandoned. And, notto speak of the credit which would have attached to the execution ofsuch a plan, it is quite certain that--being dismasted--there wasabsolutely no other way for me to escape from forces so superior. "

But closer--always closer--crowded the British war-dogs, and thevalorous French seamen became panic stricken. "We are outnumbered andoutfought, " cried many, and, deserting their guns, they fled below tothe holds, in spite of the vigorous protests of Du Guay-Trouin. 

"I was busy trying to put a stop to the panic, " says he. "I had cutdown one and pistolled another, when, to crown my misfortune, firebroke out in the gun-room. The fear of being blown up made itnecessary for me to go below; but, having got the fire put out, I hada tub full of grenades brought me, and began throwing them down intothe hold. 

"By this means I compelled the deserters to come up and to man some ofthe lower deck guns; but, when I went up on the poop, I found, to myastonishment and vexation, that some cowardly rascal had takenadvantage of my absence to haul down the colors. 

"I ordered them to be hoisted again; but my officers represented thatto do so would be simply giving up the remnant of my ship's company tobe butchered by the English, who would give no quarter if the flagwere hoisted again, after being struck for so long, and that furtherresistance was hopeless as the ship was dismasted. "

"Never give in, for"--cried Du Guay-Trouin, whose democratic blood wasnow up, but he did not finish the sentence as a spent shot thenknocked him senseless. And--as he fell--the white flag went aloft, forhis officers had not his fighting spirit. 

"Ah ha, " laughed the English jack-tars. "We've got the French rascalat last, and we'll hold him too. "

So little Rénee was imprisoned in a nice, dark dungeon, --the kindwhich the English used to put their poor debtors in. But--like a trueman of courage--little Rénee escaped, took to a smuggler's skiff, andmade off to the coast of France, where he arrived on the 18th of June, 1694, and was received right boisterously by the Trouin family. 

"My son, " spoke his aged mother, "you were indeed not intended for thelaw, for lawlessness seems to be your particular fancy. "

So the delighted Trouins put him in charge of a splendid privateersmanmounting forty-eight guns, sailing under the simple name of_Francois_, and, as she forged valiantly into the English channel, herskipper chanted an old French song, which ran, --

 "Sons of St. Malo, hark to my lay, With a Heave! Ho! Blow the man down. For we'll capture a lugger ere close of the day, With a Heave! Ho! Blow the man down. 

 "She's filled with gold nuggets, her crew is asleep, Then board her, and take her, for dead men are cheap, We'll spike them and pike them, like so many sheep. With a Heave! Ho! Blow the man down. "

It was not long before a sail was sighted, and, on the 12th day ofJanuary, 1695, the stout, little _Francois_ overhauled a solitarytimber ship, loaded with huge trees, bound to England from the goodtown of Boston in New England. She was an easy capture, and, DuGuay-Trouin smiled with joy when her skipper said:

"Three other lumber ships are in the offing. But they are under convoyof the frigate _Nonsuch_ with forty-eight guns, and the _Falcon_ withthirty-eight cannon. Look out my bold sea-dog, there'll be trouble. "

But the French mariner laughed. 

"It's just what I'm searching for, " said he, and forthwith he swungthe stout _Francois_ in wide circles, with look-outs at everymast-head. 

"Sail ho!" shouted the watch, next morn, and there, off the port bow, were the three merchantmen strung out in a line, with the twoprotecting gun-boats to windward. 

Like a greyhound the _Francois_ swept down upon them, and with theaudacity of despair, the privateersman of St. Malo ranged alongside ofthe _Falcon_ and opened fire. The engagement was short. In an hour'stime the guns of the Englishman were silent and a white pennonfluttered from the mizzen-mast. 

The _Nonsuch_, meanwhile, had been ranging to windward in a vainendeavor to bring her guns to bear upon the Frenchman withoutcrippling her own mate, and--as the _Francois_ drifted away from thelurching _Falcon_--she bore down to within twenty yards, luffed, andspanked a rakish broadside into the privateer. 

"Board her!" shouted Du Guay-Trouin. "Board her!" and, bringing thewheel close around, he swung the bow of the _Francois_ into the sideof the Englishman. But, as the sailors scampered to the bulwarks withcutlass and with dirk, a sheet of flame burst from the port-holes ofthe drifting _Nonsuch_. She was afire. 

"Luff! Luff!" cried the keen-eyed French mariner, and the _Francois_drew away as the red flames curled upward with a cruel hiss. 

With a swift turn the helm again spun over, under the quick hand of DuGuay-Trouin, and the _Francois_ was jibed about in order to run underthe port bow of the Englishman. 

"Hold, Captain!" cried a French Lieutenant. "We, ourselves, areafire!"

As he spoke--a direful cloud of vapor rolled from the starboardquarter. 

"Alack!" answered the now furious Rénee. "This puts an end to thefighting of this day, and we'd soon have had the second Britisher. Allhands below and bucket out this fire!"

So, as night fell upon the rolling ocean, the _Falcon_ lay driftinghelplessly, while the _Nonsuch_ and the _Francois_ were burning liketwo beacons upon a jutting headland. 

As day broke, the _Francois_ filled away (for the fire had beenextinguished after an hour's toil) and ranged within striking distanceof the _Nonsuch_. A broadside belched from her starboard guns and ananswering roar came back from the cannon of the Englishman. The foreand main masts of the _Nonsuch_ trembled for a moment--then totteredand fell--while the gallant Captain, struck in the chest by a flyingpiece of shell, fell dying upon the deck. Du Guay-Trouin againattempted to board, at this moment, but the third mast was shaking andhe was forced to sheer off lest the tangle of yards and rigging shouldfall and crush his vessel. He hung within hailing distance of thecrippled sea-warrior, and, seeing that his antagonist was nowhelpless, cried out through his trumpet:

"Run up the white flag, or I'll give you a broadside that will sinkyou. "

No answering hail came from the deck of the battered _Nonsuch_, butthe piece of a torn, white shirt was soon fluttering from the tangledrigging of the foremast. Thus the gallant Rénee had defeated twowarships of equal strength, and had captured vessels with a rich andvaluable cargo. Now, don't you think that this fellow was a doughtysea rover? And, although the English made many excuses, the fact stillremains that a single privateer had conquered double her own force ina fair and open fight upon the high seas. 

The sturdy _Francois_ could just barely drift into St. Malo--so badlycrippled was she--but the rest came safely to port, in spite of ahard gale which blew down the masts of two of the lumber boats. Anddoughty Rénee refitted the _Nonsuch_, transferred his flag to her, called her the _Sans-Pareil_, and flung his flag defiantly from hermast-head in spite of the fact that she was "made in England. " AllFrance was agog over his exploit. 

Now, know you, that doughty Rénee was a "Blue;" a "Blue" being a manof the people (the bourgeoisie) who were not of aristocratic birth. And, as the French Royal Marine was the most exclusive body ofofficers in the world, birth and station being necessary foradmittance therein, the titled office-holders threw up their handswhen Du Guay-Trouin's name was mentioned for a place of command, saying, --

"Why, he's only a beastly Democrat. Pooh! Bah! We do not care to havesuch a fellow among us. " And they shrugged their shoulders. 

The officers of the French Royal Marine wore red breeches, and, if bychance a democrat were given a commission, he had to appear in bluesmall-clothes throughout his entire career. Very few of the "Blues"ever came to be an Admiral, for the odds were too great against them. 

But Rénee had done so bravely and well that a sword was sent him bythe King, who wrote, --

"Should you wish a commission in the Royal Navy, good sir, it shall beyours. "

And to this, Du Guay-Trouin replied, --

"I feel that I can do better where I am, Most Gracious Majesty. Iwill remain a Privateer. " For Du Guay-Trouin wished to accumulateriches, as his forebears had done. 

So, cruising down the coast of Ireland, he fell in with three EastIndiamen, whom he captured with ease, and, piloting them to St. Malo, declared a dividend of two thousand pounds ($10, 000) a share, to thestockholders in his staunch vessel. And the value of the shares wasbut one hundred pounds ($500) each. Would not the men of Wall Streetlove such a fellow in these piping times of peace?

A month later we find him cruising in the Bay of Biscay, where--in thedead of night--he ran into a great English fleet, roving about for justsuch vessels as the _Sans-Pareil_ and eager for a broadside at theFrench privateer. But young Rénee--for he was now twenty-three--had notlost his nerve. "There was no time, " he wrote, "for hesitation. I hadtwo valuable prizes with me and ordered them to hoist Dutch colors andto run away to leeward, saluting me with seven guns each as they went. 

"Trusting to the goodness and soundness of the _Sans-Pareil_ I stoodtowards the fleet, as boldly and as peaceably as if I had really beenone of their number, rejoining them after having spoken the Dutchmen. Two capital ships and a thirty-six gun frigate had at first left thefleet to overhaul me; but, on seeing what I was doing, the shipsreturned to their stations; the frigate--impelled by her unluckyfate--persisted in endeavoring to speak the two prizes, and I saw thatshe was rapidly coming up with them. 

"I had by this time joined the fleet, tranquil enough in appearance, though inwardly I was fuming at the prospect of my two prizes beingtaken by the frigate; and, as I perceived that my ship sailed muchbetter than those of the enemy who were near me, I kept away little bylittle, at the same time forereaching on them. Suddenly, bearing up, Iran down to place myself between the prizes and the frigate. 

"I should have liked to lay aboard of her and carry her in sight ofthe whole fleet; but her captain, being suspicious, would not let meget within musket-shot of him, and sent his boat to help me. But, whenthe boat was half way, her people made out that we were French, andturned to go back; on which, seeing that we were discovered, I hoistedmy white flag and poured my broadside into the frigate. 

"She answered with hers; but, not being able to sustain my fire, shehauled her wind, and with a signal of distress flying, stood to meetthe captain's ship, which hastily ran down towards us. As they stoppedto render her assistance, and to pick up her boat, I was able torejoin my prizes, and, without misadventure, to take them to PortLouis. "

Again France rang with acclaim for the hero of this bold exploit, andagain the King offered a commission to the gallant sea-dog. But DuGuay-Trouin shook his head. 

"Perhaps I will become an officer in the Royal Marine later on, " saidhe. "But not now. I am too happy and successful as a Privateer. "

He was quite right, for in March, 1697, was his greatest exploit. 

While busily scanning the horizon for sail in the _St. Jacques desVictoires_, upon the thirteenth day of that auspicious month, he sawupon the horizon, a cluster of vessels. They drew near and proved tobe the Dutch East India fleet convoyed by two fifty-gun ships and athirty-gun sloop-of-war. With him was the _Sans-Pareil_ of forty-eightguns, and the little sloop-of-war _Lenore_, mounting fourteen. Thehostile squadron was formidable, and Du Guay-Trouin hesitated toattack. 

In command of the Dutch vessels was Baron van Wassenaer, one of afamily of famous sea-fighters from Holland, and he manoeuvred hisships with consummate skill; always interposing his own vessel betweenthe French privateer and his fleet of merchantmen. 

"Ah-ha, " cried gallant Rénee, at this moment. "Here come some of myown boys. "

And--sure enough--from the direction of France, and boiling alongunder full canvas, rolled two privateersmen of St. Malo. Cheer aftercheer went up from the deck of the _St. Jacques des Victoires_, asthey pounded through the spray, for this made the contending partiesabout equal, although the Dutch boats were larger, heavier, and theyhad more guns aboard. 

The Dutchmen now formed in line. In front was the flagship--the_Delft_--with her fifty guns glowering ominously from the port-holes;second was the thirty-gun frigate; and third, the other war-hound offifty guns: the _Hondslaardjiik_. Through a trumpet Du Guay-Trouinshrilled his orders. 

"The _Sans-Pareil_ will attack the _Hondslaardjiik_, " cried he. "Thetwo privateers will hammer the frigate, while I and the _St. Jacquesdes Victoires_ will attend to the _Delft_. The _Lenore_ will sail inamong the convoy. Fight, and fight to win!"

A fine breeze rippled the waves. The two squadrons were soon at eachothers' throats, and there upon the sobbing ocean a sea-fight tookplace which was one of the most stubborn of the ages. 

As the Frenchmen closed in upon the Dutch, the _Hondslaardjiik_suddenly left the line and crashed a broadside into the _St. Jacquesdes Victoires_. It staggered her, but she kept on, and--headingstraight for her lumbering antagonist--ran her down. A splitting oftimber, a crunch of boards, a growl of musketry, and, with a wildcheer, the Frenchmen leaped upon the deck of the Dutch warship; DuGuay-Trouin in the lead, a cutlass in his right hand, a spittingpistol in the left. 

_Crash! Crackle! Crash!_ An irregular fire of muskets and pistolssputtered at the on-coming boarders. But they were not to be stopped. With fierce, vindictive cheers the privateers of St. Malo hewed apassage of blood across the decking, driving the Dutchmen below, felling them upon the deck in windrows, and seizing the commanderhimself by the coat collar, after his cutlass had been knocked fromhis stalwart hand. The Dutchman was soon a prize, and her proud ensigncame fluttering to the decking. 

But things were not going so well in other quarters. Disaster hadattended the dash of the _Sans-Pareil_ upon the _Delft_. An explodingshell had set her afire and she lay derelict with a cloud of driftingsmoke above, when suddenly, _Crash!_

A terrible explosion shook the staunch, little vessel, her sidesbelched outward, and a number of sailors came shooting through theair, for a dozen loose cartridge boxes had been caught by the roaringflames. Helplessly she lolled in the sweep of the gray, lurchingbillows. 

"Hah!" shouted Van Wassenaer, as he saw his work. "Now for the saucyDu Guay-Trouin, " and, twisting the helm of the _Sans-Pareil_, he soonneared the _St. Jacques des Victoires_, which was hanging to the_Delft_ like a leech, firing broadside after broadside with clock-likeprecision, her sea-dogs cheering as the spars crackled, the riggingtore; and splinters ricochetted from her sides. 

"Ready about!" cried Rénee, wiping the sweat from his brow, "and boardthe _Hondslaardjiik_. Now for Van Wassenaer and let us show theDutchman how a privateer from St. Malo can battle. "

So, luffing around in the steady breeze, the privateersman rolledominously towards the lolling _Delft_. A crash, a sputter of pistols, a crushing of timber, and grappling hooks had pinioned the twowar-dogs in a sinister embrace. And--with a wild yell--the Frenchmenplunged upon the reddened decking of the flagship of the courageousVan Wassenaer, who cried, "Never give in, Lads! What will they thinkof this in Holland!"

There was a different reception than when the privateers rushed the_Hondslaardjiik_. The Dutch fought like wildcats. Three times thecheering, bleeding Frenchmen stormed the planking, and three timesthey were hurled back upon the slippery deck of their own ship;maddened, cursing, furious at their inability to take the foreigner. "The conflict was very bloody both by the very heavy fire on bothsides, of guns, muskets, and grenades, " says Du Guay-Trouin, "and bythe splendid courage of the Baron Van Wassenaer, who received me withastonishing boldness. "

"Bear away, " ordered the courageous Dutchman, at this juncture. "Wemust have time to recover and refit our ship. "

And--suiting the action to his words--the badly battered _Delft_filled, and crept well to leeward. 

Meanwhile the two privateers of St. Malo had captured the frigate asshe lay helpless; a white flag beckoning for a prize crew. 

"The _Faluere_ will attack the _Delft_, " shouted Du Guay-Trouin, running near the largest of these; a ship of thirty-eight guns. "Imust have time to breathe and to refit. "

But stubborn Van Wassenaer was ready for his new antagonist. Hereceived the privateer with such a furious fire that she turned tailand fled to leeward; her captain bleeding upon the poop, her crewcursing the blood which ran in the veins of the valorous Hollander. 

[Illustration: COMBAT BETWEEN DU GUAY-TROUIN AND VAN WASSENAER. ]

Du Guay-Trouin had now recovered his breath. Again the bellying canvasof the _St. Jacques des Victoires_ bore her down upon the _Delft_, andagain the two war-dogs wrapped in deadly embrace. Hear the invincibleFrenchman's own account of the final assault:

"With head down, " he writes, "I rushed against the redoubtable Baron, resolved to conquer or to perish. The last action was so sharp and sobloody that every one of the Dutch officers was killed or wounded. Wassenaer, himself, received four dangerous wounds and fell on hisquarterdeck, where he was seized by my own brave fellows, his swordstill in his hand. 

"The _Faluere_ had her share in the engagement, running alongside ofme, and sending me forty men on board for reinforcement. More thanhalf of my own crew perished in this action. I lost in it one of mycousins, first Lieutenant of my own ship, and two other kinsmen onboard the _Sans-Pareil_, with many other officers killed or wounded. It was an awful butchery. "

But at last he had won, and the victorious pennon of the Privateerfluttered triumphant over the battered hulks which barely floated uponthe spar-strewn water. 

"The horrors of the night, " he writes, "the dead and dying below, theship scarcely floating, the swelling waves threatening each moment toengulf her, the wild howling of the storm, and the iron-bound coastof Bretagne to leeward, were all together such as to try severely thecourage of the few remaining officers and men. 

"At daybreak, however, the wind went down; we found ourselves near theBreton coast; and, upon our firing guns and making signals ofdistress, a number of boats came to our assistance. In this manner wasthe _St. Jacques_ taken into Port Louis, followed in the course of theday by the three Dutch ships-of-war, twelve of the merchant ships, the_Lenore_, and the two St. Malo privateers. The _Sans-Pareil_ did notget in till the next day, after having been twenty times upon thepoint of perishing by fire and tempest. "

Thus ended the great fight of Rénee Du Guay-Trouin, whose blood, yousee, was quite as blue as his breeches. 

 * * * * *

"Again, " wrote His Majesty the King, "do I offer you a commission inthe Royal Navy, Du Guay-Trouin. Will you accept? This time it is aCaptaincy. "

"I do, " replied little Rénee, --quite simply--and, at the next dinnerof the officers of the Royal Marines, they sang a chorus, which ran:

 "Oh, yes, he's only a Democrat, his blood is hardly blue, Oh, Sacre Nom de Dieu! Sapristi! Eet is true! But he's a jolly tar dog, with dirk and pistol, too, He fights like William the Conqueror, he fights! Egad! that's true! A health to Rénee the terrible; soldier and sailor too. "

EDWARD ENGLAND

TERROR OF THE SOUTH SEAS

(1690?-_about_ 1725)

 "A Privateer's not a Buccaneer, but they're pretty chummy friends, One flies a reg'lar ensign, there's nothing that offends. One sails 'neath Letters Legal, t'other 'neath Cross-Bones, But, both will sink you, Sailor, or my name's not Davy Jones. "

 --_Old Ballad. _

EDWARD ENGLAND

TERROR OF THE SOUTH SEAS

(1690?-_about_ 1725)

 "If England wuz but wind an' paint, How we'd hate him. But he ain't. "

 --_Log of the Royal James. _

"Hit him with a bottle, he deserves it, th' brute!"

The man who spoke was a thick-set sailor of some forty-five summers, with a swarthy skin, a brownish mat of hair, a hard visage, and a cutacross one eye. He stood upon the deck of a good-sized brig, which wasdrowsily lolling along the coast of Africa. 

"Yes, he treated us like dogs aboard th' _Cuttlefish_. Here, give me ashot at 'im. "

Thus cried another sailor--a toughish customer also--and, as his voicerang out, a dozen more came running to the spot. 

Cringing before the evil gaze of the seamen stood the Captain of aBristol merchantman--the _Cadogan_--which lay a boat's length away, upon the glassy surface of a rocking sea. 

Again rang out the harsh tones of him who had first spoken. 

"Ah, Captain Skinner, it is you, eh? You are the very person I wishedto see. I am much in your debt, and I shall pay you in your own coin. "

The poor Captain trembled in every joint, and said, with a curiouschattering of his teeth, "Yes, Edward England, you've got me now. But go easy like, will yer? Ialways was a friend o' yourn. "

"Yer didn't look like a friend on th' old _Jamaica_, when you refusedto pay me my wages, " interrupted the first speaker. "Yer didn't removeme to 'er cursed man-o'-warsman, did yer? Yer didn't see that I gotth' cat-o'-nine-tails on my back, did yer? Now, Mr. Skinner, it's mychance ter get even. Tie him ter th' windlass, boys, and we'll fix th'feller's hash. "

With a jeering laugh the sailors seized the frightened man, roped himtightly to the desired prop, and, procuring a lot of glass bottles, pelted him with them until their arms were tired. 

"You wuz a good master to me, Captain Skinner, " cried one. "Now you'regettin' a dose of your own medicine. Overboard with him, Boys. "

And, suiting the action to the words, he seized him by the collar. Theropes were unwound. The poor wretch was dragged to the rail, and, ashis body spun out into the oily sea, a shot ended the life of poorThomas Skinner of the _Cadogan_ from Bristol. Captain Edward Englandand his men had had a sweet and sure revenge. 

Where this reckless mariner was born, it is difficult to ascertain. We know that he started life honestly enough, for he was mate of asloop that sailed from Jamaica, about the year 1715, and was taken bya pirate called Captain Winter. The youthful sailor soon took up thecareless ways of his captors, and it was not many years before hebecame Captain of his own vessel: a sloop flying the black flag with askull and cross-bones. 

Off the east coast of Africa he soon took a ship called the _Pearl_, for which he exchanged his own sloop, fitting the new vessel up forpiratical service, after rechristening her the _Royal James_. Cruisingabout in this staunch craft, he captured several ships of differentsizes and flying the flags of many nations. He was rich andprosperous. 

"Captain, " said one of his reckless followers, at this time, "man-o'-warsmen are gettin' too thick in these parts for an honestsailor. Let's get across th' pond to th' Brazilian coast. "

"You're quite right, " answered England. "We've got to look for otherpickings. After we provision-up, we'll sail towards th' setting sun. That's a fresh field and we can have it to ourselves. "

So all made ready for a trans-Atlantic voyage. 

But Captain England was in error when he said that he was sailing forfields which had never before been touched. Two other piraticalvessels: the _Revenge_ and the _Flying King_, had been cruising offthe coast of Brazil, just before his advent. Fighting in partnership, they had taken two Portuguese schooners, and were making off withthem, when a Portuguese man-o'-warsman came booming along under fullcanvas. She was an unwelcome guest. 

Setting all sail the two pirates had attempted to get away and the_Revenge_ succeeded in doing so. Two days later a typhoon struck herand she was soon swinging bottom upwards, with the kittiwakesshrieking over her barnacled keel. 

But the revengeful man-o'-warsman ploughed relentlessly after the_Flying King_, which could not fly quite fast enough, this time, and--in despair--was run, bows on, upon the shore, where the crewscrambled to the sand in a desperate endeavor to get away. The sailorsfrom the man-o'-warsman were speedy; they shot twelve of thebuccaneers, took the rest prisoners (there were seventy in all) andhanged thirty-eight to the yard-arm. News of this came to CaptainEngland when he neared the tropic coast of Brazil. 

"It's all in a life-time, " said he. "If I'm captured, of course I'llswing. But, meanwhile, I hope to have a good life. "

Not many days afterwards he heard the welcome sound of:

"Sail ho! Off the port bow!"

And raising the glass to his eye discovered two fat, prosperous-looking merchant ships, slipping quietly along like an oldmaid fresh from market. 

"Slap on all sail and give chase!" was bellowed out in stentoriantones, and the _Royal James_ was soon fairly boiling along with everystitch aloft, which she could carry. 

As she neared the merchantmen, the names came plainly to view: the_Peterborough_ of Bristol, and the _Victory_ of Liverpool, but a shotscreamed across the bowsprit of the latter and victory was turned intodefeat. A white flag was fluttering at her mainmast in a moment, forthe Captain had no stomach for a fight. 

"Egad, it's a pirate, " said the good seaman in despair, as the blackflag with the skull and cross-bones fluttered from the rigging of hiscapturer. "I thought she was a privateersman under Letters of Marque. It's all up with us. "

As the boat-load of boarders came bobbing alongside he cried out, "Mercy! Have mercy upon the souls of these poor wretches who sail withme. "

The pirates guffawed, helped themselves to everything of value, andtook the merchantmen with them to the coast of Brazil, where the crewwere allowed to escape to the shore. The _Peterborough_ wasre-christened the _Victory_ and was manned by half of England's crew, while the other vessel was burned at night; the pirates dancing on thebeach to the light of the flames and singing the weird songs of thesea. 

Now there was a scene of wild revel upon the Brazilian coast; but thenatives grew angry at the conduct of these rough men of the ocean. 

"Ugh!" spoke a chief, "we must drive them away, else they will burnour own villages as they did their houses upon the water. "

One peaceful evening the followers of Captain England were hard besetby fully a thousand black-skinned warriors from the Brazilian jungle. 

There was a fierce battle. The negroes were pressed back upon theirprincipal town and were driven through it on the run, for their arrowsand spears were not as effective as the guns and pistols of theEnglish, Dutch, Spaniards and Portuguese, who had adopted a piraticalcareer. Their thatched huts were set on fire, and, satisfied with theday's work, the pirates retired to their ships, where a vote was castwhere was to be their next venture. It fell to the East Indies and theIsland of Madagascar. So they set sail, singing an old ballad whichran, "Heave the lead and splice th' topsail, Tie her down, and let her fill, We're agoin' to Madagascar, Where th' little tom-tits trill, "Bill an' coo, an' sing so sweetly, In th' dronin' hours of noon, That you want to die there, neatly, Just drop off into 'er swoon. "

The voyage across was a good one and the pirates captured two EastIndiamen and a Dutchman, bound to Bombay. These they exchanged for oneof their own vessels, and then set out for Madagascar Island, whereseveral of their hands were set ashore with tents and ammunition, tokill such beasts and venison as the place afforded. 

Then they sailed for the Isle of Juanna, --not a great distance fromMadagascar, --and here had as keen a little engagement as everemployed a piratical crew. Hear the story of this fight in the wordsof Captain Mackra, an English sea-captain who happened at that time tobe in the harbor. 

 "BOMBAY, November 16th, 1720. 

 "We arrived on the 25th of July last, in company with the _Greenwich_, at Juanna, an island not far from Madagascar. Putting in there to refresh our men, we found fourteen pirates who came in their canoes from the Mayotta (island) where the pirate ship to which they belonged, the _Indian Queen_--two hundred and fifty tons, twenty-eight guns, commanded by Captain Oliver de la Bouche, bound from the Guinea coast to the East Indies--had been bulged (run ashore) and lost. They said they left the Captain and forty men building a new vessel, to proceed upon their wicked designs. 

 "Captain Kirby and I concluding that it might be of great service to the East India Company to destroy such a nest of rogues, were ready to sail for this purpose on the 17th of August, about eight o'clock in the morning, when we discovered two pirates standing into the Bay of Juanna, one of thirty-four and the other of thirty-six guns. 

 "I immediately went on board the _Greenwich_ where they seemed very diligent in preparation for an engagement, and I left Captain Kirby with mutual understanding of standing by each other. I then unmoored, got under sail, and brought two boats ahead to row me close to the _Greenwich_; but he being open to a breeze, made the best of his way from me; which an Ostender in our company of twenty-two guns, seeing, did the same, though the Captain had promised heartily to engage with us, and, I believe would have been as good as his word, if Captain Kirby had kept his. 

 "About half an hour after twelve, I called several times to the _Greenwich_ to bear down to our assistance, and fired a shot at him, but to no purpose; for, though we did not doubt but he would join us, because, when he got about a league from us he brought his ship to and looked on; yet both he and the Ostender basely deserted us, and left us engaged with barbarous and inhuman enemies, with their black and bloody flags hanging over us, without the least appearance of ever escaping, but to be cut to pieces. 

 "But God in his good providence, determined otherwise; for, notwithstanding their superiority, we engaged them both about three hours, during which time the biggest of them received some shot betwixt wind and water, which made her keep a little off, to stop her leaks. The other endeavored all she could to board us, by rowing with her oars, being within half a ship's length of us about an hour; but, by good fortune, we shot all her oars to pieces, which prevented them from getting in close, and consequently saved our lives. 

[Illustration: "'LEFT US ENGAGED WITH BARBAROUS AND INHUMAN ENEMIES. '"]

 "About four o'clock most of the officers and men posted on the quarter-deck being killed and wounded, the largest ship made up to us with diligence, after giving us a broadside. There now being no hopes of Captain Kirby's coming to our assistance, we endeavored to run ashore; and though we drew four feet of water more than the pirate, it pleased God that he stuck fast on a higher ground than happily we fell in with; so was disappointed a second time from boarding us. 

 "Here we had a more violent engagement than before. All of my officers and most of my men behaved with unexpected courage; and, as we had a considerable advantage by having a chance to hurl a broadside into his bow, we did him great damage. Had Captain Kirby come in then, I believe we should have taken both the vessels, for we had one of them, sure. 

 "The other pirate (who was still firing at us) seeing the _Greenwich_ did not offer to assist us, supplied his consort with three boats full of fresh men. About five in the evening the _Greenwich_ stood clear away to sea, leaving us struggling hard for life, in the very jaws of death; which the other pirate that was afloat, seeing, got a hawser out, and began to haul under our stern. 

 "By this time many of my men were being killed and wounded, and no hopes left us of escaping being all murdered by enraged barbarous conquerors, I ordered all that could to get into the long-boat, under the cover of the smoke from our guns; so that, with what some did in boats, and others by swimming, most of us that were able got ashore by seven o'clock. 

 "When the pirates came aboard, they cut three of our wounded men to pieces. I, with some of my people, made what haste I could to Kings-town, twenty-five miles from us; where I arrived next day, almost dead with the fatigue and loss of blood, having been sorely wounded in the head by a musket-ball. 

 "At this town I heard that the pirates had offered ten thousand dollars to the country people to bring me in, which many of them would have accepted, only they knew that the king and all his chief people were in my interest. Meanwhile I caused a report to be circulated that I was dead of my wounds, which much abated their fury. 

 "We had, in all, thirteen killed and twenty-four wounded; and we were told that we destroyed about ninety, or a hundred, of the pirates. I am persuaded that, had our consort the _Greenwich_ done her duty, we could have destroyed both of them, and got two hundred thousand pounds ($1, 000, 000. 00) for our owners and ourselves. "

What say you to this fight? And to think that our own good friendCaptain Mackra just missed being a millionaire! Weep for the gallantsea warrior!

At any rate he got safely away, for, at length going aboard one of thepiratical vessels, --under a flag of truce--he discovered that severalof the wild sea-robbers knew him; some of them--even--had sailed withhim in earlier years. 

"I found this to be of great advantage, " he writes. "For, notwithstanding their promise not to harm me, some of them would havecut me to pieces, had it not been for their chief, Captain EdwardEngland, and some others whom I knew. "

And he used his powers of persuasion to such effect that: "They mademe a present of the shattered ship--which was Dutch built--called the_Fancy_, her burden being about three hundred tons. 

"With jury-masts, and such other old sails as they left me, I set sailon September 8th, with forty-three of my ship's crew, including twopassengers and twelve soldiers. After a passage of forty-eight days Iarrived at Bombay on the 26th of October, almost naked and starved, having been reduced to a pint of water a day, and almost in despair ofever seeing land, by reason of the calms we met with between the coastof Arabia and Malabar. "

The gallant writer of this interesting description was certainly inimminent danger of his life, when he trusted himself upon the pirateship, and unquestionably nothing could have justified such a hazardousstep but the desperate circumstances in which he was placed. The honorand influence of Captain England, however, protected him and his menfrom the wrath of the crew, who would willingly have wreaked theirvengeance upon those who had dealt them such heavy blows in the recentfight. 

But the generosity of Captain England toward the unfortunate Mackraproved to be calamitous to himself. 

"You are no true pirate, " cried one of his crew. "For a buccaneernever allows his foes to get away. "

"No! No!" shouted others. "This fighting Mackra will soon comeagainst us with a strong force. You did wrong in letting him escape. "

"To the yard-arm with the traitor!" sounded from the throat of many aruffianly seaman. 

Thus grew the feeling of mutiny--and the result of these murmurs ofdiscontent--was that Captain England was put ashore by the cruelvillains; and, with three others was marooned upon the island ofMauritius. Had they not been destitute of every necessity they mighthave been able to live in comfort, for the island abounds in deer, hogs, and other animals. Dissatisfied, however, with this solitarysituation, Captain England and his three men exerted their industryand ingenuity, built a small boat, and sailed to Madagascar, wherethey lived upon the generosity of some more fortunate piraticalcompanions. 

But can a pirate remain happy when not pirating?

"Away with this life, " cried Captain England. "I pine for moretreasure and for battle. Let's out and to sea!"

"Good! Good!" said his mates. "Let's ship aboard another vessel andget away from here. "

So, they again took to the ocean, but what became of Edward England isnot known. 

Some say that he was killed in a brawl; some that he was againmarooned and was adopted by a savage tribe; some that he perished in afight upon the Indian Ocean. At any rate that rough and valiant soulis lost to history, and--somewhere--in the vast solitude of theSouthern Hemisphere, lie the bleaching bones of him who had flauntedthe skull-and-cross-bones upon the wide highway of the gleamingwastes of salty brine. His was a rough and careless life. Do notemulate the career of Edward England!

 Near the straits of Madagascar; near the sobbing oceans' roar, A ghostly shape glides nightly, by the beady, kelp-strewn shore. -- As the Cubic monkeys chatter; as the Bulbul lizards hiss, Comes a clear and quiet murmur, like a Zulu lover's kiss. The flying-fishes scatter; the chattering magpies scream, The topaz hummers dart and dip; their jewelled feathers gleam. The mud-grimed hippos bellow; the dove-eyed elands bleat, When the clank of steel disturbs them, and the beat of sandalled feet. The pirate crew is out to-night, no rest is for their souls, The blood of martyrs moves them; they charge a million tolls. On! On! Their souls must hasten. On! On! Their shapes must go, While the limpid rushes quiver, and the beast-lapped waters glow. No rest for Captain England. No rest, for King or pawn, On! On! Their feet must wander. On! On! Forever on!

SONG OF THE PIRATE

 "To the mast nail our flag! it is dark as the grave, Or the death which it bears while it sweeps o'er the wave; Let our decks clear for action, our guns be prepared; Be the boarding-axe sharpened, the scimetar bared: Set the canisters ready, and then bring to me, For the last of my duties, the powder-room key. It shall never be lowered, the black flag we bear, If the sea be denied us, we sweep through the air. Unshared have we left our last victory's prey; It is mine to divide it, and yours to obey: There are shawls that might suit a Sultana's white neck, And pearls that are fair as the arms they will deck; There are flasks which, unseal them, the air will disclose Diametta's fair summers, the home of the rose. I claim not a portion: I ask but as mine-- But to drink to our victory--one cup of red wine. Some fight, 'tis for riches--some fight, 'tis for fame: The first I despise, and the last is a name. I fight 'tis for vengeance! I love to see flow, At the stroke of my sabre, the life of my foe. I strike for the memory of long-vanished years; I only shed blood where another sheds tears, I come, as the lightning comes red from above, O'er the race that I loathe, to the battle I love. "

WOODES ROGERS

THE BRISTOL MARINER

(?-1736)

 "If you want to win a lass, or a sea fight; don't cajole. Sail in!"--_Old Proverb. _

WOODES ROGERS

THE BRISTOL MARINER

(?-1736)

 For he can fight a Spaniard, like a Tipperary cat, For he can sack a city, like a _blawsted_, rangy rat; Woodes Rogers was a Gentleman, from Bristol-town he sailed, An' his crew came from th' prisons, an' were Bailed, Bailed, Bailed. 

"Yes, you can have the _Duke_ and the _Duchess_. They are both staunchcraft and we expect to get a good return for our investment in them. "

The fellow who spoke--a stout-bodied Quaker--looked quizzically at abronzed sea-captain, who, cap in hand, stood before him. By his sidewere seated a number of merchants, fat, sleek, contented-looking. Theywere giving instructions to Captain Woodes Rogers: theirprivateersman, who was about to make a voyage of adventure in theirbehalf. 

"My good friends, " said the mariner, "I shall do my very best for youall. The French and Spaniards have been having it all their own way inthe South seas. It is about time that the English had a share in therich spoils of that treasure highway. I shall work my hardest foryou. "

The merchants, ship-owners and Quakers nodded. 

"May Providence guide your course aright, " said they. And--as CaptainWoodes Rogers went off to inspect his privateersmen--all indulged in aglass of Madeira to pledge "good luck and good health" to the staunchseaman from Bristol. 

It was not many weeks before the _Duke_ (of three hundred and twentytons) with thirty guns and one hundred and seventeen men, and the_Duchess_ (of two hundred and sixty tons) with twenty-six guns and onehundred and eight men, sailed from King Road for Cork, in Ireland. 

"Egad!" cried Captain Rogers, as they passed out to sea. "Our riggingis slack. Our decks are lumbered up. Our stores are badly stowed. Ourcrew is so very mixed that I must stop in Ireland to get more ablesea-dogs. Was ever captain in a worse fix?"

His Lieutenants grinned, for they saw that things were in a sorrymess, indeed. 

"Most of us have embraced this trip around the world in order toretrieve our fortunes, " continued the captain. "Did you ever see aharder crew than this? There are tinkers, tailors, haymakers, peddlers, fiddlers, a negro and ten boys. None know how to use thecutlass and they haven't got any sea-legs. Well, well; I'll make thebest of it, but it's hard goin', I assure you. "

And still the Lieutenants grinned. 

They grinned still more when they had lain a few days at Cork, for thecrew were continually marrying, although they expected to sailimmediately. However, as the two privateers got under way onSeptember 1st, --with the _Hastings_, a man-of-war--the majority of thecrew drank a health to their spouses; waved their hands to them overthe rail; and "parted unconcerned. " Truly, a sailor has a lass inevery port. 

Not many days after their out-going, a sail was sighted and all speedwas made to capture her. The Swedish colors fluttered from hermast-head, and she hove to at the first gun. Rogers boarded. 

"No contraband goods are here, " said he, after looking into the hold. "We must let her off. "

Then--turning to her captain--he said, "You can go. I am not a pirate--but a privateer--sailing under Lettersof Marque. I only seize goods that are contraband. "

Bobbing and courtesying on the waves, the little Swede soon driftedfrom view. 

But the crew grew mutinous, --for had they not come out for plunder?The boatswain even called Rogers a traitor. 

"Seize the fellow and flog him, " cried the sturdy captain. "Put ten ofthese talkative hounds in irons. We'll do the talking on this boat, and the sailors must do theirs in the fo'castle. "

This was done immediately. 

Next day a seaman came aft, with near half the ship's company in hisrear, and cried:

"I demand the boatswain out of his irons, Captain Rogers. He's donenothing to deserve such a severe punishment. "

"Speak with me privately, on the quarter-deck, " said the bluffcommander. "I cannot discuss this matter with you in such a crowd. "And he moved aft. 

The grumbler followed, but, no sooner was he alone with stout Woodes, than the captain sprang upon him with the agility of a leopard. He wasthrown to the ground, held, and bound by two officers. Then he wasstripped and whipped until the blood ran. 

"This method, " writes the doughty Woodes, "I deemed best for breakingany unlawful friendship among the mutinous crew. It allayed thetumult, so that they began to submit quietly and those in irons beggedmy pardon, and promised amendment. "

Thus the captain had won the first round with the mutineers. 

Now, know you, that the War of the Spanish Succession was then inprogress; a war in which one party was endeavoring to put the ArchdukeCharles of Austria upon the Spanish throne; another to place Philip, grandson of Louis XIV of France, in the chair of the rulers. Andwhen--a few days later--the two privateers captured a small Spanishvessel, they found that their possession of it was disputed, when theysailed into the Canaries. 

"It has been agreed between Queen Anne of England and the Kings ofSpain and France, " said the Vice-Consul of that place--anEnglishman--"that all vessels trading to the Canary Isles shall beexempt from interference by men-o'-war, or privateers. The prize mustbe released. If you do not do so, we will keep your agent, Mr. Vanbrugh, who has come ashore, and will throw him into irons. "

But the Vice-Consul had reckoned without his host. 

"We are apprehensive that you are obliged to give us this advice inorder to gratify the Spaniards, " wrote Captain Rogers. "If you do notallow my agent to come on board my ship, you may expect a visit frommy guns at eight o'clock to-morrow morn. "

To this there was no reply. 

Next day the two English privateers stood in close to shore, and, justas the shot was rammed home, a boat put off, in the stern of which satMr. Vanbrugh with a present of wine, grapes, hogs and jelly. The prizewhich had been captured was sent back to Bristol with a picked crew. 

The two sea-rovers bore towards the South--soon crossed the Tropic ofCancer--and there had appropriate ceremonies for the occasion. Thetinkers, peddlers, fiddlers, and tailors who made up the crew, wereeach and all hoisted overboard by a rope. A stick was placed betweentheir legs and they were ducked again and again in the brine. 

"If any man wants to get off, " spoke Captain Rogers, "he can do so bypaying me a half-a-sovereign ($2. 50) which must be expended on anentertainment for the rest of the company when England shall bereached. Every man that is ducked is paid in proportion to the numberof times that he goes under. "

Several accepted this offer. At which a sailor cried out:

"Duck me twelve times, Captain. I want to have a regular orgy when Iget back home. "

And the sailors did it, laughing uproariously. 

Sailing to the Cape Verde Islands, the _Duke_ and the _Duchess_anchored in the harbor of St. Vincent, where one of the crew, who wasa good linguist (Joseph Alexander) was sent in a boat to the Governor, at San Antonio, in order to negotiate for supplies. He seemed toprefer Cape Verde to privateering. 

"On October 6th, " writes the gallant Rogers, "our boat went to SanAntonio to get our linguist, according to appointment. No news ofhim. "

"On October 6th, our boat returned with nothing but limes and tobacco. No news of our linguist. "

"On October 7th, no news of our linguist. "

"On the 8th, boat sent ashore, but no news of our linguist. "

"On the 9th, as the trade-winds are blowing fresh, concluded to leaveour good Alexander to practice his linguistic and otheraccomplishments ashore. Adieu to our linguist. "

Thus disappeared the sleek and crafty Joseph. 

There was still trouble from insubordination, for Mr. Page--secondmate of the _Duchess_--refused to accompany Mr. Cook (second incommand on the _Duke_). Whereupon the hot-tempered Captain Cook--beingthe superior officer on board--struck him, and several blows wereinterchanged. 

At last Page was forced into the boat and brought to the _Duke_, wherehe was ordered to the forecastle in the bilboes (leg irons slidingupon a long, iron bar). But he jumped overboard--despising the chanceof being gobbled up by a shark--and started to swim to his own ship. He was brought back, flogged, and put in irons; and he evidentlyfound a week of this kind of thing sufficient; for he submittedhimself humbly to future orders. 

Thus Woodes Rogers had already learned that the life of a privateercommander was not a happy one. 

Steering southwest, a large French ship was seen and chased, but shegot away from the two consorts with surprising ease. On March 6th, when off the coast of Peru, a sail was sighted. 

"Let the _Duchess_ bear down on her port and the _Duke_ to starboard, "cried Captain Rogers. "Heave a solid shot across her bow, and, if sherefuses to capitulate, let her have your broadsides. "

Dipping, tossing, rolling; the two privateers swooped down upon theirprey, like hawks. She flew the yellow flag of Spain--and--as the firstball of lead cut across her bowsprit, it fluttered to the deck. Upwent a white shirt, tied to a rat-line, and the crew from the _Duke_was soon in charge, and steering her for Lobas: a harbor on the coast. 

"She's a tight little barque, " said Rogers, when he had landed. "I'llmake her into a privateer. "

So she was hauled up, cleaned, launched, and christened the_Beginning_; with a spare topmast from the _Duke_ as a mast, and anodd mizzen-topsail altered for a sail. Four swivel-guns were mountedupon her deck, and, as she pounded out of the bay, loud cheers greetedher from the decks of the _Duchess_, which was loafing outside, watching for a merchantman to capture and pillage. 

Next morn two sails were sighted, and both _Duke_ and _Duchess_hastened to make another haul. As they neared them, one was seen to bea stout cruiser from Lima; the other a French-built barque fromPanama; richly laden, it was thought. 

"Broadsides for both, " ordered Woodes Rogers. "Broadsides and goodtreatment when the white flag flutters aloft. "

As the _Duchess_ chased the Lima boat, the _Duke_ neared the Frenchmanand spanked a shot at her from a bow-gun. The sea ran high and she didnot wish to get too close and board, because it would be easier tosend her men in pinnaces. 

"They're afraid!" cried the Captain of the _Duke_. "We can take 'emwith no exertion. " But he was like many an Englishman: despised hisfoe only to find him a valiant one. 

Piling into four boats, the men from the _Duke_, fully armed, rowedswiftly towards the rolling Frenchman. They approached to withintwenty yards. Then

_Crash! Crash! Rattle! Crash!_

A sheet of flame burst from her sides; muskets and pistols spoke;cannon spat grape and cannister; the Englishmen were frightfully cutup. 

"On! On!" shouted young John Rogers--a brother of Woodes--as he wavedhis cutlass aloft to enliven the sailors. But it was his last cry. Abullet struck him in the forehead, and he fell into the sea without amurmur. 

_Crash! Crash!_

Again roared out a volley. Oars were splintered. One boat was piercedbelow the water line. She sank, and her men floundered about upon thesurface of the oily sea. 

"Bear off, and rescue our comrades!" cried the leaders of this futileattack, and, as the French barque drifted away, the remaining boatsbusied themselves with the swimming sailors. The assault had been acomplete failure. 

"Curses upon the Frenchman!" cried Captain Rogers when he saw thesaucy fighter drawing off. "We'll go after her to-morrow, and catchher, or my blood's not English. What say you, men?"

"Yes. After her and board her amid-ships!" cried all. "Run our ownvessel alongside. "

"And that I will do, " answered Rogers, watching the lumberingmerchantman through his glass. "She's entirely too well armed for atrader. "

When morning dawned, the Frenchman was still ploughing along the coastin the light breeze, with all sail set. But there was not wind enoughto force her ahead of her pursuer. The _Duchess_ now returned from herchase of the Lima boat, and, joining her _Duke_, bore in upon the ablefighter from the open sea. 

"Egad! We'll have her yet, " shouted Captain Rogers, rubbing his hands. 

"She luffs!" cried a lieutenant. "She's coming to!"

Sure enough the Frenchman saw that resistance now was useless. Shestaggered into the wind, and a white flag beckoned for a prize-crew tocome and take her. 

"And, " writes Captain Rogers, "I found that a Bishop who had beenaboard of her, had been put ashore, which gave me much grief. For Ialways love to catch fat prelates, as they give up a stout sum astheir ransom. In truth they are nice pickings. "

Things were going well with the wild rovers from Bristol. Plunderthere was aplenty and the holds of the _Duke_ and the _Duchess_ bulgedwith treasure. Yet Woodes Rogers was not satisfied. 

"On! On to Guayaquil!" cried he. "We'll capture this wealthy city;demand a great ransom; and sail to England, richer than the Spanishconquerors of the Incas. "

"Hurrah!" shouted his staunch followers. "On! On! to Guayaquil!"

So--steering for the coast of Ecuador--the privateers drew near thisrich Spanish-American town. A gulf lay before their eyes in which wasa small island; with a little, white-housed village (called Puna) onits Eastern shore. 

"Take the place!" cried Rogers, as the two ships forged into thesleepy shallows, and rounded to before the peaceful habitation. 

With a cheer, the sailors piled into the boats, rowed ashore, and--with cutlass and dirk in hand--pressed through the narrowstreets. Shots rang out from a few of the thatched houses; two seamenfell to the ground with mortal wounds; but, cheering wildly, theprivateers rushed through the narrow highway; pressed into thecourt-house; and seized upon the Lieutenant-Governor of the town ofGuayaquil, as he was attempting to hide behind an old clothes-press. 

"Let no man get away in order to warn the large town of ourapproach!" shouted Captain Rogers. "Catch all who dash for the canoesupon the beach!"

"Crush the bloomin' canoes!" yelled Cook, as he saw some of thenatives running towards them on the sandy shore. "Crush the canoesbefore the devils can get there!"

"All right!" answered several of his men, as they ran for the clustersof boats. "We'll put holes in them!"

As they hurried forward, several of the natives were ahead. Two jumpedinto the bark boats and paddled furiously for Guayaquil. The _zip_, _zip_ of bullets nipped the water around them, but, --with desperatesweeps--they dug their blades into the sea and got safely off. As aresult, the city was all ready and prepared for the invaders. 

"Ho! Ho!" laughed Rogers, as he thumbed the papers of theLieutenant-Governor. "What is this?"

"A warning to the townsfolk of Guayaquil, " said one of his men, as hepeered over his shoulder. 

Rogers chuckled. 

"Beware, all you people"--he read--"of a squadron from the farawayisles of Great Britain which is coming shortly upon you. There will befull ten great ships, heavily manned and well armed for attack. Thearch rogue, William Dampier, will be in control, --he who has plunderedPuna before. Be on your guard, citizens! Be prepared! Arm yourselves!"

"Hah! Hah!" laughed the free-booting captain. "They think I'mDampier. That's good. But we'll have a tough time with them, for theyknow that we mean to assault their pretty little town. "

His followers looked solemn. 

"Let's attack, right away, " cried several, "before the Spaniards havetime to prepare for our charge!"

Rogers, however, would not hear of it. 

"We must rest. Equip ourselves. Place cannon in the bows of our boats, and then we will be ready. "

His men murmured, but they knew that when Rogers had made up his mindupon a thing, there was no use in endeavoring to dissuade him. So theycollected what plunder was to be had and awaited his further orders. 

Two days later all was ready for the advance. It was nearmidnight--upon April 22nd, --when the command was passed around:

"Muffle your oars and take the town!"

With one hundred and ten men in the jolly boats, the privateers nearedthe sleepy, little seaport. Not a sound broke the silence, save thedrip, drip of the sweeps, yet, as they approached the white-washedwalls of the lower town, --a bonfire was touched off upon the shore. 

"'Tis well, " whispered a stout sailor. "Now we can see to shoot!"

As he said this, many lights appeared in the houses of Guayaquil. Thetownspeople were wide awake. 

"What means this, sirrah?" thundered Rogers at a native guide, who waspiloting him to the shore. 

The fellow had a ready answer. 

"'Tis the celebration of All Saints Day, " he answered smiling. "Thepeople here are good Christians. "

"They know that we are coming, " growled the English captain, for, asthe native spoke, a Spaniard upon the shore was heard to shout:

"Puna has been captured! The enemy is advancing! Arm! Arm!"

Bells clanged from the steeples of the little churches. Muskets andguns went off. Black masses could be seen surging into the streets. Cannon roared, and a screeching shot spun ahead of the on-comingboats. 

"'Tis nothing, " said Rogers. "The alarm has only just been given. Preparations are not complete and we can rush them, easily. "

But Captain Cook had his own opinion upon the affair. 

"The Buccaneers, " said he, "never attack any large place after it isalarmed. My advice is to keep away. "

"Don't go in, " cried several. "Wait and rush them when they are not sowell prepared. "

Even the men seemed disinclined to advance. 

Thus cautious counsel prevailed: the boats dropped down-streamagain--about three miles below the town--and were joined by two smallbarques. They were prizes which had been recently captured. Here theflotilla lay while the cries in the city grew inaudible, --for theinhabitants saw that the attack had been avoided. 

When flood-tide came, Captain Rogers once more ordered an advance uponthe town. 

"No! No!" argued Dover. "They are too well prepared. Night will cloakour movements, so we should then go on. I, myself, advise the sendingof a trumpeter with a flag of truce. He shall propose that we makesome trades with the people of this place. "

"Your measure is half-hearted, " said Rogers, with heat. "You are acraven knave. Let's rush the town like Englishmen and heroes!"

Again cautious counsel prevailed. Two prisoners--a Lieutenant fromPuna, and the Captain of the Frenchman of recent capture--were sent toparley with the Spaniards. 

"The English are afraid!" whispered the inhabitants. "Let us keep themoff with braggadocio, and mayhap reinforcements will come to us. "

So they bickered and delayed. 

"These dogs would palaver forever, " said Captain Rogers, whennegotiations had proceeded for full two days without result. "I, forone, am for attacking the city right now!"

"Yes! On! On!" cried his men. 

Even the cautious Dover was ready to advance; so, landing upon thebeach, the one hundred and ten ran towards the town with a wild, exultant whoop!

_Zip! Zip!_ came the bullets from the nearer houses, as the privateersadvanced. 

_Boom! Boom!_ sounded the guns from the _Duchess_ and the _Duke_, which had edged up near the wharves and anchored. Shells shrieked andburst; guns roared; and, with a hoarse cheer, the English beat downtwo lines of Spaniards who opposed them. 

Back, back, they crushed the defenders of Guayaquil to themarket-place in the centre of the town, where four cannon were drawnup behind a barricade which was flanked by cavalry. 

_Crash! Crash!_ they roared at the on-coming privateers, and many aman went down before the exploding grape and cannister. But the bloodof the English was now up. 

"Take the guns!" shouted Woodes Rogers. "Scale the barricade and spikethe pieces!"

With a mighty roar the jack-tars ran for the engines of death; leapingover the wall of the defenses; bayonetting the gunners; turning thespitting war-engines upon the cavalry, which, in confusion and dismay, was driven down a crooked lane. It was the last stand. The Englishstandard soon waved from the flag-pole of the House of Justice. 

"And now, " cried Captain Rogers, gleefully, "I'll meet the worthy_Padres_ and treat with them for a ransom. We'll make them pay fullwell to get back the neat little town of Guayaquil. "

Crestfallen and abashed, the city fathers were soon brought before theprivateer. 

"Señor, " said they, "your men can fight like devils. Señor, you arethe first man to have taken our town, and many a Buccaneer hasendeavored to do so!"

Captain Rogers smiled. 

"Tut! Tut!" said he. "The English can always battle. But--Fathers--youmust pay me well for this affair. I demand thirty thousand pieces ofeight ($35, 000 or about £6, 750) as ransom for your fair city. I willgive you two days in which to collect it. "

The worthy _Padres_ hung their heads. 

"You English, " said they, "are cruel extortioners. "

Yet--in two day's time--the British marched to their boats with colorsflying, bugles blowing, and drums beating a rollicking tattoo. CaptainRogers brought up the rear with a few men. He had secured the ransomand fairly smiled with exuberant joy. "Our sailors, " says he, "keptcontinually dropping their pistols, cutlasses, and pole-axes; whichshows they had grown careless and very weak--weary of beingsoldiers--and it was high time that we should be gone from hence tothe shores of Merrie England. "

Thus, on April 28th, when the _Duke_ and the _Duchess_ weighed anchorand stood out to sea: guns roared: trumpets blew: the men cheered. 

"And so, " writes the gallant Rogers, "we took leave of the Spaniardsvery cheerfully, but not half so well pleased as we should have beenif we had taken 'em by surprise; for I was well assured from allhands, that at least we should then have got about two hundredthousand pieces of eight in money (£45, 000 or $225, 000); and injewels, diamonds, and wrought and unwrought gold and silver. "

 * * * * *

The owners of the two privateers: the _Duke_ and the _Duchess_, sat insolemn meeting at the good town of Bristol. It was the month ofOctober, 1711. 

The fat Quakers were smiling, for Captain Rogers had brought themback equally fat moneys. 

The rugged merchants laughed, for the venture had been a howlingsuccess. 

"And you were wounded?" said a stockholder, turning to the bronzedsea-rover who stood before them, giving account and reckoning of hisjourney to the Spanish Main. 

"A scratch, " replied the stout sea-dog, smiling. "When we tackled aManila ship on the way home from Guayaquil, I got a ball through thejaw, and a splinter in the left foot. It laid me up for full threeweeks, but, gentlemen, a cat and Woodes Rogers both have nine lives. "

And even the sober Quaker fathers laughed at this sally. 

"You have done well, " they said. "We will reward you with money and agood berth. How would you care to be Governor of the Bahamas?"

"Fine!" said Woodes Rogers, chuckling. 

And that is the way the old sea-barnacle spent his declining years, dying at the tropic isle on July 16th, 1732. Hail to this Prince ofPrivateers!

TWILIGHT AT SEA

 The twilight hours like birds flew by, As lightly and as free; Ten thousand stars were in the sky, Ten thousand on the sea; For every wave with dimpled face, That leaped up in the air, Had caught a star in its embrace, And held it trembling there. 

FORTUNATUS WRIGHT

THE MOST HATED PRIVATEERSMAN OF THE MEDITERRANEAN SEA

(1715-1765)

 "It was a high counsel which I once heard given to a young person: 'Always do what you are afraid to do. '"--EMERSON. 

FORTUNATUS WRIGHT

THE MOST HATED PRIVATEERSMAN OF THE MEDITERRANEAN SEA

(1715-1765)

 "'_Be sure you're right, then go ahead!_' was coined by Andrew Jackson, Who was a fighter, tough as nails, and loved to lay the whacks on, He followed out this sage advice, in spite of opposition, While everybody winked and said, --'_A Fellow with a Mission!_' In other days, in other climes, there lived a seaman daring, Who loved a fight, as well as he, --was just as good at swearing; His name was Wright, and thus in spite of all his foemen said, Old _Fortune_ Wright, was surely right, whene'er he went ahead!"

 --_Chants of the Eastern Clipper Ships. _--1846. 

In the year 1744 war was declared between England and France. Frenchprivateers harried the coast of her rival, caught her merchantmenwhenever they ventured away from stout men-o'-warsmen, and chased themin the blue, shimmering waters of the Mediterranean. It seemed as ifthere were never gun-boats enough to protect the British shipping, andthus many of the English merchants grew choleric and angry. 

Englishmen carried on quite a trade with Italy, Greece, and thecountries of Asia Minor, and at Leghorn--upon the Italian coast--theyhad numerous trading shops and docks for their own vessels. They beganto suffer, not only great annoyance, but also great loss, from thedepredations of the French privateers which swarmed about the harbormouth and scurried into every corner of the ragged coast-line. Theirtrade was hampered, their ships compelled to remain in port, or--ifthey ventured out--they were inevitably captured. The situation wasunbearable. 

"My! My!" said one of the red-faced merchants. "My! My! We must have aremedy for this. My! My! We must have our own privateers!"

"Well spoken, " cried another. "And I know the very man to help us out. He is living here, now, and his name is Fortunatus Wright. Gentlemen!I tell you he is a true sea-dog! He is the fellow to cripple thesesaucy, French bushwhackers of the sea. "

"Hear! Hear!" cried others. 

And thus Mr. Fortunatus Wright was sought for, and was asked:

"Will you take charge of a privateer for the British merchants ofLeghorn? Will you chase these rascally Frenchmen? Will you crippletheir operations? Will you chastise these sea-robbers?"

To this Mr. Fortunatus Wright, being a true seaman with the love ofthe salt water tugging at his heart strings, is said to have remarked, "Whoop-ee!"

Which being interpreted means:

"Gentlemen, I'm dee-lighted!"

As luck would have it, there was a vessel lying in the harbor whichwas directly available. She was a brigantine called the _Fame_, and, although we know little about her tonnage and the number of stoutsea-dogs whom she could carry, it is apparent that Fortunatus Wrightconsidered her most admirably suited for his venture. At any rate hesoon boarded her, swore in a crew of stalwart seamen, and saw thatplenty of gunpowder, cutlasses, boarding-pikes and muskets wereaboard. 

It was September, 1746, and, before the close of the month ofDecember, the _Fame_ had captured eighteen prizes, one of which was ahulking, French privateer with twenty guns and one hundred and fiftymen, especially fitted out to put an end to the career of the vesselof Fortunatus Wright. They had met off the port of Messina and had hada roaring, little scrimmage, but--seeing that matters were going illwith him--the French captain had cried:

"Run for the shore! Run our ship aground! We will fix her so that thisEnglish hound cannot make a prize of us!"

"Voilà! Voilà!" his men had shouted. "Oui! We will f-e-e-x th-e-esEengleesh chien! Oui! Au revoir, Monsieur Wright!"

So saying, the privateer had been run upon the sandy beach, bows on, where her crew took to the brush, yelling derisively at the _Fame_ asshe came up within hail, --sails snug down so as to move cautiously. 

The Frenchmen had counted without their host. 

"We'll float her, my hearties!" cried Wright. "All hands ashore inthe small boats. Tie hawsers to her stern and pull her off!"

This they did, while the French captain, far back in the brush, saw itand fairly boiled with disappointment and rage. 

"Zees Wright, " he blustered. "One cannot outweet heem. "

So the privateer was towed into the harbor of Leghorn, where all theEnglish merchants cried:

"Good! Good! Now we have a true man to fight our battles! Huzzah forFortunatus Wright!"

The French were furious, while at the island of Malta (where werenumerous French, Spanish, Austrian and English traders) the feelinggrew intense. Here the Austrians sided with the English and severalduels were fought by angry officers, as crafty Fortunatus Wrightcontinued to send in his prizes. 

Finally the French merchants forwarded a missive to Marseilles, inFrance, which ran:

"Can the French be further humiliated by this corsair--thisrobber--Fortunatus Wright? Let our people fit out a privateersufficiently large to cope with him, and let her defeat and cripplethis fellow. Make haste, for he is doing much damage!"

An answer came back. 

"Before a month is gone, Monsieur Wright will no more harass yourprivateers. What we have determined to do, we shall do!"

Word of this was brought to Captain Fortunatus Wright and he onlysmiled broadly. "There'll be another ship to bring into Malta, careof F. Wright, Esq. , " said he. "And it will be labelled Collect onDelivery. "

Not three weeks later the French vessel came jauntily into the harborof Malta. The captain was a man of considerable repute as a seaman andfighter, and he was warmly received by the French. They invited him tomany dinners. 

"Voilà!" said they. "Here is the fellow to do the tr-e-e-k. Tenez!There will soon be one b-e-eg mince pie we-eth Captain Wright eenside. Ha! Ha!"

It is never well to count your chickens before they hatch or to pat aman upon the back before he has won a victory. 

Eagerly the French captain cruised outside, continually upon the watchfor slippery Skipper Wright. His vessel was superior to the _Fame_ innumbers of both guns and men. He was sure of victory. "If only thehated Englishman would appear!" he grumbled. 

Meanwhile the excitement and expectation at Malta became intense. Finally it was noised abroad that the terrible privateer had beensighted about five miles off the harbor. All factions were aroused:the Austrians and English slapping the French and Spaniards upon theback, and saying, "Now there will be a chance to sink bold CaptainWright, Messieurs!"

To which the irritable Frenchmen would answer, "Ah! Yes! He will begobbled up like Jonah by the whale. Pouff!"

The French privateer sailed out to meet the foe, and soon her whitecanvas had disappeared from view around a jutting headland. Thestranger ran off. The Frenchman pursued, and soon both were lost tothe eager gaze of the population of Malta, which crowded everyheadland, eager and expectant for the bloody battle. The shore wasblack with people. 

Hours passed. Another day came and with it the news that two vesselshad been sighted off the entrance to the harbor. Hundreds rushed tothe headlands and cliffs in order to see the victor and thevanquished, for two cruisers were approaching, the one towing theother. 

"Huzzah!" shouted an enthusiastic Frenchman. "We have won! See--up gothe French colors upon the first vessel. The other--poof--eet ees ajelly. Eet ees pounded to ze shreds. "

"Huzzah!" shouted all of his compatriots, and they danced about, shaking hands, embracing, and waving their hats and theirhandkerchiefs. 

"Ce cher Wright!" cried they. "He ees een the soup, eh?"

And what of the Englishmen?

They--of course--said nothing, but bit their lips, looked at theirAustrian friends, and hung their heads dejectedly. 

Here is the most beautiful part of all this story, for FortunatusWright, my boys, was a joker--a real, true end man in a minstrelshow--and he was having his fun with "the Frenchies. " Hisvessel--indeed--had come off victorious, in spite of the fact that shehad been much more shattered than the other contestant. Therefore, Wright had put her in tow of the captured Frenchman, which he, himself, was steering, with the crew of his opponent down in the hold, as prisoners of war. 

Seeing the crowded headlands and swarming ramparts in the harbor, hecould not resist the temptation of hoisting the flag of France. Hechuckled as he saw the effect it produced upon the crowd, then--as thevessels rounded a fort at the entrance to the harbor--down came thecolors of France and up went the English flag to the peak, with theFrench flag below. 

And then--well, you can imagine how the Englishmen and Austriansyelled, and how the poor Frenchmen beat a hasty flight for theirhomes. Fortunatus Wright had had a sweet revenge. He laughed long andhard, while the Frenchmen said, "Curse heem! He ees a devil! Athousand curses upon the head of thees Wright! Sapristi!" And they didnot open any more bottles of wine for their supposedly great captainfrom Marseilles. 

As for Fortunatus Wright, he continued to harass the French and getinto trouble, as the following anecdote well shows. 

Not long after his famous battle, he was travelling in Italy withintroductions to many of the nobility, and arrived--one day--beforethe city gates of Lucca. Here was stationed a guard, and a sentinelscrutinized him with great care and deliberation. 

Fortunatus Wright grew impatient. 

"Can I not go by?" said he. "My passports are correct!"

"No! No!" answered the soldier. "I no likea zose peestols in yourbelta. You must deeliver them to me before you can go to ze ceety. "

The English sea-captain said nothing, but the color rose in hischeeks. In an instant he raised one of his pistols and pointed it atthe head of the astonished sentry. 

"The first man that endeavors to take my weapons from me, " he yelled, "does so at the cost of his life!"

The guardsman was flabbergasted. 

"Corporal of the Guard! Post Number Two!" he shouted, presenting hismusket at the same instant, and pointing it at the head of theirascible Captain Wright. 

Immediately a dozen soldiers came running to the spot. They surroundedthe irate English traveller. He was ordered to "Throw up your hands!"

"You air one mad Englishmana!" said the Officer of the Guard. "Here. Comea weeth usa! We weel feexa youa!"

Seeing that the odds were too much against him, Captain Wright allowedhimself to be taken to the guard house, while a soldier was dispatchedto the British Ambassador in order to explain that "they had capturedan Englishman as mad as a mad dog!"

Things looked bad for the great privateersman. But was his name notFortunatus? And was not good fortune always with him?

A nobleman to whom the bold mariner had a letter now intervened in hisfavor, and secured the release of the high-tempered man-of-the-sea. Onthe morning of the fourth day of his captivity, and at the early hourof four, a soldier waked Captain Fortunatus Wright, who was peacefullysleeping at a military prison. A missive was handed him, and he read:

 "SEIGNEUR WRIGHT:--Since you have been so daring as to attempt to enter the town of Lucca by force, it is therefore ordered that you shall now leave the State and never presume to enter it again, without leave from the Republic. Post-horses, with a guard to see you over the border, are now ready for you. We trust that you shall have a safe journey. 

 "By order of the

 "GOVERNOR OF LUCCA. "

"These Italians are the most unreasonable people alive, " growledCaptain Wright. But he pocketed both his pride and his pistols, entered the post-chaise at the door, and was soon rolling forth forother parts. In spite of this order--he continued to reside in Italy, with the true independence of a privateersman. 

In December, 1746, the bold seafarer made an exceptionally goodcapture: a French vessel on a voyage from Marseilles to Naples, with arich cargo and the servants and luggage of a real potentate, --thePrince of Campo Florida. 

When valorous Wright stepped aboard of her, her captain was scrapingand bowing near the rail. 

"Ah, Seigneur!" said he, "you have taken me, that is true. But youcannot touch my cargo or my men. See, --here is a pass from King Georgethe Second of England. It says, 'All of the cargo, passengers, andcrew of _La Belle Florence_ shall be exempt from molestation byEnglish cruisers and privateers. ' What say you to that?"

Captain Wright looked sad, but he seized the paper and read it withcare. His smile broadened as he perused the document. 

"How am I to know that this particular ship is to go free?" said he. "For although you told me that the name of your vessel (_La BelleFlorence_) was mentioned in this document, I do not find that it ismentioned. The paper merely states that 'the vessel' shall not bemolested, and, my boy, you may have stolen this from some otherskipper. Ah! Ha! You are my prize and shall go with me into Leghorn. "

You should have seen the face of the Frenchman!

"I vill haf revenge!" said he. And he had it. 

For, when the matter was referred to the British Minister, he turnedit over to the Admiral who commanded the English ships at thisstation, and this high official made Captain Wright give up bothvessel and cargo. He did so with the same unwillingness that he hadshown when asked to leave the quaint, little town of Lucca. CaptainWright, you see, had that bull-dog stubbornness which ischaracteristic of men of the British Isles. He believed in hanging onto everything which he took. 

A bit later, this trait got him into serious difficulties and intoprison. 

A number of English merchants were trading with the people of Turkeyunder the name of "The Company of English Merchants trading to theLevant Sea, " and, finding it impossible to ship all of their goods inBritish vessels, they often sent them in the holds of French ships. True it was that France was at war with England at this time, but, asthese were English cargoes, the British naturally thought that theyshould be allowed to come through, unmolested, even though the Frenchvessels might be captured by English privateers. But they had notreckoned with Fortunatus Wright. 

Two French clipper ships were scudding quietly along off the Italiancoast, one bright day in June of 1747, when a rakish vessel appearedupon the horizon and speedily bore down upon them. They crowded onsail, but they could not outdistance their pursuer, who was soon nearenough to fire a gun across the bow of the foremost, and flaunt theEnglish colors in her face. 

"Helas!" growled the French skipper. "Eet ees that devil, ze CaptainWright. Eet is all up with me! Helas!"

So he came to and surrendered; but the other fellow pounded away atthe British privateer with a couple of swivel guns and put up a smart, little skirmish before a well-directed shot from the deck of theEnglishman, knocked a topmast crashing over the port side. Crippled, she surrendered. 

It did not take Captain Wright long to sail into Leghorn harbor withhis prizes. The holds were filled with bales of rich goods, marked:"The property of the Company of English Merchants trading to theLevant Sea. "

"I'll sell the bloomin' cargoes, " cried Wright. "For the vessels wereunder the French flag and we're at war with that nation. Besides this, one of them put up a fight against me. "

Thus--the cargoes were sold--Captain Fortunatus pocketed the money, and went upon his way, rejoicing. 

But he did not rejoice very long, for the British merchants werefurious with anger, and procured--through some means or other--anorder from the English Government to the effect that English cargoesin French vessels were not to be touched--when captured by Britishprivateers. Word was sent to Captain Wright to refund the money whichhe had secured by the sale of the cargoes captured in the Frenchships, and the property of "The Company of English Merchants tradingto the Levant Sea. "

To this Captain Wright answered, "Bah! I have the money. I intend tokeep it!"

Orders were sent from England to have this fellow arrested and shippedhome; so the Italian police obligingly captured the old sea-dog, locked him up, and kept him in jail for six months, while theattorneys fought over the legality of the affair. 

At length the bluff privateersman was allowed to go free, and--henever paid back the money. "These fellows attacked me at law, " hewrote, "but I have not acted contrary to it. I am an Englishman. I amacting under a commission from the King of England, and, when we areat war with France, I intend to hold and keep all the cargoes which Icapture in French vessels. As for this 'English Company trading to theLevant Sea!' let them learn a lesson and pack their goods in future inEnglish vessels. English oak should be good enough for Englishcargoes. "

The "English Company trading to the Levant Sea" had certainly learnedthat Fortunatus Wright was as stubborn as a mule, and--in thefuture--they employed no French vessels to carry their bales ofcommerce. _A wise dog only allows himself to be bitten once. _

France and England now came to a peaceable settlement of theirdifficulties, but in 1755 war broke out afresh. Fortunatus Wrightchuckled, for he itched for another brush upon the wide sweep of theocean, and a chance to take a prize or two. So the _Fame_ not beingavailable, he had a small vessel constructed at Leghorn, and calledher the _Saint George_. She was a fast sailer and was as graceful as asea-gull. "In this fair ship, " said he, as he gazed upon heradmiringly, "I shall take many a prize and shall have, I trust, many asharp adventure. _Saint George_, I salute you! May you bring me onlythe best of luck!"

Trouble was in store for the well-hated mariner even before he turnedhis vessel's prow into the Mediterranean, for--in spite of the factthat the Italians were neutral--their sympathies were strongly withFrance, and they looked with decided disfavor upon the graceful hullof the _Saint George_, as she bobbed serenely upon the surface of thebay. Knowing full well the reputation of this famous seaman, theypaid particular attention to his little craft, and sent a number ofofficials to inspect her. In a few days the intrepid Fortunatusreceived the information that, as his was a merchant vessel, he mustcarry a crew of only five-and-twenty men, and an armament of foursmall guns. 

At this the old sea-dog only laughed, and exhibited the greatestanxiety to comply with the requirements of the law. 

"I would suggest, " said he to one of the officials of the town, "thatyou keep guard-boats rowing around my ship in order to be sure that Ido not take on more guns and men than the law permits, before I setsail. "

The officer smiled. "We are watching you closely, " said he. "ForMonsieur Wright, it is said that you are as crafty as a cat!"

The mariner grinned, and, before going to sea, obtained from theGovernor, a certificate to the effect that he had complied with allthe requirements of the law. 

Armed with this, on July 28th, 1756, he put to sea, in company withfour merchant vessels laden with valuable cargoes, and bound for theshores of England. Carefully the _Saint George_ had been watched, socarefully, in fact, that the authorities had overlooked the lading ofthe other vessels, aboard which numerous guns, howitzers, andhand-spikes had been smuggled, besides a number of seamen who werewell-experienced in fighting upon the ocean. It is true thatFortunatus Wright was as crafty as a cat, or--as they say inMaine--"You'd have to git up early if yer wanted ter lick him. "

Not only had the officials at Leghorn watched every move of thiswell-known privateersman, but they had sent word to the French thatWright had only a feeble force, that he was accompanying several richprizes, and that he could be easily beaten and captured by a vessel ofany size. So much hated was he, that it is said the French king hadpromised Knighthood and a handsome life pension to the sailor whocould bring Wright to the shores of France _dead or alive_. Themerchants of Marseilles were particularly bitter against him, for hehad captured many of their ships, and in the market-place (where allcould see it) had been posted a placard, which ran:

 "ALL SAILORS AND SEAMEN ATTENTION!

 To the person, or persons, who will capture and bring to France, the body of the arch-villain Captain Fortunatus Wright, shall be given

 A SUM DOUBLE THE VALUE OF WRIGHT'S VESSEL. 

 Frenchmen! Catch this Thief! Bring him in Dead or Alive! Do your Duty!

 This sum is guaranteed by the Merchants and Ship-owners of Marseilles, and the Chamber of Commerce. "

Wright had heard of this, and it sent a grim look into his eyes. Healso heard that a vessel was cruising outside the harbor in wait forhim, and thus he was not surprised, as he saw a large boat upon hisport bow, when only a few hours' sail from the snug harbor of Leghorn. 

This vessel--a zebeque--had been waiting for the well-hatedprivateersman for several days, as her captain had been warned by theItalians that Wright was about to set sail. She had three masts, eachcarrying a huge, three-cornered sail, sixteen guns of considerablesize, and several swivels. Her crew numbered two hundred and eightymen, well armed and eager for a brush with the famous Fortunatus, whose proverbial good fortune seemed now to have deserted him. 

Rounding to, Wright signalled to his merchantmen to draw near andhurriedly transported some of the cannon, which he had smuggled, tohis own vessel. He also added to his small crew, so that--when thezebeque came pounding down within shooting distance--he had increasedhis sailors from twenty-five to seventy-five, and his guns, from fourto twelve. 

"Now let the Frenchie come on!" he cried. "I'm half prepared, but I'llgive her a warmer welcome than she ever had in all her career!"

"Huzzah! Huzzah!" shouted his men, who were a motley collection of allnationalities: Italians, English, Portuguese, Dutch, Germans, and afew Arabs. "Huzzah! Huzzah! Wright forever!" The Arabs, of course, didn't say this, but they tried to. 

The French were very confident, and, as they came within range of theguns of the little _Saint George_ they began to sing a hymn ofvictory, while their captain already saw, in his hands, the richreward offered by the good citizens of Marseilles. 

"Poof!" he chuckled. "Monsieur Wright, he soon take dinnaire in mycabin. Poof!"

But Monsieur Wright was a different fellow than he imagined, and hismen--although of all nationalities--were so animated by his stirringand martial spirit, that they fought better than they had ever foughtin their lives before. You all know how necessary to success "Spirit"is in a foot-ball team, or a base-ball nine. The team which has thedo-or-dare spirit, the never-give-up-until-the-last-gun-is-fireddetermination, is usually the team that wins. And the spirit of thecaptain is the controlling factor in any contest. If he be nodesperate fighter, his followers will not be desperate fighters. If heis weak-kneed in a crisis, his followers will be weak-kneed. 

So this motley crew, under Fortunatus Wright, cheered onward by thedauntless navigator, fought as they had never fought before. Arab andGerman strove as well as Englishman and Italian to battle strenuouslybeneath the eye of the famous privateersman. They had never beentogether before, but, animated by the presence of this fearless"cock-of-the-Mediterranean, " they now sailed into the Frenchman as ifthe zebeque were a vessel of equal strength and armament. Cheer aftercheer welled into the air as the two antagonists drew near each other, while the puff of white smoke from the sides of the French vessel wasfollowed by the _chug! chug!_ of solid shot, as it cut up the wavesnear the body of the staunch, little _Saint George_. 

"It's three to one against us, Boys!" shouted the battle-scarredCaptain Wright. "Fire for the enemy's rigging and bring down one ofher masts, if you can. If you fight hard we can lick her!"

The screech of a shell cut his words short, for a piece of iron passeddangerously near his lips, striking a stout Italian in the neck, andrendering him useless for further conflict. 

Around and around in a wide circle floated the two sea-warriors, forthe wind was light and just drove them along at the rate of a snail'space. The rag-tag-and-bob-tail crew on the _Saint George_ stood totheir guns like veterans and poured in such a hot fire that the Frenchcaptain speedily realized that his only chance for victory was toboard and overwhelm the English by superior numbers. 

"Bring the vessel up on her starboard side!" he commanded. "And getout the boarding-pikes! Now we'll finish Captain Wright!"

The zebeque soon ranged alongside the battered _Saint George_, threwher grappling hooks into the rigging, and her men were in ahand-to-hand struggle with the motley crew who battled for the veteranFortunatus. _Slash! Slash! Crack!_ The cutlasses cut and parried, thepistols spat, and the boarding-pikes thrust and struck. Cheeringwildly the Frenchmen attempted to climb upon the deck of theprivateer, but the followers of old Wright fought like demons. Theyparried and thrust like fiends; and such was the ferocity of theirstruggle that the boarders were repulsed with great slaughter. 

[Illustration: "THE BOARDERS WERE REPULSED WITH GREAT SLAUGHTER. "]

"Thees Wright ees a very hornet for a fight!" sighed the Frenchcaptain, as he ordered the grappling hooks cast off, and floated hisvessel away. 

_Poom! Poom!_

There was still some fight left in the little _Saint George_ and herdauntless crew kept pounding iron at the sullen zebeque, which, shattered and torn, filled away and made for the open sea. Her captainhad been struck by a piece of shell just as the battle closed; twolieutenants were killed, seventy men were wounded, and eighty-eighthad been killed by the accurate shooting of the "Never-Say-Dies" underCaptain Fortunatus Wright: the invincible. It had been a gallantbattle, gallantly fought by both sides, and gallantly won. 

Bold navigator Wright followed his crippled adversary for severalmiles, then--seeing another French gun-boat threatening his convoy--hereturned to the merchant-ships which had accompanied him; sent themback into Leghorn harbor; and followed, next day, with the proud, butbattered _Saint George_. It had been a glorious victory. 

No sooner had the war-scarred Captain Wright let go his anchor chainsin the harbor of Leghorn than he realized that he had only just begunto fight. 

"Sapristi!" said an Italian official. "This pirate has deceived us!This fellow was allowed but four guns upon his ship and he had twelve. To the jail with this dog! To the prison with this cut-throat!Sapristi!"

A boat soon rowed to the _Saint George_ and an order was delivered toCaptain Wright to the effect that he must bring his vessel into theinner harbor, and, if he did not obey, she would be brought in byItalian gun-boats. Wright--of course--refused. So two big Italianwarships sailed up upon either side of the _Saint George_, ran outtheir guns, and cast anchor. 

"I will not move for the entire Italian Government!" roared CaptainFortunatus. "I will appeal to the British consul for protection, asEngland is at war with France, not with Italy. "

Now was a pretty how-de-do. The Italians were furious with thestubborn privateersman for refusing to obey their orders, but, intruth, the way that he had deceived them in smuggling the extra cannonaboard--when under their own eyes--is what had roused their quick, Tuscan tempers. They thought that they had been sharp--well--here wasa man who was even sharper than they, themselves. "Sapristi!" theycried. "To the jail weeth heem!"

There was a terrific war of words between the British consul and theofficials of that snug, little town. Then, the problem was suddenlysolved, for, two powerful, English men-of-war dropped into the harbor:the _Jersey_ of sixty guns, and the _Isis_ mounting fifty. Theauthorities of Leghorn were told that they had orders from the Admiralof the British, Mediterranean fleet, to convoy any Englishmerchantmen which might be there, and _to release the Saint Georgeimmediately_. Wright threw up his cap and cheered, but the officialsof Leghorn said things which cannot be printed. Thus the _SaintGeorge_ sailed upon her way, unmolested, and was soon taking moreprizes upon the broad waters of the Mediterranean. 

The path of the privateer is not strewn with roses. Captain Fortunatusfound that his reputation had gone abroad and it had not been to hiscredit, for, when he put in at Malta he was not allowed to buyprovisions for his ship. 

"You are a beastly pirate!" said an official. "You cannot purchaseanything here for your nefarious business. "

"I am a privateer!" answered Wright, with anger. 

"A privateer looks just the same to me as a pirate, " sarcasticallysneered the official. And Captain Fortunatus had to look elsewhere forprovisions. 

As he cruised along, a big, French cruiser of thirty-eight guns chasedthe little _Saint George_ as if to gobble her up alive. 

"Boys! We shall now have some fun!" said Captain Wright. "I can sailfaster than this Frenchy. Just watch me!"

So, when the great beast of a French vessel came lumbering by, Wrightplayed with her like a cat with a mouse; sailed around her in circles;shot guns at her rigging--just to aggravate the men from the sunnyland--and then dipped his ensign and went careening away as if nothinghad happened. No wonder that the French hated and despised thisvaliant mariner! Wouldn't you have done so if you had been aFrenchman?

Thus Captain Fortunatus Wright continued upon his privateering, hisfighting, and his cruising; bearing terror to his enemies butsatisfaction to his friends. His name was as well known among thosewho sailed the Mediterranean as was that of the great Napoleon inlater years, and it was just as cordially hated by those who opposedhim. "The Ogre from Leghorn" was one of his titles, while some appliedto him the choice epithet of "The Red Demon from Italy. " At any ratethis did not seem to worry the veteran sea-dog, who continued to takeprizes and make money until the year 1757. Then he disappears fromhistory, for the body of brave, resolute, stubborn, and valiantCaptain Fortunatus Wright mysteriously and suddenly vanished from thisearth. 

What was his end?

Perhaps he perished while boarding the deck of some craft which wasmanned by men as gallant as his own. Perhaps he fell while stemmingthe advance of a crew of wild Frenchmen, eager for his blood andremembering the many victories which he had won over their countrymen. Perhaps, in the wild, wind-tossed wastes of the Mediterranean, hisvessel--unable to cope with the elements--was hurled upon some jaggedrock and sunk in the sobbing waters of the frothing sea. Perhaps hewas captured, hurried to some dark prison, and died in one of thosemany dungeons which disgrace the cities of the Italian coast. Perhapshe was hanged for privateering. 

At any rate, nothing is known of the last days of this dauntlessnavigator save what can be gathered from an old grave in St. Peter'schurchyard, in Liverpool. 

Here is the tombstone of the father of Fortunatus Wright, aninscription upon which, tells us that he was a master-mariner ofLiverpool; that he defended his ship--on one occasion--most gallantlyagainst two vessels of superior force; and that he died, not by thestroke of a boarding-pike, but safely in his own home. To this isadded the information that:

"Fortunatus Wright, his son, was always victorious, and humane to thevanquished. He was a constant terror to the enemies of his king andhis country. " That is all. 

THE DEEP

 There's beauty in the deep: The wave is bluer than the sky; And though the lights shine bright on high, More softly do the sea-gems glow That sparkle in the depths below; The rainbow tints are only made When on the waters they are laid. And sea and moon most sweetly shine Upon the ocean's level brine. There's beauty in the deep. 

 There's quiet in the deep. Above, let tide and tempest rave, And earth-born whirlwinds wake the wave; Above, let care and fear contend With sin and sorrow to the end: Here, far beneath the tainted foam That frets above our peaceful home, We dream in joy, and walk in love, Nor know the rage that yells above. There's quiet in the deep. 

GEORGE WALKER

WINNER OF THE GAMEST SEA FIGHT OF THE ENGLISH CHANNEL

(1727-1777)

 "'War is Hell, ' said General William T. Sherman. But, --better have war than bow to an inferior nation. "--_Doctrines of the Strenuous Life. _

GEORGE WALKER

WINNER OF THE GAMEST SEA FIGHT OF THE ENGLISH CHANNEL

(1727-1777)

 "If Britain can but breed th' men, Who are like Walker made, She'll have no fear of danger, When th' foe starts to invade. When th' foe starts to invade, my boys, An' creep along th' shore, Where th' curling breakers wash th' cliffs, Where th' breeching combers roar. Then, lift a glass to Walker, Of _Glorioso_ fame, _May we ne'er forget his deed lads, _ _May we ne'er forget his name_. "

 --_Chants from The Channel. _--1769. 

It was the year 1739, and the good people of Charleston, SouthCarolina, were in a great state of agitation. Little knots ofmerchants, sailors, clerks, and dock-hands clustered about each otherin the narrow streets. And, above the hub-bub of many voices, could beheard the solemn sentence, oft repeated:

"The pirate is off the narrows! The pirate will soon be here!"

Then all would gaze seaward with startled faces, and would murmur:

"The pirate--the Spanish pirate will be here. "

As they thus stood irresolutely, a strongly-knit fellow came walkingtowards the dock-end. He was clad in gray; his face was deeply seamedby long exposure to the elements; and high top-boots of leatherencased his lower limbs. 

"What ho! Good citizens, " said he. "Do I understand that a Spaniardhas frightened you all? Why, where's your courage?"

"Courage?" answered a rotund-bodied merchant. "Of that we have aplenty. But we have no ship with which to combat this fellow--orfellows--for some of my skippers tell me that there are two of themoff the coast, and that they've captured twenty trading vessels. "

The newcomer smiled. 

"I've got a staunch craft here, " said he. "My name is Walker, and Ihail from Bristol, England. My ship--the _Duke William_--mounts buttwenty guns, and my crew is but of thirty-two, yet, I know that manyof you gentlemen will volunteer your services, particularly if thereis to be a nice little battle. "

"Hear! Hear!" came from all sides. "You're the boy for us! You're thechap we've been looking for! Hear! Hear!"

It did not take long to increase the crew of the _Duke William_. Several of the wealthy colonists volunteered their services; manysailors were there who had been fighting on the Spanish Main. Theywere eager and anxious to join. So, before three days were out, the_Duke William_ spread her canvas for the open sea, carrying onehundred men and an additional twenty guns. Now--you see--she could putup an excellent fight with the average pirate-ship which cruised aboutthe low-lying and sandy coast. 

Out into the broad expanse of the Atlantic glided the little barqueand eagerly the mariners scanned the horizon for some signs of thepirate. 

"She's been hereabouts!" cried one stout seaman. "For several of mymess-mates saw her sails down near the channel islands. And her flagwas surely black with th' skull an' cross-bones. "

"Must have heard that we were coming, then, " growled Captain Walker, "for there's nothing in view. "

In an hour's time he thought differently, for, "Sail ho!" sounded fromthe forward deck, and there, far off to leeward, was the outline of along, blackish vessel, bearing no flag at her mizzen or stern. 

Crowding on all canvas--for the breeze was light--the _Duke William_bore away towards her. "It must be the pirate!" said all, for, alsocrowding on all sail, the vessel headed up the coast, and did herutmost to get away. 

On, on, went pursuer and pursued; on, on, and the _Duke William_ beganto draw dangerously close to the fleeing vessel, which now could beeasily seen. She was a brigantine, carrying about eighteen guns, witha high stern and graceful lines. No flags waved from her mast-heads. 

Suddenly the scudding sea-warrior pointed her nose in-shore, ranaround the corner of a sandy island, and bore away into a seeminglylarge lagoon upon the other side. The _Duke William_ followed, and, asshe rounded a jutting sand-spit, there before her lay a littleschooner, on the deck of which were seen several sailors, waving andgesticulating frantically. Behind, and on the shore, was anearth-work, from which several cannon pointed their black muzzles. Ona flag-pole in the centre, waved a Spanish flag, and, beneath it, ablack ensign upon which was the skull-and-cross-bones. 

"It's the pirate stronghold!" cried several, at once. "We're in for atight skirmish!"

But Captain Walker only smiled. 

The brigantine, which he had been following, now rounded-to, openedher port-holes, and fired a couple of shots toward the pursuing craft. At the same time an English flag was hoisted on the schooner, and afellow on her deck sang out through a speaking trumpet. 

"Thank Heaven you have come! We were only captured two days ago!Hurrah for the English flag!"

The _Duke William_ kept on after the brigantine, her mixed crewyelling with joy, now that they were to have an action. 

_Bang! Bang!_

Her two forward guns spoke, and a shot went ripping through one of theforesails of the pirate. 

This was enough for the fighting spirit of those who sailed theSpanish Main. For, putting about, the brigantine scudded through anarrow channel, known only to her skipper (for no one else could havefollowed without grounding upon a sand-spit), and was soon runningaway upon the opposite side of a low-lying island, now flaunting thepirate-flag from her halyards. 

"She's gone!" sadly remarked the gallant Captain Walker, "but we cancapture the gun-battery. Make ready to go ashore, if needed!"

Steering for the coast, the guns of the _Duke William_ opened upon thesandy barricade, and shot after shot was soon making the dirt andgravel fly in every direction:

_Poom! Poom! Cu-poom!_

The cannon in the earth-work next began to speak, and, it wasapparent, from the strange noises which some of them made, that theywere full of rust. 

_Cu-Poom! Cu-Pow! Chuck-chuck-cu-swash!_ they roared, and a few ballsbegan to whistle about the spars of the _Duke William_. 

There were some accurate marksmen upon the deck of the British vessel, and, as she lay broadside to the fortification, one well-aimed shotstruck a cannon and dismounted it; while another shattered theflag-pole and brought down the flag with a crash. 

"Hurrah!" shouted the men from Charleston. "Now we'll even up withthese cursed pirates for all the damage that they've done us. Now, we'll teach them not to ravage our coasts and catch our merchantships!"

_Cu-whow!_ barked the rust-caked guns of the barricade. "_Go-slow!Go-back! Go-home!_"

To this a full broadside roared, and the balls tore the top of theearth-work to shreds. 

"Now let thirty men take to the boats!" commanded Captain Walker. "Steer for the beach and rush the barricade with pistols andcutlasses. I don't believe that there are more than a dozen men insidethe earth-work. "

"Huzzah!" was the cheerful answer to this order, and, in a fewmoments, several boats were racing for the beach, each eager to be thefirst ashore. 

As they approached, the antiquated guns on the sand-spit becamestrangely silent, and, as the eager raiders rushed valiantly upon thepirate fortress, no shots were fired at them to impede their progress. With a wild yell they leaped over the side of the barricade, only tofind it deserted; for whatever had been the force that had fired thesecannon, it had taken to the brush as the English seamen drew near. Only a few charges of ammunition were there, so it was plainly evidentthat the pirates (whatever their strength might have been) could onlyhave held out for a few more rounds. 

"Hurrah! Hurrah!" shouted the raiders. "The fort is ours!"

"And it's a sorry victory, " said one of the crew, "for there's nothinghere worth the having, except the cannon, and they couldn't stand morethan two more shots without blowing up. I call it a pretty hollowsuccess. "

In spite of this the men of Charleston were well pleased. They haddispersed the pirates; taken their fort; and had re-captured aschooner which had recently been taken only a few miles from theharbor-mouth of that fair, southern city. 

When they sailed into their home port they received a tremendousovation. The bells were rung in all the churches; shots were fired;trumpets were blown. 

"We could fall in with nothing that would stay for us upon the seas, "said Captain Walker, modestly; but, in spite of this, he was treatedlike a great hero. All the influential persons in the Colony offeredto sign a request that he might be given the command of a king's ship;but this he declined. So they tendered him an immense tract of land ifhe would remain in that country and drive off the pirates when nextthey became too bold and daring; but this he also declined, and stuckto his ship. In a few weeks he sailed for the Barbadoes, and then toEngland, in company with three unarmed trading-vessels which placedthemselves under his convoy. The good people of Charleston bade him asad and affectionate farewell. 

George Walker sailed forth smiling, but he was now to have far moretrouble than his little affair with the pirates. 

When half way to England, a terrific gale struck the _Duke William_and her convoys, which separated them by many miles, and made thisgood vessel (which had dispersed the pirates) leak like a sieve. Thegale continued in its violence, while Captain Walker was so ill thatthe ship's surgeon despaired of his life. But note how grit and nervepulled him through!

On the second day of the tempest, a sailor rushed into his cabin, crying:

"Captain! Captain! We'll founder, for the water is pouring into ourbottom by the hogshead. We're gone for unless we take to the boats!"

Captain Walker was not the man to leave his ship in such a crisis. 

"Throw all of the guns overboard, but two!" he ordered. "We need thosein order to signal for help if a vessel comes near us. That willlighten us so that we can still float awhile. "

This was done, but, as the last cannon shot into the waves, a sailorburst into his cabin with the intelligence that the men had preparedto desert in the tenders. 

"Carry me on deck!" roared the resolute captain. "I'll give thesecowards a piece of my mind. "

Three sailors seized him and bore him aloft, where he remonstratedwith his men in the strongest language possible. In spite of this, many clustered about one of the boats. 

"The ship's a-sinking, " cried one. "She won't stand up for an hour. "

As he spoke, the welcome sound of, "Sail ho!" arose, above the washand roar of the angry water. 

Sure enough, a ship was bearing down upon them, but, to the dismay ofall, she hastily hauled off again. 

Captain Walker was astonished. "She thinks us an armed enemy, " saidhe. "Fire a gun, men, and cut the mizzen-mast in two, so that it fallsoverboard. That will show the stranger that we're a friend indistress. "

His orders were immediately obeyed and the mast came ripping andtearing over the side. A gun also roared, and the stranger, nowconvinced that the ship was a friend, and not a foe, came bearing downupon the crippled _Duke William_, to the rescue. 

"She's one of our own convoy!" shouted a seaman, waving his handjoyfully. And such she proved to be. Captain Walker had saved his crewby his foresight and quickness of decision. Had he thrown all of hiscannon overboard he would have had no gun with which to hail thestranger, and, had he not cut away his own mast, she would have goneaway, fearful that he was an enemy. Three cheers for the brave andthoughtful Captain Walker! He reached England, at last, but he and hismen were in a sorry plight, for the vessel which had rescued them wasalmost as unseaworthy as their own, which sank in a great whirl ofeddying foam, not half an hour after they had left her. Thus ended thecareer of the good ship which had chased all of the pirates away fromthe harbor of Charleston. A sad fate, indeed, for such a gallantcraft. 

Captain Walker was not long idle, for he soon took charge of abrigantine trading to the Baltic Sea, in spite of the fact that warhad been declared with France, and the privateers and gun-boats ofthat nation hovered in his path, eager and anxious to secure someEnglish merchant vessel, as a prize. 

"I see that these fellows mean to catch me, if they can, " said thekeen-witted mariner. "So I intend to be ready for them if I do nothappen to be near an English man-of-warsman when they come sailingby. "

He therefore shipped a number of wooden guns, which were paintedblack, so that, at a distance, they looked exactly like the realthing. Upon his vessel were only six cannon, so when--a short timeafterwards--he was chased by a French privateer off the coast ofScotland--he had an excellent opportunity to "bluff" the boldmarauder. 

As the Frenchman drew near, the vessel which Captain Walker was onkept steadily upon her way, and, through his glass, the cautiousmariner saw that his pursuer carried fully twenty guns. 

"Run out our dummy cannon!" he ordered. 

Out were thrust the black, wooden muzzles, twenty-five in number, and--as the Frenchman was now within shooting distance--the Englishboat was luffed into the wind. In a second the British jack, ensign, and man-of-war's pendant were hoisted, and a gun was fired across thebow of the arrogant privateer. 

"Come on!" shouted bold Walker. "I am waiting for you!"

But the enemy did not come on. Instead of this, she turned tail in ahurry, filled away, and made off as fast as a freshening breeze woulddrive her. 

"Ha! Ha! Ha!" laughed the genial, English skipper. "Bluffed by a lotof wooden guns. Ha! Ha! Ha!"

And all of his sailors gave a rousing cheer. 

This was indeed good fortune, but Captain Walker was soon to meetwith some fortune which was quite the reverse. 

It was the year 1744 and the doughty sailor had accepted the commandof the privateer _Mars_, of twenty-six guns and one hundred and thirtymen, which sailed from London for a cruise in the English channel. With her was the _Boscawen_, another privateer with about the samenumber of guns, but with a crew of fully one hundred and eighty. Theysoon had an adventure which was not all to the liking of bold GeorgeWalker. 

At midnight, late in December, the two privateers were running nearthe coast of France. There was a heavy mist and rain, also a freshbreeze, so the steersmen could not well see what way they were going. Suddenly the hulls of two large vessels loomed up in the blackness, and the twinkling lights from their port-holes shone upon the drippingsides of the British privateers. Voices came through the mist--Frenchvoices--so it was apparent that the ships were not friends. 

"Those fellows are showing much alarm, " said Captain Walker, a fewmoments later. "I therefore believe that the vessels are full oftreasure. We'll hang on until daylight, at any rate, and see whetheror no we cannot capture a rich cargo. "

Next morning, at eight o'clock, the fog suddenly lifted, disclosing--not two treasure ships--but two French men-of-war; onebearing seventy-four guns, the other sixty-four. 

"Egad!" ejaculated the startled Walker. "We're in a hornet's nest! Iguess we'd better run for it!"

The Frenchmen, however, were both treasure-ships, as well asmen-of-war; both bound from the West Indies, with cargoes worth aboutfour millions sterling ($20, 000, 000), which they were carrying intothe harbor of Brest. They were not in good fighting trim, as theirheavy cargoes made them low in the water, and very unwieldy. It isprobable that they would not have attacked the two Englishmen, had notthe captain of the _Boscawen_ turned tail and fled, leaving the _Mars_all alone. 

"Did you ever see such a coward?" cried Captain Walker, with heat. "Boys! We're in for it now!"

Sure enough, they were: for the Frenchmen saw that only one enemy wasleft, and immediately sent the sixty-four gun ship--the _Fleuron_--inpursuit. 

Walker turned his vessel about and clapped on all sail, but the largegun-boat quickly overhauled him. 

"Gentlemen!" said Captain Walker, as she rapidly approached. "I do notmean to be so rash as to attempt a regular engagement with so superiora force; all I ask of you is to confide in me and my orders, to getaway--if possible--without striking our flag; and, be assured, I shallnot call upon you to fight unless there is excellent opportunity forsuccess. The ship which pursues us is certainly the better sailer ofthe two French men-of-war; yet, if we have good fortune with ourshots, we may bring down a topmast or yard; or hurt her rigging so asto retard her pursuit. We may yet get entirely clear. So, myhearties, do not lose your nerve!"

These wise remarks were greeted with a "Hip! Hip! Hooray!"

Now was a lively chase. The _Mars_ hoisted the English flag, openedwith her stern guns, and put on all available canvas. But she was nota fast sailer, and gradually but surely, the _Fleuron_ crept up on oneside, and the other French man-of-war upon the other. She, too, hadentered the chase. 

Finally the French vessels had the British privateer directly betweenthem. 

"The jig is up!" cried Captain Walker, sadly. "Gentlemen, we do notstrike to one ship only. Haul down the colors!"

Down came the proud ensign, the sails were lowered, and the gallantWalker entered a boat, in order that he might be put aboard the_Fleuron_ and give up his sword. When he arrived on the deck he foundthe French captain by no means in the politest of humors. 

After receiving the weapon of the vanquished privateersman, theFrenchman thundered in very good English:

"How dare you fire against a force like mine in so small a ship?Sirrah, you must be stark mad. I compliment you upon your lack ofjudgment. "

Captain Walker was nettled. 

"Sir, " he replied, with warmth, "if you will look at my commission youwill find that I had as good a right to fight as you, yourself, had. Furthermore, if my force had not been so inferior to yours, I wouldhave shown you more civil treatment on board my own ship, after I hadcaptured you. "

The Frenchman winced. 

"How many of your bushwhackers have I killed?" said he. 

"None at all, sir!" replied the Englishman. 

"Then, sir, you should be well ashamed of your scurvy fighting. Foryou have killed six of my brave men and have wounded several withpieces of glass. Pray, when, sir, did the rules of war allow glass tobe used as ammunition?"

"You lie, " cried Captain Walker. "No glass was used by my men. "

The Frenchman curbed his anger. 

"Then what was it?" said he. 

Here a British seaman interrupted. 

"If it would please your French Majesty, " he said, with a bow, "Ireckon I know what it was that you took for glass. The captain of oneof our stern guns, when he found out that we must surrender, sir, tookabout sixteen shillings from his pocket, saying: 'Sooner than letthese French rascals plunder me of all I've got in the world, I'll seewhat a bribe can do!' So he wrapped the money up in a bag, sir, crammed it into a gun, and let fly at your deck. Faith, your men werelucky to be struck by good, British coin!"

At this all had a good laugh, and the unpleasantness between theFrench captain and George Walker was at an end. The privateersman wastreated with the greatest courtesy and was made as comfortable ascould be. 

The action took place on Friday and the ships were headed for Brest, about three days' sail away. At daybreak on Sunday morning, four largeboats were sighted astern, and it did not take long to realize thatthey were coming up pretty fast _and were flying the English colors_. 

"Hurray!" shouted Captain Walker. "No French prison for me. Hurray!"

The English squadron gained steadily. The boats grew nearer andnearer, while Walker's hopes soared higher and higher. Finally, theFrench officer, who was in charge of his own boat--the _Mars_--put hishelm up and ran to leeward, hoping to draw one of the British vesselsafter him. He was successful, for a seventy-gun ship made after him, chased him for several miles, and finally re-captured the Englishprivateer. The other ships kept on and drew closer and closer. 

Seeing that an action would soon take place, the French captainpolitely requested Walker and his officers to go below. 

"Messieurs!" said he. "There will soon be a leetle affair in which theballs will fly. You will be better off in the hold, where they cannotreach you so easily as up here. "

"Sir!" replied the English privateer-captain. "I go below with thegreatest of pleasure, for I am now certain of my liberty. Au revoir!"

"Do not count your chickens before they hatch!" cried the Frenchman, after his retreating form. 

The British vessels were the _Hampton Court_ of seventy guns, and the_Sunderland_ and _Dreadnought_ of sixty each; so, being three to two, they should have had a fairly easy victory over the Frenchmen. But the_Sunderland_ lost a spar overboard, and dropped astern; so it left buttwo to two: an even affair. 

Alas for gallant Captain Walker! Although the Englishmen came near thetwo French men-of-war, they hung about without firing a shot; allowedthe Frenchmen to sail on unmolested, and thus carry theirastonishingly rich treasure into Brest, amid wild and enthusiasticcheering of their crews, and groans of disappointment from the Englishprisoners. 

Yet these same prisoners had little cause to complain of theirtreatment when they arrived at Brest; for they were landed at once, and the captain and officers were liberated on parole. The French alsotreated them very well and invited the valorous George Walker to manya repast, where they laughed at the narrow shave that he had had fromdeath, --for they had left the _Fleuron_ none too soon. 

On the day following the landing, Captain Walker was seated in theoffice of a counting-house, near the dock-end, and was writing aletter to the captain of the _Fleuron_, requesting him to send him hisletter-of-credit, which was in a tin box in a cabin of the Frenchman-of-war, when a terrible _Boom!_ sounded upon his ears. 

A sailor came running past the open window. 

"The _Fleuron_ has blown up!" he cried. "The _Fleuron_ is a totalloss!"

Captain Walker dashed into the street; to the end of the quay; andthere a sad spectacle greeted his eager gaze. Strewn about upon thesurface of the water were broken spars; pieces of sail; and the débrisof a once gallant man-of-war. The remnants of the _Fleuron_ wereburning brightly. 

The captain of the French ship came running by. "Helas!" he wailed. "Acareless gunner has destroyed my gallant vessel. Helas! Helas!"

It was too true. Four or five powder barrels had been left in themagazine for saluting purposes, and quite a little loose powder hadbeen allowed to lie upon the floor. Some careless seamen had gone downinto the hold with a decrepit, old lantern. The handle broke, theflame set fire to the loose powder, --and that was the end of thegallant ship _Fleuron_. She burned to the water's edge and then wentdown to the bottom with a dull, sizzling hiss; while the treasure alsodisappeared. Later on, divers secured a part of it, but much that wasof value was never recovered. 

Captain Walker did not long grieve over the loss of hisletter-of-credit, left on board the ill-starred _Fleuron_, for he wasexchanged, after a few weeks, and was sent back to England with hiscrew. This was in 1745. He lost no time in reporting to the owners ofthe _Mars_, and so well did they think of him, that in a short whilethey sent him upon another privateering venture aboard the _Boscawen_, which, as you remember, had run away from the _Mars_, after she hadfallen in with the two French men-of-war. Now occurred his greatestsea-fight. 

The _Boscawen_ had been built in France and had been a prize, takenat sea. She mounted twenty-eight guns (nine-pounders), but Walkeradded two more, and shipped a crew of three hundred and fourteen men. Without waiting for the _Mars_, the stout sea-dog put out to sea onApril 19th, 1745, steering for the shores of France where cruised theprize-laden clipper ships, and the unwelcome men-of-warsmen. TheBritish privateersman cruised about for a whole month without anyluck, and, falling in with the privateer _Sheerness_, joined with herin a little run in search of inoffensive merchantmen. At daybreak acry came from the forward watch, --

"Sails ho! Sails ho! Off the starboard quarter! There're eight o' theman' heading no' east. "

Both the privateers started in pursuit, but the _Sheerness_ was leftfar astern, as the _Boscawen_ was a speedy sailer. The latter drewnear the eight scudding sail, which suddenly veered about and formed aline, awaiting an attack. The _Sheerness_ was way astern. WouldCaptain Walker advance?

It was eight against one, and there was no certainty what was thearmament of the vessels now standing in a row, all ready for action. The faces of the officers on the _Boscawen_ showed anxiety andsuspense, but there was no shadow of fear upon the countenance ofCaptain Walker, who now addressed them in the following words:

"Gentlemen, I hope that you do not think the number of prizes beforeus too many. Be assured, my good friends, that by their being armed, they have something on board of them that is worth defending. I takethem to be merchantmen with letters of marque (privateers), andhomeward bound. Without doubt we shall meet with some opposition, inwhich I know that you will exhibit your usual courage. We must conquerthese superior numbers by superior skill. Be cool. Be careful that youaim correctly, for, as we shall be pressed on all sides, let every mando his best to engage the enemy that he sees before him. 

"In a word, Gentlemen, if you will put full confidence in me forleading you on, I will pawn my life upon the fact that I will bringyou off victorious. "

"Hurray! Hurray for Walker!" came the reassuring response. 

"Then go to your quarters, my hearties! Fight like Britishers of old, and all will be well!" cried the brave mariner. 

Like a hornet among a group of snap-dragons, the _Boscawen_ now sailedinto the centre of the enemy's line. 

"Do not fire until I give the word!" cried Captain Walker, as the saltspray kicked and splashed about the bow of the on-coming _Boscawen_. "Then hammer away like anvils on a sledge!"

Sixty men were ill on board the stout little English privateer, butall save three crawled on deck in order to render what assistance theycould in pointing and handling the guns. 

Now was a glorious fight. 

_Bang! Crash! Z-i-i-p!_

The French privateers were hammering away as the Englishman approachedand their balls cut and tore through the rigging, damaging the mizzentopsail, and splitting a topmast. Steering straight for the largestvessel, Walker waited until he was within close range and then gavethe order:

"Fire, and hull her if you can. "

_Poof! Cr-a-a-sh!_

A blinding broadside rolled from the port of the _Boscawen_, and thesolid shot bit and tore the stranger like a terrier mouthing a rat. 

The valiant little privateer was now in the midst of the enemy. Twowere to right of her; two to the left of her; one across her bow; andone across her stern. Two of the eight decamped, at this juncture;making the odds six, instead of eight, to one. 

"_Pow! Pow! Cu-boom!_"

The vessel astern was banging away like a Banshee, but a sudden_crash_ from the stern guns so badly damaged her that she hauled off. It was now five to one. 

"Keep it up, boys!" cried Walker, above the roar and rattle of thefray. "You're doing splendidly. You all deserve statues in the templeof fame. "

"Huzzah!" shouted his men. "Hurray for the _Boscawen_. Down with theFrenchmen!"

"_Cu-pow! Boom! Boom!_" roared the cannon, while the broadsides fromthe _Boscawen_ were delivered without either confusion or disorder. The five were sparring gamely, but they were lightly armed, with onlya few guns to each, so the thirty nine-pounders on board the Englishprivateer were about an equal match for the greater numbers of thefoe. 

Thus the fight raged for an hour, when, suddenly, the ensign upon themast of the French flagship was seen to flutter to the deck. Tenminutes later a cry arose from a sailor aboard the _Boscawen_:

"Look, Captain, she's sinking!"

Sure enough, the accurate fire from the British privateer had soriddled the hull of the Frenchman, that she fast filled with water, and sank, stern first, her men escaping in their small boats. 

"That's one less, anyway, " mused Captain Walker. 

The remaining four continued the fight, but the little privateer wastoo much for them. Around and around she veered, broadsiding withastonishing accuracy, and knocking the spars about like a foot-ballteam kicking a ball. "_Pow! Pow!_" the guns roared, and the men cried, "Remember the oath of our captain! Let's take 'em all!"

It began to look as if they would do it, too; for, now upon thestarboard quarter appeared the white sails of a vessel, and, as sheapproached, a joyous cheer arose from the deck of the _Boscawen_, forit was the _Sheerness_. 

"Now we'll get 'em! Now we'll get 'em!" yelled the British sailors, and they plied their guns with renewed activity and care. 

Down came the flag upon one of the Frenchmen, and--in a fewmoments--down came another. Then, as the _Sheerness_ rolled closer, two more ensigns fluttered to the deck. There was but one Frenchmanleft, and she made off, with the newcomer hot in pursuit. 

"Hurray! Hurray! Hurray!" The sailors on board the _Boscawen_ werefairly jumping for joy. "Hurray! Hurray! Hurray!" they yelled. 

And well might they cheer, for had they not won one of the pluckiestsea-fights of all history? The enemy is said to have had one hundredand thirteen killed and drowned, while the casualties of the_Boscawen_ amounted to but one killed and seven wounded. "And this, "says an old chronicler of the spirited affair, "was due to the factthat the British privateer had a bulwark of elm-planking, man-high, around her deck. It was so fashioned that there was a step on whichthe marines could mount and fire, and then come down in order to load. Furthermore, this elm-wood did not splinter; but kept out the bullets, and closed up around the holes made by shot. "

At any rate, it was a glorious victory, and when--a few hourslater--the _Sheerness_ came back with the other French vessel a prize, the total capture amounted to six vessels: homeward bound traders fromMartinique, provided with letters of marque, and with about six gunseach. Their crews were undoubtedly undisciplined and ill-used toshooting, else how could they have done so badly with the _Boscawen_?

The prizes were headed for the English coast and arrived at King'sRoad, Bristol, in a few days, where a swarm of eager sight-seerscrowded about the shattered craft. 

"My! My!" said many. "This Walker is another Drake. He is a valiantsoul!"

And so thought the British Admiralty, for they sent him a letter (uponhis reporting to them) which read:

"We cannot too highly congratulate and commend you upon theseamanship and courage which you have displayed in the capture ofthese French vessels. Your daring and ability should always make yourname one to be revered by those Britishers who follow the sea. Mayyour future career upon the ocean but add to the laurels which youhave already won!"

And were they not right?

Seldom has such a feat been accomplished, and seldom has one vesselcome off victorious against such odds. If you love a game warrior, cheer for George Walker, for he deserves it. If you are an admirer ofthe fighting quality in a man, give three times three for theprivateersman who had the nerve to sail into eight vessels, --and wonout. 

So much, indeed, did the British owners of the privateer vessels thinkof Captain Walker, that he was now placed in command of four ships, known as "The Royal Family of Privateers, " for each was named aftersome member of the English royal family. These were the _PrincessAmelia_, of twenty-four guns and one hundred and fifty men: the_Prince Frederick_ of twenty-six guns and two hundred and sixty men:the _Duke_ of twenty guns and two hundred and sixty men; and the _KingGeorge_, of thirty-two guns and three hundred men. This last boat wascommanded by Walker, himself; the _Duke_ by Edward Dottin, a staunchsailor; the _Prince Frederick_ by Hugh Bromedge; and the _PrincessAmelia_ by Robert Denham. The entire squadron carried nearly athousand men and one hundred and two guns, so, you see, that it coulddo quite a little damage to the enemies of Merrie England. 

Sailing in May, 1746, the squadron soon met with hard luck, for the_Prince Frederick_ ran upon a rock in Bristol Channel, and had to beleft behind; for she was badly punctured below the water-line. Thethree others sailed for the coast of France, and--a week later--had astartling little adventure. 

A heavy fog lay over the sobbing water, and the three Englishsea-robbers were gliding along within easy gun-shot of each other, when it was evident that they were near some other vessels. Voicescame out of the mist, lights flashed (for it was near the close ofday), and the wash of water could be heard, as the waves beat againstsolid oak planking. 

"Egad!" whispered Captain Walker to one of his lieutenants. "Listen, my boy, and tell me whether these voices are French, Spanish, orEnglish. "

The lieutenant held a speaking-trumpet to his ear. 

The _swish_, _swish_ of water came to the eager senses of the anxiousprivateersman. That was all!

Captain Walker passed the word around among his men to be absolutelysilent, and, as he strained his hearing, in order to catch thefaintest sound from the strangers, suddenly he heard the sentence, "Pressy! Chantez une chanson. Je vais me coucher. " (Sing a song, Pressy. I am going to bed. )

In a second the gallant Walker knew that, as once before, he was inthe midst of some French vessels. 

"Caught!" he whispered. "And I believe that they're men-of-warsmen!Now we're in a pretty pickle!"

His officers scowled. 

"I know that they're men-o'-warsmen, " said one, "for, just now, thefog lifted for a second, and I could make out--by their lights--thatthey were large gun-ships. "

Captain Walker looked dejected. 

"The deuce, " said he. 

But he soon regained his composure. 

"Put every light out on board, " he ordered. "These fellows see us, forI hear them bearing over our way. "

Sure enough, from the swashing of water and glimmer of lights in thefog, it could be seen that the great lumbering men-of-war were closingin upon the privateer. But the Frenchmen had a human eel to captureand he was equal to the occasion. 

"Bring up a couple of casks from below!" cried Captain Walker. Theywere soon on deck. 

"Now put a lantern in one and lash them together, " he continued. "We'll alter our course and skip, while the Frenchies will follow thislight. "

The ruse worked magnificently, and, when morning dawned and the brightsun burned off the fog, the French men-of-war found themselveshovering around a couple of old casks with a lantern tied to the top;while Captain Walker in the _King George_ was scudding along theFrench coast, many miles away. At which the French captain remarked, "Sapristi! L'oiseau s'est envolé. " (Egad! The bird has flown!)

Not long after this "The Royal Family of Privateers" took somevaluable prizes, and, having chased a small, French merchantman intothe bay of Safia, in Morocco, Captain Walker determined to capture herat night, by sending a party against her in the long-boats. A secondlieutenant was put in charge of this venture, and, at dark threetenders, crowded with armed seamen and propelled by muffled oars, started after the prize. As they neared the merchantman a hail camethrough the blackness:

"Qui est la?" (Who is there?)

No answer was made to this, but the boats kept straight on. 

_Crash! Bang!_

A gun roared in the faces of the privateers, and shots came fallingaround them like hail-stones, --but still they kept on. 

Again _Crash! Crash! Crash!_

The Frenchmen were plying their guns right willingly, but the Englishsailors could not be stopped, and they neared the vessel undervigorous sweeps of the oars. The lieutenant in command was badlywounded, and was forced to lie in the bottom of his boat, but--in afew moments--the tenders were alongside the merchantman, and thesailors, with a wild yell, were clambering to her deck. There was afierce hand-to-hand struggle, but nothing would gainsay the rush ofthe British tars. In twenty minutes the fight was all over and thevessel was towed out of the bay, in triumph, next morning. As she wasa smart, little craft she was turned into a privateer in place of the_Prince Frederick_ (which had run aground) and was christened the_Prince George_. 

The "Royal Family" continued upon its way, made many captures, and--after eight months--put into the harbor of Lisbon with prizes andprize-money amounting to £220, 000 (about $1, 100, 000). So you can seethat privateering was a very lucrative trade in those days, whensuccessfully pursued. Not a single man had been killed aboard thelittle fleet, but many had been severely wounded. The ships wereoverhauled, refitted, and, being joined by the _Prince Frederick_, amounted to six in number, for the vessel captured in the harbor ofSafia had been converted into a full-fledged privateer. Now was to beone of the most gruelling sea-fights in which George Walker everengaged. 

In the month of October the squadron was cruising off of Lagos Bay, onthe coast of Portugal, when a large sail was sighted at about five inthe morning. The _Princess Amelia_ was at anchor in the harbor ofLagos, so Captain Walker sent a small sloop (a recent capture) afterher to tell her to "Hurry up and get under way, " while he gave signalto the other vessels to chase the stranger at once. All started afterthe foreigner, who stood to the northward and could be seen to becrowding on all possible canvas. There were four ships in this merrylittle chase, but two of them--the _Duke_ and the _PrinceGeorge_--dropped out, after about an hour's run. They either couldnot get up, or else their captains grew tired of the affair. 

On, on, went the other privateers, and--at about noon--Walker drewnear the fugitive, in the _King George_. The _Prince Frederick_, withher twenty-six guns, was still some distance away, but Walker keptafter the stranger, although he now saw that she was a largevessel, --much more powerful than the _King George_, with herthirty-two guns and three hundred men. He was rapidly nearing the bigfellow, when it grew suddenly calm, so that neither could move. 

At this moment an ejaculation of astonishment burst from the lips ofsome of the officers aboard the saucy _King George_. 

"She's a seventy-four!" cried several. "We're in a tight hole!"

Sure enough, the pursued hoisted her colors, ran out her guns, andshowed herself to be a man-of-warsman carrying seventy-four cannon:over double the amount of armament aboard the plucky _King George_. 

"I can't make out whether she's Spanish or Portuguese, " said CaptainWalker, gazing carefully at her drooping flag. 

The colors hung down in the dead calm, and it was impossible to tellwhether they were Spanish or Portuguese; for the two ensigns--at thatperiod--were very similar. 

The sea-warriors drifted along, eyeing each other, for about an hour, when the stranger ran in her lower deck-guns and closed herport-holes. 

"She's a treasure ship, " cried a sailor. "And she won't fight if shecan avoid it!"

Walker turned to his officers and asked, "Gentlemen, shall we fight her?"

"Aye! Aye!" came from all. "She's afraid of us!"

The vessel, in fact, was a treasure ship which had been recentlychased by some English men-of-war and had already landed her treasure, to the value of about one million sterling (about $5, 000, 000). Aslight breeze sprang up, at about five in the afternoon, and the bigship kept on her course; the gamey _King George_ following, while thewhite sails of the _Prince Frederick_ were far astern, as the breezehad not yet struck her. So they swashed along, the Englishmen anxiousfor a fight, and a chance to overhaul the supposed treasure which thestranger was carrying. At eight o'clock the _King George_ was struckby a favorable puff of wind, and came quite close to the seventy-four. It was time for battle. 

"What ship is that?" hailed Captain Walker, in the Portuguese tongue. He was cleared for action and his men were all lying down at theirquarters. There was no answer to his challenge. 

"What ship is that?" he asked again; this time in English. 

A voice came back, --also in English, "And what ship may you be?"

"The _King George_. "

_Crash! B-oo-m!_

A thundering broadside belched from the side of the seventy-four, dismounting two guns on the port side of the _King George_, andbringing the main topsail yard crashing to the deck. It was now brightmoonlight, and in its radiance the flag of the stranger was seen toblow straight out, disclosing her nationality to be Spanish. She wasthe _Glorioso_: a strong and powerful vessel, ably officered and ablymanned. She towered above the little _King George_ like achurch-spire, and her broadsides now sputtered with great regularity. 

_Crash! Crash! Crash!_

The sprightly little _King George_ kept after the big warship like asword-fish chasing a whale. She drew so close that some burning wadsfrom the Spanish guns set fire to her mainsail. Continually hopingthat the _Prince Frederick_ would come up, the gallant Walker hammeredaway at the _Glorioso_ with furious precision, and drove her so nearthe rocks off Cape Vincent that the castle guns began to play upon thetwo grappling warriors of the sea. The British sea-captain fought andcommanded with "a calmness peculiar to himself" and his examplesecured order and discipline even in the thickest of the fight, whenthe mainsail was set on fire. He was magnificent in action. 

So the unequal struggle kept on. By half-past ten the _King George_had been so severely damaged aloft that she could not have escaped ifshe had tried. All the braces were shot away; the foremast was quitedisabled; and the mainmast was badly splintered. Battered, torn, anddistressed she kept banging away at the great, towering Spaniard;while the big fellow ceased her fire somewhat, and ever now and againlet go a broadside, like the blow from the mouth of a huge whale. Itsounded like, _Chu-spow!_

[Illustration: ACTION BETWEEN THE "GLORIOSO" AND THE "KING GEORGE" AND"PRINCE FREDERICK" UNDER GEORGE WALKER. ]

But hurrah! hurrah! The _Prince Frederick_ had at last caught thebreeze, and came bouncing by, her little pennons fluttering like somany silk stockings on a clothes-line. 

"Are you all well?" shouted her commander, as he neared the splintered_King George_. "You look as if you're sinking. "

Captain Walker came to the rail with the speaking-trumpet in his hand. 

"One killed and fifteen wounded, " he answered. "Now sail after thatSpanish villain and take her, in revenge for all the damage that shehas done me. She's a treasure ship. "

"All right, " Captain Dottin called back, and he kept on after the_Glorioso_, which was now rapidly drawing away. 

By the bright moonlight it could be seen that the _Duke_ and the_Prince George_ were also approaching. And, when they came closeenough to the maimed and battered _King George_, her captain called tothem, "to keep on after the Spaniard, and catch the rascal. " Theycontinued on their way, and, at daybreak the three vessels could beseen, through the glass, as they closed in upon the Spanish game-cockfrom three sides. "She'll be ours before nightfall, " said CaptainWalker, chuckling. 

The headmost ship, apparently the _Duke_ under Captain Dottin, couldnow be seen to hotly engage the _Glorioso_, which greatly displeasedthe captain of the dismantled _King George_. 

"Dottin will fire away all of his cartridges, " said he, turning to afew of his officers, who clustered around him. "He will shoot them alloff at too great a distance, and will afterwards be obliged to loadwith loose powder, by which some fatal accident is sure to occur. He'sa brave fellow, but a rash one!"

He had scarcely spoken, when a broadside rang out. Simultaneously, with the discharge of the guns, a pillar of smoke and flame shot highinto the air. 

"Good Heavens, the _Duke_ has blown up!" cried Captain Walker. "Dottinand his brave followers have found a watery grave!"

"It is merely the smoke of a broadside, " one of the officersinterrupted. 

"No! No!" answered Walker, dejectedly. "It's the last that will everbe seen of noble Dottin and his men!"

The smoke now cleared away and no ship was to be seen upon the surfaceof the water. The _Glorioso_ was still-belching both smoke and flame, and near her were three sails, indistinctly seen through a haze ofsmoke and fog. Could it not have been the _Duke_, after all? "Vainthought, " cried bold Walker, aloud. "Our bravest and best ship hasgone to the bottom. "

This terrible incident had such an effect upon the seamen of the _KingGeorge_ that Captain Walker called the officers aside into thecompanionway, and there made them a speech. 

"My brave men, " said he, "you must keep up an air of cheerfulnessbefore these fellows of ours, for, otherwise they will be backward infighting, and will not have the courage which we desire. Go among themand show no sign that you are lacking in pleasantry. "

As he ceased speaking there was a series of sudden explosions, mingledwith cries of alarm. 

"Gad zooks! What's happened!" cried all, rushing to the deck. 

They found matters in a sorry state, for the crew was in a panic; someclinging outside the ship; some climbing out upon the bowsprit, allready to jump overboard should the vessel blow up. 

Captain Walker was astonished. "Why, men!" said he. "What means thisconfusion?"

It was easily explained, for the alarm had been caused by a seaman whostepped upon a number of loaded muskets, which had been covered by asail. One was fired off accidentally, and this exploded some spareammunition, set the sail on fire, and completely demoralized the crew;who still were thinking of the sad tragedy which they had justwitnessed. Order was quickly restored, the blazing sail was torn downand bucketed, and the terrified sailors came back to their posts. Whenmen have their nerves shattered, it is easy to startle them. 

But how about the _Glorioso_?

The fair-fighting Spaniard was far out of sight, by now, stillwhanging away at her many enemies, and still proudly flaunting theflag of Arragon in the faces of the British war-dogs, who weresnapping and snarling at her like a wolf pack. What became of her wasnot known for several days, when the poor, battered _King George_staggered into a sheltering harbor, there to meet with the _Duke_herself, which was Dottin's good ship, --the one which all had thoughtto have exploded and sunk. 

"Hurray!" shouted many. "She's afloat after all!"

Eager questioning brought out the fact that it had been the frigate_Dartmouth_ which had exploded; a vessel which had run near the fightin order to see the fun. Some loose powder had set fire to hermagazine, and thus she had suffered the same fate as the _Fleuron_, which, as you remember, had blown up, when at anchor in the harbor ofBrest. _It's a wise ship that keeps away from a sea battle. _

Only seventeen of the crew of this unfortunate craft had been pickedup by the boats of the _Prince Frederick_; one of whom was an Irishlieutenant named O'Brien, who was hauled aboard Dottin's vessel, cladonly in a night shirt. 

"Sirrah!" said he, bowing politely. "You must excuse the unfitness ofmy dress to come aboard a strange ship, but really I left my own insuch a hurry that I had no time to stay for a change. " He had beenblown out of a port-hole!

An additional vessel, the _Russel_, had aided in the capture of thepowerful _Glorioso_, so it had taken four privateers to down the proudCastilian: the _Duke_, the _Prince George_, the _Prince Frederick_, and the _Russel_. Certainly she had put up a magnificent battle andshe had completely crippled the stout little craft sailed by CaptainWalker, who was now filled with chagrin and mortification, when hefound that the treasure (which he had been sure was in the hold) hadbeen safely landed at Ferrol, before he had sighted this valorousman-of-warsman. It was a great blow both to him and to his men, and, upon arriving at Lisbon he was met by one of the owners of his ownvessel, who severely reprimanded him for fighting with such a powerfulboat. 

"Captain Walker, " said he, "I fear that your fighting blood issuperior to your prudence!"

But to this, the game old sea-dog replied, with considerable heat:

"Had the treasure been aboard the _Glorioso_, as I expected, my dearsir, your compliment would have been far different. Or had we let herescape from us with the treasure aboard, what would you have saidthen?"

To these sage reflections the owner did not reply. 

The honesty and courage of this able seaman were never questioned, andthe following incident bears good witness to the first quality. Uponone occasion he was sailing for Lisbon in a well-armed privateer, whena couple of East India trading ships offered him £1, 000 ($5, 000) if hewould act as their guard and protect them from the enemy. 

"Gentlemen, " said he to the captain of these vessels, "I shall nevertake a reward for what I consider it my duty to do without one. Iconsider it my bounden duty to conduct you both safely into port, foryou are both British ships, and I am engaged to fight the enemies ofour King. "

So he convoyed them safely into port and would not take even thesmallest present, in recompense for his services. 

As a fighter he had no superior. War is simply glorified sport andthose who are best trained athletically can usually win upon thebattle-field. Did not Wellington say, "The battle of Waterloo was wonupon the foot-ball grounds of Eton and Harrow?" Which was another wayof saying that the boys who had learned to stand punishment upon theathletic field, could take it manfully and well upon the field ofbattle. 

Walker believed in athletic exercise and made his sailors continuallypractice both gunnery and work with the cutlass. They were always intraining and always prepared. That is the reason why they won. As youknow, if you want to win in athletics you have to train hard andpractice daily. If you want to win at warfare you have to do likewise. The most athletic nation is the nation which will win in the longfight, providing that it has sufficient resources and money to carryout a war, once that it has placed its men in the field. It takes agreat deal of money to fight a war, but it takes trained men also, andthose who are the most fit will win every time. 

The English are an athletic nation, an island nation, and greatnumbers of her people have had to follow the sea as a matter ofcourse. Hence England has always had a vast quantity of well-trainedseamen at her beck and call. For this reason she has been moresuccessful upon the ocean than many of her neighbors. Will shecontinue to be?

_If she continues to breed men like George Walker there is littlereason to doubt that she will always be a winner in sea fighting. _

As for this famous mariner, little is known of his later life savethat he was once imprisoned for debt, but this was no disgrace inthose times and I am sure that he was soon liberated. He diedSeptember 20th, 1777, but where he was buried is not known, nor isthere any record of his marriage. At any rate he has left thereputation of a brave and valiant seaman who was beloved by his men, feared by his enemies, and appreciated by his contemporaries. 

 "Britannia's glory first from ships arose; To shipping still her power and wealth she owes. Let each experienced Briton then impart, His naval skill to perfect naval art. "

BIVOUAC OF THE DEAD

 Their silvered swords are red with rust, Their pluméd heads are bowed; Their haughty banner, trailed in dust, Is now their martial shroud. And plenteous funeral tears have washed The red stains from each brow, And the proud forms, by battle gashed, Are free from anguish now. 

 Yon marble minstrel's voiceless stone In deathless song shall tell, When many a vanished age hath flown, The story how ye fell: Nor wreck, nor change, nor winter's blight, Nor Time's remorseless gloom, Shall dim one ray of glory's light That gilds your deathless tomb. 

[Illustration: From "The Army and Navy of the United States. " AMERICAN PRIVATEER TAKING POSSESSION OF A PRIZE. ]

JOHN PAUL JONES

THE FOUNDER OF THE AMERICAN NAVY

(1747-1792)

 "Every generation has its own war. To forget the disagreeable is a characteristic of the human mind. "--_The Philosopher. _

JOHN PAUL JONES

THE FOUNDER OF THE AMERICAN NAVY

(1747-1792)

 "Why! Shiver my bones! It's John Paul Jones! Johnny the Pirate! Johnny should swing! Johnny who hails from Old Scotlant y' know, Johnny who's tryin' to fight our good King. Shiver my Timbers! We'll catch the old fox! _Clew up those top-sails! Ware o' th' shoals!_ _Fire 'cross his bow-lines! Steer for th' rocks!_ _Ease away on the jib-boom; shoot as she rolls!_

 "Oh! Johnny, my Johnny, you're slick as can be, But, Johnny, My John, you'll be nipped present-ly. "

 --_Song of the English Privateers. _--1794. 

A French frigate lay in the silvery water off Norfolk, Virginia, and, as she swung quietly upon her anchor chains, a small sloop camebobbing alongside. A hail arose from her stern, where sat a man ofabout twenty-eight years; of medium stature, strongly built andswarthy. He was dressed in the gray clothing of a Virginian planter. 

"Hallo, " he shouted in very good French. "May I come aboard?"

"_Certainement! Certainement!_" cried a French officer, as he nearedthe rail. "Welcome, Monsieur Jones!"

And, as the Virginian farmer scrambled upon the deck, he was greetedmost effusively by a handsome nobleman. It was Louis Philippe Joseph, Duke de Chartres; known as "the Sailor Prince of France. " TheVirginian was John Paul Jones, of "Whitehaven" upon the riverRappahannock. 

"I bring you delicacies of the season from my garden, " said theplanter, smiling. "Some for you, and some for the commander--theCommodore de Kersaint. I trust that you will accept them, with mykindest regards. Meanwhile, I beg that you will give me leave toinspect your vessel and obtain information in regard to her plan, construction of the hull, arrangement of the batteries, her spars, herrig and other technical particulars. For, know you, Gentlemen, thatwar has just commenced between Great Britain and her Colonies and thenewly-formed Marine Department of the Government will require aknowledge of ships and their construction. Partly for this I havevisited you. "

Kersaint's face grew sober. 

"Monsieur Jones, " said he, "I have just heard the news from Lexingtonand I am the senior officer upon this coast. France is at peace withEngland. The situation for me is a delicate one. I must refuse toallow you to sketch any plans of my vessel. "

But the young Duke de Chartres looked upon the matter in a differentlight. 

"You shall have all the assistance from me that you wish, " he cried. "I do not fear the displeasure of England. "

So the Virginian planter was allowed to obtain the most complete dataof the new frigate, even to copies of deck plans and sail spread, which he caused his carpenter to make. John Paul Jones was the guestof the Frenchman for two or three days. 

"And now you will visit my plantation, " said he, when the time camefor him to leave. "Is it not so? For there I can repay some of thekindnesses which you have shown me. "

"That we cannot do, " replied the French commander. "It would be mostimpolitic for us to accept entertainment ashore from persons known tobe hostile to King George. But we thank you, exceedingly, for yourkind offer. "

So John Paul Jones proceeded alone to his plantation, and the Frenchwarship sailed for Corunna, Spain, after firing one gun as a salute tothe new-born nation. 

The son of a Scotch gardener of Arbigland, Parish of Kirkbean, theyouthful farmer had emigrated to America, where his brother owned thelarge plantation upon which he now resided. He found his kinsman dyingof what was then called lung fever--in our time pneumonia--and, as hewilled him his Virginian possessions, Jones was soon residing upon"3, 000 acres of prime land, on the right bank of the Rappahannock;1, 000 acres cleared and under plough, or grass; with 2, 000 acres ofstrong, first-growth timber. " He had a grist-mill; a mansion;overseer's houses; negro quarters; stables; tobacco houses; threshingfloors; thirty negroes of all ages; twenty horses and colts; eightyneat cattle and calves; and many sheep and swine. Thus lived thefuture sea-captain; in peace, plenty, and seclusion, at the outbreakof the American Revolution. 

John Paul Jones had gone to sea at the early age of twelve. As amaster's apprentice upon the stout brig _Friendship_, he had sailedfrom Scotland to the North American Colonies, the West Indies, andback again. He had kept to his seaman's life, and--so improved inknowledge of his profession--that he became second mate; then firstmate; then Captain. At twenty-one he had amassed a fortune of aboutone thousand guineas ($5, 000) in gold, --then equal, in purchasingpower, to three times this sum. Besides this he had studied French andSpanish assiduously, so that he could speak the first like a native. It was to be of great help to the ambitious mariner. And he had plentyof nerve, as the following incident bears full witness:

Upon one of his many voyages, the crew was reduced, by fever, to fiveor six hands. One of them was a huge mulatto named Munro--or"Mungo"--Maxwell. They became mutinous, and, as Captain Jones was theonly officer who could keep the deck, it was found necessary to subduethe refractory seaman. 

"Will you obey my orders?" cried Jones, picking up a belaying pin. 

"You go sit down, " cried Maxwell. "I no like you. _Pish!_ I could killyou with one crack. "

John Paul Jones did not answer, but walking towards the big black, hestruck him just one blow with his pin. "Mungo" dropped to the deck andlay there. He never rose again. 

Upon arriving at port, Captain Jones surrendered to the authorities, and asked for a trial. It was given him. 

"Captain Paul, " asked the Judge, "are you, in conscience, satisfiedthat you used no more force than was necessary to preserve disciplineon your ship?"

"May it please the most Honorable Court, Sir, " answered the doughtyseaman, "it became imperative to strike the mutinous sailor, Maxwell. Whenever it becomes necessary for a commanding officer to hit aseaman, it is also necessary to strike with a weapon. I may say thatthe necessity to strike carries with it the necessity to kill, or tocompletely disable the mutineer. I had two brace of loaded pistols inmy belt, and could easily have shot him. I struck with a belaying pinin preference, because I hoped that I might subdue him without killinghim. But the result proved otherwise. I trust that the Honorable Courtand the jury will take due account of the fact that, though amplyprovided with pistols throwing ounce balls, necessarily fatal weapons, I used a belaying pin, which, though dangerous, is not necessarily afatal weapon. "

The judge smiled and Captain Paul was acquitted. 

The famous Lord Nelson once said: "A naval officer, unlike a militarycommander, can have no fixed plans. He must always be ready for _the_chance. It may come to-morrow, or next week, or next year, or never;but he must be _always ready_!" Nunquam non Paratus. (Neverunprepared. )

Paul Jones kept a copy of this maxim in his head. He was always intraining; always on the _qui vive_; always prepared. And--because hewas always prepared--he accomplished what would seem to be theimpossible. 

Shortly placed in command of a sloop-of-war, the _Alfred_ (one of thefour vessels which constituted the American Navy), Lieutenant Jonesassisted in an expedition against Fort Nassau, New Providence Island, in the Bahamas, which was a complete and absolute failure. On the wayhome, and when passing the end of Long Island, his boat was chased bythe twenty-gun sloop-of-war _Glasgow_. The long shot kicked up a lotof spray around the fleet American vessel, but it was of no use. Jonesgot away and sailed into Newport Harbor, Rhode Island, with sails fullof holes and stern-posts peppered with lead. But he was created aCaptain; placed in command of the _Providence_--sloop-of-war, fourteenguns and one hundred and seven men--and soon harried the seas insearch of fighting and adventure. With him were two faithful negroboys--Cato and Scipio--who followed him through the many vicissitudesof the Revolutionary War. 

The seas traversed by the _Providence_ were full of Englishcruisers--superior in size to the saucy American--but inferior inalertness and resources of her commander and her crew. She capturedsixteen vessels--of which eight were sent to port and eight weredestroyed at sea. Twice she was chased by British frigates, and, onone of these occasions, narrowly escaped capture. 

As the little sloop was running into one of the many harbors of thecoast, a fast-sailing frigate bore down upon her from the starboardquarter. 

_Whang!_

Her bow-guns spoke and said "Heave to!"

But Captain Jones had heard this call before, and kept on upon hiscourse. 

"She's got me, " said he. "But, as the breeze is fresh I may run away. Stand ready, Boys, and let go your tackle immediate, when I give thecommand!"

The helm was now put hard-up and the _Providence_ crept into the wind. Closer and closer came the brig--now her bow-guns sputtered--and ashot ricochetted near the lean prow of the _Providence_. But the sloopkept on. 

Suddenly--just as the brig drew alongside--Paul Jones swung his rudderover, wore around in the wind, and ran dead to leeward. 

"Watch her sniffle!" cried the gallant Captain, as the brig_chug-chugged_ on the dancing waves, and, endeavoring to box shortabout, came up into the wind. But fortune favored the Americanskipper. Just then a squall struck the Englishman; she lost steeringway; and hung upon the waves like a huge rubber ball, while herCaptain said things that cannot be printed. 

When in this condition, Jones ran his boat within half gun-shot, gaveher a dose of iron from one of his stern-guns, and--before thefrigate could get squared away--was pounding off before the wind, which was the sloop's best point of sailing. 

"Well, " said the crafty John Paul, his face wreathed in smiles. "Ifthe frigate had simply followed my manoeuver of wearing around undereasy helm and trimming her sails as the wind bore, I could not havedistanced her much in the alteration of the course, and she must havecome off the wind very nearly with me, and before I could get out ofrange. 

"I do not take to myself too great credit for getting away. I did thebest that I could, but there was more luck than sense to it. A good orbad puff of wind foils all kinds of skill one way or the other--andthis time when I saw the little squall cat's-pawing to windward--Ithought that I would ware ship and see if the Britisher wouldn't gettaken aback. The old saying that 'Discretion is the better part ofvalor' may, I think, be changed to 'Impudence is--or may be, sometimes--the better part of discretion. '"

Two kinds of news greeted the slippery sailor when he arrived in port. One was a letter from Thomas Jefferson, enclosing his commission asCaptain in the Continental Navy, by Act of Congress. The other--anepistle from his agents in Virginia, informing him that, during themonth of July previous, his plantation had been utterly ravaged by anexpedition of British and Tories (Virginians who sided with England inthe war) under Lord Dunmore. His buildings had all been burned; hiswharf demolished; his livestock killed; and every one of hisable-bodied slaves of both sexes had been carried off to Jamaica tobe sold. The enemy had also destroyed his growing crops; cut down hisfruit trees; in short, nothing was left of his once prosperous andvaluable plantation but the bare ground. 

"This is part of the fortunes of war, " said Jones. "I accept theextreme animosity displayed by Lord Dunmore as a compliment to thesincerity of my attachment to the cause of liberty. "

Bold words, well spoken by a bold man!

"But, " continued the able sailor, "I most sadly deplore the fate of mypoor negroes. The plantation was to them a home, not a place ofbondage. Their existence was a species of grown-up childhood, notslavery. Now they are torn away and carried off to die under thepestilence and lash of Jamaica cane-fields; and the price of theirpoor bodies will swell the pockets of English slave-traders. For thiscruelty to those innocent, harmless people, I hope sometime, somehow, to find an opportunity to exact a reckoning. "

Again bold sentiments, --and the reckoning, too, was forthcoming. 

"I have no fortune left but my sword, and no prospect except that ofgetting alongside of the enemy, " wrote the impoverished sea-captain toa Mr. Hewes. 

This prospect also was to soon have ample fulfilment. 

Ordered to take command of the _Alfred_, Captain Jones made a shortcruise eastward, in 1776, accompanied by the staunch little_Providence_. The journey lasted only thirty-three days, but, duringthat time, seven ships of the enemy fell into the clutches of the twoAmerican vessels. 

"Aha!" cried Captain Jones, as he rubbed his hands. "This looks morepropitious for our cause. We have taken the _Mellish_ and the_Biddeford_. Let us break into them and see how much of the King'streasure has been secured. "

And it was indeed good treasure!

The _Mellish_ was found to contain ten thousand complete uniforms, including cloaks, boots, socks and woollen shirts, for the wintersupply of General Howe's army; seven thousand pairs of blankets; onethousand four hundred tents; six hundred saddles and complete cavalryequipments; one million seven hundred thousand rounds of fixedammunition (musket cartridges); a large quantity of medical stores;forty cases of surgical instruments; and forty-six soldiers who wererecruits sent out to join the various British regiments then servingin the Colonies. 

The larger prize--the _Biddeford_--carried one thousand seven hundredfur overcoats for the use of the Canadian troops; eleven thousandpairs of blankets, intended partly for the British troops in Canada, and partly for the Indians then in British pay along the northernfrontier; one thousand small-bore guns of the type then known as the"Indian-trade smooth-bore, " with hatchets, knives, and boxes of flintin proportion, to arm the redskins. There were eight light six-pounderfield guns and complete harness and other equipage for the twofour-gun batteries of horse-artillery. Also some wines and tablesupplies for Sir Guy Carleton and a case of fine Galway duellingpistols for a British officer then serving in Canada. 

"These I will appropriate as mine own portion, " cried Captain Jones. "And also a share of the wines, for I must have something to drink thehealth of mine enemy in. " And--so saying--he chuckled gleefully. Ithad been a rich haul. 

But the Captain was not happy. His pet project was to cruise inEuropean waters, and he wanted to get near the British coast with aship--or better--a squadron of some force. 

"Cruises along the American coast, " said he, "will annoy the enemy andresult in capture of small ships and consorts from time to time. Butwho--forsooth--will hear of this in Europe? We will add nothing to ourprestige as a new nation if we win victories upon this side of theocean. "

All who heard him were much impressed by the vehement earnestness ofhis arguments. 

"You have had so much success, Mr. Jones, " said they, "that we feelyou will have still greater good fortune in future years. "

And Jones said to himself: "Oh, if I only could get the chance!"

It soon came, for on June the 14th, 1777, the Continental Congresspassed the following resolution:

"_Resolved:_ That Captain John Paul Jones be appointed to command theship _Ranger_" (a brand-new sloop-of-war which had just been launchedat Portsmouth, N. H. ). 

This boat was designed to carry a battery of twenty long six-poundersand was planned expressly for speed. She was one hundred and sixteenfeet long, twenty-eight feet in breadth, and her bottom was coveredwith copper: the first American ship to be thus protected. CaptainJones put fourteen long nine-pounders in her and only foursix-pounders, but even then she was top-heavy. 

In spite of the fact that it was not quite safe to carry full sail, ifclearing to windward, close-hauled in squally weather; when runningfree--before the wind--she could course through the water like ajack-rabbit. In outward appearance she was a perfect beauty, and, asshe was rather low in the water for her length, and her masts rakedtwo or three degrees more than any other ship of the day, she was--onthe whole--the sauciest craft afloat. Jones was delighted. 

"I have the best crew I have ever seen, " said he. "I believe it is thebest in the world. They are nearly all native Americans, and theproportion of able seamen to the total is much beyond the average. I'mgoing to make one or two short runs off the coast--a day or two at atime--to shake down the sails and find the best trim of the ship. Thenaway to the shores of England and France!"

He waited impatiently for orders to proceed across the blue Atlantic. On October the 18th, 1777, a courier raced frantically intoPortsmouth, crying, "Burgoyne has surrendered! Burgoyne has surrendered!" And Jones'impatience to be off increased ten-fold. 

There were no details of the American victory, for the courier hadreached the sleepy New England town from the field of Stillwater, inabout thirty hours, and it was one hundred and forty-seven miles--asthe crow flies--or, about one hundred and seventy-five by the shortestroad. He had stopped only long enough to saddle a fresh horse andshift his saddle, eating his meals in the stirrups, and never thinkingof rest until he had shouted his tidings for three full days. Thepatriot country was wild with enthusiasm. 

"I will spread the news in France in thirty days, " said Jones, whenhis dispatches were placed in his hands, about midnight of Octoberthe thirty-first. And, running by the whirling eddies of"Pull-and-be-damned" Point, he soon had the _Ranger_ clear of thelow-lying Isle of Shoals: the sea cross and choppy, but the goodship bowling along before a fresh gale of wind. 

"I had sailed with many Captains, " writes Elijah Hall, secondLieutenant of the staunch, little vessel, "but I never had seen a shipcrowded as Captain Jones drove the _Ranger_. The wind heldnortheasterly and fresh 'til we cleared Sable Island and began to drawon to the Banks. Then it came northeast and east-northeast with manysnow squalls, and thick of nights. "

Imagine the situation of the _Ranger_'s crew, with a top-heavy, cranky ship under their feet, and a Commander who day and nightinsisted on every rag she could stagger under, without laying cleardown!

As it was, she came close to beam-ends more than once, and on oneoccasion righted only by letting-fly her sheets cut with hatchets. During all this trying work Captain Jones was his own navigatingofficer, keeping the deck eighteen or twenty hours out of thetwenty-four; often serving extra grog to the men with his own hands;and, by his example, silencing all disposition to grumble. In theworst of it, the watch and watch was lap-watched, so that the menwould be eight hours on to four off; but no one complained. It speakswell alike for commander and crew that not a man was punished or evenseverely reprimanded during the terrific voyage. 

But Captain Jones made good his boast. He actually did land atNantes--upon the coast of France--early in the morning of Decembersecond, 1777, thirty-two days out from Portsmouth. His crew werejubilant, and sang a song which ran:

 "So now we had him hard and fast, Burgoyne laid down his arms at last, And that is why we brave the blast, To carry the news to London! Heigh-ho! Carry the News! Go! Go! Carry the News! Tell old King George that he's undone! He's licked by the Yankee squirrel gun. Go! Go! Carry the news to London!"

And Captain John made haste to proceed to Paris, placing thedispatches in the hands of Dr. Franklin early upon the fifth day ofDecember, --travelling two hundred and twenty miles in sixty hours. Hereturned to his ship about the middle of the month, to find thatseveral of the crew were mutinous. 

"See here, Captain, " said one--a seaman from Portsmouth, NewHampshire--"Me and my pals enlisted at home after readin' a hand-billwhich said that we wuz to get $40. 00 apiece extra, for this cruise. Now, your young Lieutenant tells us that the reg'lations of Congresssay that we are to only get th' reg'lar salary allotted by those oldpals, who make our laws. We came with you thinkin' that we wuz ter gitthis money, and, by gum, we intend to git it!"

"Calm yourself, my good fellow, " said Jones soothingly. "If thehand-bill said that you were to receive $40. 00 you shall have it. Youshall get this sum even if I have to pay it myself. "

And this he did. 

"I would not deceive any man who has entered or may enter, to serve inmy command, " remarked John Paul Jones. "I consider myself as beingunder a personal obligation to these brave men, who have cheerfullyenlisted to serve with me, and I accept their act as a proof of theirgood opinion of me, which I value so highly, that I cannot permit itto be dampened in the least degree, by misunderstanding, or failure toperform engagements. I wish all my men to be happy and contented. Theconditions of the hand-bills will be strictly complied with. "

Accordingly he disbursed one hundred and forty-seven guineas (about$800. 00) out of his own pocket, in making good the terms of thehand-bill. Is it any wonder that the gallant seaman was popular withhis followers?

But the _Ranger_ lay at Brest--eager for action--her light sailsfurled; her spars shining with new varnish; her polished guns winkingin the rays of the sun. 

"Come, my Hearties!" cried Captain Jones on April the 10th, "we'll hieus out to the west coast of Ireland and see if our new ship cannotmake a good name for herself. "

Sails were hoisted upon the staunch, little vessel. Her bow was turnedtoward the ocean--and--with the new flag of the infant republicfluttering from her masts, the _Ranger_ went forth for battle, forplunder, and for glory. She was to get a little of each. 

Arriving off the coast of Cumberland, and, learning from fishermendecoyed on board, that there was a large amount of shipping in theharbor of Whitehaven, with no warship of superior force in theneighborhood to protect it, the bold American skipper resolved to makea dash into this quiet cove, with a view of destroying the ships therein port. The British authorities had no suspicion of his presence inthe Irish Sea. 

As the _Ranger_ drew near to Whitehaven, the wind blew such a galefrom the southwest, that it was impossible to land a boat. 

"We must hold off until the breeze slackens!" cried bold CaptainJones. "This cannot last forever, and our opportunity will soon behere. "

Sure enough--the wind died out about midnight of April 22nd--and the_Ranger_ beat up towards the town. When about five hundred yards fromthe shore, the vessel was hove to--two boats were lowered--andtwenty-nine seamen, with third Lieutenant Wallingford, MidshipmenArthur Green and Charles Hill, jumped into them. With Jones in commandthey hastened toward the coast. 

The surprise was complete. Two small forts lay at the mouth of theharbor, but, as the seamen scrambled ashore, they were precipitatelyabandoned by the garrison of "coast-guards. " Captain Jones, MidshipmanGreen, and six men rushed shouting upon one of these, capturing itwithout an effort; the other was taken by Lieutenant Wallingford andeight sailors, --while four were left behind as a boat-guard. A fewpistols spattered, a few muskets rang; but, when the stout sea-dogsreached the tidal basin, where the shipping lay, the townsfolk werethoroughly aroused. Burning cotton was thrown on board of the shipslying at anchor, but only one took fire. It was full daylight, and theinsignificance of Jones' force became evident to the townsfolk, whowere rallying from all directions. 

"Retreat to the ships, " shouted the Yankee Captain, "there is no timeto lose!"

The landing party--small as it was--had become separated into twogroups; one commanded by Jones, the other by Wallingford. Thinkingthat Wallingford's party was, for the moment, more seriously menacedthan his own, Jones attacked and dispersed--with his dozen men--aforce of about one hundred of the local militia who were endeavoringto retake the lower fort, or battery, whose guns had been spiked bythe Americans. The townsfolk and coast-guards had joined and weremaking a vigorous assault upon Wallingford. But shots flew thick andfast from the muskets of the followers of the daring Paul Jones--asthey retreated to their own boats. The whole landing party--with theexception of one man--finally leaped safely into the boat, and were onboard the _Ranger_ before the sun was an hour over the horizon. 

Jones was delighted. 

"The actual results of this affair, " said he, "are of little moment, as we destroyed but one ship. The moral effect--however--is verygreat, as it has taught the English that the fancied security of theircoasts is a Myth. "

In fact this little raid of the valiant John Paul made the Governmenttake expensive measures for the defense of numerous ports hithertorelying for protection upon the vigilance and supposed omnipotence ofthe navy. It also doubled the rates of marine insurance; which was themost grievous damage of all. 

"Now to attack a castle!" cried Jones, "and bag an Earl, too, if he isaround!"

The _Ranger_ was headed for Solway Firth--not more than three hours'sail away--where, upon St. Mary's Isle, was the castle of the Earl ofSelkirk. 

"If we can catch the noble owner of this keep, " said John Paul, "wewill hold him as hostage for the better treatment of Americanprisoners in England. "

As luck would have it, the Earl was away at this particular time, and, although the wild sea-dogs of the _Ranger_ carried off several piecesof silverware from the castle, this was all that was captured. LuckyEarl! But, had he fallen into the clutches of John Paul, he would havebeen treated with the greatest consideration, for the Captain of the_Ranger_ was the most chivalrous of conquerors. 

The _Ranger_ stood across the Irish Channel and next day ran into somefisher boats. 

"Ah! Ha!" laughed one of the sons of Ireland. "The _Drake_--theguard-ship at Carrickfergus--is after you, and she's a twenty-gunsloop-of-war. "

John Paul smiled. 

"To lessen trouble, " said he, "I'll heave-to off the mouth of BelfastLough and wait for her to work out. This will save her the pains ofcoming after me. "

So he luffed his ship, lay to, and waited for the _Drake_ to sail on. Her white sails could be seen more clearly as she neared theadventurous American. A boat was sent out to reconnoitre--but--as itapproached, it was surrounded by tenders from the _Ranger_; amidshipman and five men in her, were made prisoners. Tide and windwere both against the _Drake_; she came on slowly; and, at an hourbefore sundown, was just within hail. The sea was fairly smooth, thewind southerly and very light. 

"What ship is that?" sounded from the deck of the _Drake_. 

"The American Continental ship _Ranger_, " rang the clear reply. "Layon! We are waiting for you!"

Both ships bore away before the wind and neared each other to withinstriking distance. _Boom!_ a broadside roared from the side of the_Drake_, and the fight had begun. 

_Crash! Crash!_ Muskets spoke from the rigging of the _Ranger_, whereseveral seamen had climbed in the endeavor to pick off the gunners onthe deck of the British warship. There were one hundred andfifty-seven men upon the _Drake_; Paul Jones had one hundred andtwenty-six. The _Drake_'s battery was sixteen nine-pounders and foursixes. Thus--you see--the advantage was clearly with the Britishers. 

Both boats swung along under full canvas, pounding away at each otherlike prize-fighters. Spars were shattered; sails ripped; mastssplintered in the hail of iron. And--as the fight progressed--it couldbe plainly seen that the marksmanship of those upon the _Drake_ wasinfinitely less accurate than that of the Americans. 

"Every shot of our men told, " said Jones--not long afterwards. "Theygave the _Drake_ three broadsides for two, right along, at that. Thebehavior of my crew in this engagement more than justifies therepresentations I have often made, of what American sailors would do, if given a chance at the enemy in his own waters. We have seen thatthey fight with courage on our own coast--but fought here, almostin hail of the enemy's shore. "

[Illustration: From "The Army and Navy of the United States. " "BEGAN TO HULL THE 'DRAKE' BELOW THE WATER-LINE. "]

As the two ships were going off the wind, which was light, they bothrolled considerably, and together; that is, when the _Ranger_ wentdown to port, the _Drake_ came up to starboard. The gunners upon thequarter-deck of the _Ranger_ timed their guns, so that they were firedas their muzzles went down and the enemy's side arose. By thispractice they began to hull the _Drake_ below the water-line. 

"Sink the English! Sink the English!" cried the powder-blackenedfighters. 

But Captain Jones thought differently. 

"Don't sink her!" he yelled to gunner Starbuck, above the din ofbattle. "I want to take her alive, instead of destroying her; for itwill be much more to our advantage if we carry her as a visible prizeinto a French port. "

"All right, Cap'n!" shouted his men. "We'll cripple her aloft!"

They now fired as the muzzles rose, and, so terrific were theirbroadsides, that the fore and main topsail-yards came tumbling acrossthe starboard quarter, in a tangle of ropes, sails, and rigging. 

"Rake her! Rake her!" shouted Jones to his men. 

The _Ranger_ luffed and crossed the stern of the _Drake_ with thepurpose of spanking a full broadside down her decks. The British boatwas badly crippled and had lost steering way. 

But, before the well-aimed guns belched another destructive volleyinto the shattered Englishman, a white flag went aloft, and a voicecame: "Hold your fire. We surrender!" The _Drake_ was aprisoner-of-war. 

Thus Paul Jones had won a notable victory, and thus he had proved thatthe British were not invincible, and could be defeated, upon the sea, by their own cousins, as readily as upon the land. 

When the _Ranger_ lay in the harbor of Brest, a few days later, withthe _Drake_ alongside, boats crowded about in order to view the vesselwhich had captured another, --larger than herself. And, as the _Ranger_had taken three merchant ships on the way to the coast of France, theblack eyes of the natives shone with beady lustre as they gazed uponthe graceful hull of the victorious sloop-of-war from Portsmouth, NewHampshire. 

"See Monsieur Jones, " said they, as they nudged each other. "Voilà!Here is a man who is better than our own sailors. Look at thisAmerican sea-devil!"

And the chest of John Paul Jones swelled with pride. 

Eager and active, the gallant Commodore was most unhappy during thenext few months, for the _Ranger_ was ordered back to America--underhis Lieutenant Simpson. Twenty-seven of his crew, however, elected toremain and fight with him, when he should get another command, --amongthem a little Narragansett Indian called Antony Jeremiah. 

"Me like to see big gun shoot, " said he. "Me like to walk on deck ofenemy's big boat when you take it! Byme-by we take bigger ship than_Drake_ and kill heap more enemy! Ugh! Ugh!"

At this John Paul laughed. 

"Antony Jeremiah, " said he, "you shall witness one big fight if youstay with John Paul. You wait and see!"

And what John Paul had said soon came to pass. 

"The French, " writes the doughty warrior, "have little conception ofan expedition such as I propose; to harry the coast and destroy thecommerce of the enemy. Their idea is to leave all of that toprivateers, of which I have already been offered a dozen commands. Some of the ships they fit out as privateers are really respectablefrigates in size, and I have seen one, called the _Monsieur_, thatmounts thirty-eight or forty guns. But I do not wish to engage inprivateering. My object is not that of private gain, but to serve thepublic in a way that may reflect credit on our infant navy and giveprestige to our country over the sea. "

Noble sentiments--nobly expressed!

In spite of the gloomy outlook he at last secured a vessel from theKing himself, called the _Duras_, which he re-christened "_Le BonHomme Richard_"--"_The Good Richard_"--the name assumed by Dr. Benjamin Franklin when writing his famous "Almanack, " except that hecalled him "Poor Richard. " This was a well-merited compliment to thegreat and good man, who was then Commissioner from the United Statesto France, and a firm friend to the ardent John Paul. The vessel hadforty guns, "and, " writes the Minister of Marine, "as you may findtoo much difficulty in enlisting a sufficient number of Americans, theKing permits you to levy French volunteers, until you obtain a fullcrew. "

John Paul hastened to get her ready for a cruise. "I mountedtwenty-eight long twelve-pounders on the gun-deck, " he says, "puteight of the long nines on the quarter-deck, and discarded thesix-pounders of her old battery. This gave her a battery of forty-twoguns, throwing two hundred and fifty-eight pounds of metal in a singlebroadside. She was the fair equivalent of a thirty-six gun frigate. "

From February to June she was worked over; refitted; resparred. OnJune 19th, 1779, the gallant John Paul Jones swung out into theEnglish Channel; he, himself, in command of the _Good Richard_, whichcarried a crew of three hundred and seventy-five, not more than fiftyof whom were Americans. Four other vessels were with him: the_Alliance_, a thirty-two gun frigate; the _Pallas_, a twenty-eight gunfrigate; the _Vengeance_, a twelve gun brig; and the _Cerf_, a cutter. 

On the second day out the _Alliance_ fouled the _Richard_, causing somuch damage to both, that the squadron was compelled to return to portfor repairs, which--with other transactions--consumed six weeks. Butthe accident was a lucky one, for numerous American sailors, who werein English prisons, were shortly exchanged with English seamen inFrench dungeons; and thus Paul Jones was able to man the _GoodRichard_ with one hundred and fourteen native Americans, who wereanxious to have a crack at those who had captured them but a shorttime before. 

Finally, with refitted ships and reorganized crews, Paul Jones wasready to sail from the roadstead of Isle de Groaix, in the early partof August, 1779, bound upon his cruise around the British Islands. There were four ships in this squadron: the _Good Richard_; the_Alliance_, under Pierre Landais (a depraved and dishonest Frenchman);the _Pallas_, under Cottineau (an honest Frenchman); and the_Vengeance_, a sloop-of-war. The prevailing winds were light andbaffling, so the squadron moved slowly. 

War had been declared between France and England, and thus the EnglishChannel was thronged with privateers from both countries. The_Richard_ and a French privateer, in company, re-captured a large shipbelonging to Holland, but bound from Barcelona to Dunkirk, France, which had been taken some days before by an English vessel off CapeOrtegal and ordered into Falmouth, England. England and Holland werestill at peace, at this time, but the English claimed the right tointercept and send into their own port for examination, all neutralvessels bound to French ports, as England and France were then at war. Commodore Jones took the English prize-crew out of the Dutch ship, asprisoners of war, and then ordered the ship into l'Orient in charge ofher own crew, but under the command of one of his midshipmen, untilshe could come under the protection of a French port. 

"Things are going well with us!" cried Captain Jones, rubbing hishands gleefully. 

He soon felt much happier. For, on the morning of August 23rd, when inthe vicinity of Cape Clear, the _Richard_ sent three boats, andafterwards a fourth, to take a brig that was becalmed in the northwestquarter--just out of gun-shot. It proved to be the _Fortune_, ofBristol, bound from Newfoundland for her home-port with whale-oil, salt fish, and barrel staves. Manned by a prize-crew of two warrantofficers and six men, she was sent to Nantes. 

All were happy. All were looking forward to a good fight. It was tocome to them. 

The little fleet of war-dogs sailed northward, and, on September 1st, about ten o'clock in the morning, the northwest promontory of Scotlandwas sighted. At the same instant, two large ships bore in sight on thesame quarter, and another vessel appeared to windward. 

"Bear up! Bear up!" cried Jones. 

The _Richard_ held over toward the first two ships until he saw thatit was the _Alliance_ and a prize she had taken about daylight, --avessel bound for Jamaica, from London. 

"Now chase the other fellow!" he cried, turning the wheel with his ownhands, and soon the _Good Richard_ was bounding over the waves in hardpursuit of the second sail. Slowly but surely she was overhauled. Heavily armed, she did not surrender until after the exchange ofseveral shots, which the _Richard_ pumped into her, after running upclose enough to show her broadside. 

A boat soon carried a number of seamen to take possession of her, andshe proved to be the British privateer, the _Union_, mountingtwenty-two six-pounders, and bound northward from London to Quebec, inCanada, laden with a cargo of naval and military stores for theBritish troops and flotillas on the Lakes. The _Union_ also carried avaluable mail, including dispatches for Sir William Howe, in New York, and Sir Guy Carleton, in Canada. "These were lost, " writes John Paulto good Doctor Franklin, at Paris, for the _Alliance_ imprudentlyshowed American colors, though English colors were still flying on the_Bon Homme Richard_; "the enemy thereby being induced to throw hispapers of importance overboard before we could take possession ofhim. " The prizes were manned from the _Alliance_ and sent (by Landais)into the seaport of Bergen, in Norway. 

The squadron now beat down the east coast of Scotland, and, aftercapturing five or six small prizes, rounded-to off the Firth of Forth. 

"I intend to attack the port of Leith!" cried Jones, "as I understandthat it is defended only by a small guard-ship of twenty-two guns, andan old fortification (old Leith Fort) garrisoned by a detachment ofMilitia. "

The wind was adverse, blowing off shore, with frequent heavy squalls, but about noon of the 17th of September, the _Richard_ and the_Pallas_ beat up within gun-shot of Leith Fort and were lowering awaytheir tenders in order to land, when a heavy Northwest gale sprang up, compelling them to hoist their boats, and put to sea. The gale lastedabout twenty-four hours, but, on the morning of the 19th, the windtook another turn, the sea grew calm, and Jones proposed to renew theattack upon Leith. The Commander of the _Pallas_ made strong objectionto this. "I do not believe that we should stay here, " cried he. "If wepersist in the attempt to remain on this station three days longer, weshall have a squadron of heavy frigates, if not a ship of line, todeal with. Convinced of this, I offer it as my judgment that we hadbetter work along the shore to-day and to-morrow, as far as SpurnHead, and then, if we do not fall in with the Baltic merchant fleet, stand off the coast and make the best of our way to Dunkirk. "

Commodore Jones spent a few moments in reflection. "You are probablyright, Cottineau, " said he. "I only wish that another man like youwere in command of the _Alliance_. However, we cannot help what is andmust make the best of it. Go aboard your ship and make sail to thesouth-southwest. Speak the _Vengeance_ as you run down, and tellRicot--her commander--to rendezvous off Spurn Head. I will bring upthe rear with this ship. We may fall in with the Baltic fleet betweenhere and Scarboro', which is usually their first English port ofdestination at this time of the year. Should you happen to sight the_Alliance_, inform Captain Landais of our destination, but do notcommunicate it to him as an order, because that would be likely toexpose you only to insult. "

The two ships turned South, and the next three days were withoutevents of importance. At length they neared the harbor of Scarboro', and, as they hovered about twelve miles off the land, they saw somevessels making for the shore, and protecting a fleet of merchantmen. 

"They're a heavy man-of-war--either a fifty-gun frigate, or afifty-four--with a large ship-of-war in company, " cried one of hisLieutenants, who had been watching them through a glass. "The Captainof the larger one has cleverly manoeuvered to protect his merchantship. "

Commodore Jones seemed to be much pleased. 

"At last we'll have a little fight, " cried he. "Bear hard for theland, and get between the larger vessel and the shore!"

Captain Cottineau was signalled to and requested to go after thesloop-of-war. About sundown the _Richard_ succeeded in weathering thelarge frigate and manoeuvered between her and the land. 

The ships neared each other very gradually, for the breeze was slight. They were on opposite tacks and Commodore Jones readily made out theforce and rate of his antagonist. By the light of the dying day--forit was about seven P. M. --he saw that she was a new forty-four; aperfect beauty. It was the _Serapis_--Captain Richard Pearsoncommanding--but six months off the stocks and on her first cruise as aconvoy to the Baltic fleet of merchantmen: consisting of about fortyvessels laden with timber and other naval stores for the use of theBritish dockyards. Jones had hoped to have an opportunity to attackthis flotilla, but his plans had been frustrated by the vigilance andskill of the commander of the men-of-war in convoy. 

Even now Landais might have got among the merchantmen in thefast-sailing _Alliance_, while Jones and Cottineau occupied theattention of the two men-of-war; but the French officer did not havesufficient courage to tackle them, and kept well beyond strikingdistance. 

The Captain of the _Serapis_ stood upon the deck, intently gazing atthe on-coming vessel. 

"Gad Zooks!" he uttered. "From the size of her spars and her heightout of water I take her to be a French fifty of the time of the lastwar. It's too dark for me to see whether she has any lower ports ornot. " He raised his night glasses to his eyes, and, in the light ofthe full moon which was now flooding the sea with a silvery haze, sawthat his opponent was intent upon a fight. 

"It is probably Paul Jones, " said he, lowering the glasses. "Ifso--there's tight work ahead. What ship is that?" he cried out in loudtones. 

No answer came from the dark hull of the _Good Richard_, but, as sheswung nearer upon the rolling waves, suddenly a flash, a roar, and asheet of flame belched from her side. The battle was on!

It was a struggle which has been talked of for years. It was a battleabout which the world never seems to tire of reading. It was _the_battle which has made the name of John Paul Jones nautically immortal. 

The two warriors of the deep were on the same tack, headed northwest, driven by a slight wind which veered to the westward. The sea wassmooth, the sky was clear, the full moon was rising--the conditionsfor a night struggle were ideal. 

_Crash! Crash! Crash!_

Broadside after broadside rolled and shrieked from ship to ship, asthe air was filled with flying bits of iron. 

_Crash! Crash! Crash!_

Travelling very slowly, for the wind was little more than sufficientto give them steering-way in the tide, the two antagonists driftedalong for twenty minutes, at cable length (600 to 900 feet--about thedistance of the 220 yard dash). But suddenly--_Boom!_ an explosionsounded in the gun-room of the _Good Richard_. Two of hereighteen-pounders had blown up back of the trunnions; many of the crewlay dead and dying, the after part of the main gun-deck was shatteredlike a reed: Senior Midshipman and Acting Lieutenant John Mayrant--whohad command of this battery--was severely wounded in the head by afragment of one of the exploded shells, and was scorched by the blastof flame. 

"Abandon your guns!" shouted First Lieutenant Dale, "and report withyour remaining men to the main-deck battery!"

"All right!" answered Mayrant, as he bound a white kerchief aroundhis bleeding head. "I'll be with you just as soon as I give them onemore shot. "

This he endeavored to do, but not a gun could be touched off. "The oldsixteen-pounders that formed the battery of the lower gun-deck, did noservice whatever, except firing eight shots in all, " writes John PaulJones. "Two out of three of them burst at the first fire, killingalmost all the men who were stationed to manage them. "

The gunnery of the _Good Richard_ was excellent. Though her batterywas one-third lighter than that of the _Serapis_; though her gun-crewswere composed--to a great extent--of French volunteers, who had neverbeen at sea before--in quickness and rapidity of fire, the shells fromthe American fell just as accurately as did those from the Britisher;pointed and gauged by regular, trained English men-of-war seamen. Theroar of belching cannon was deafening. The superior weight and energyof the British shot began to tell decisively against the sputteringtwelve-pounders of the _Richard_, in spite of the fact that they werebeing served with quickness and precision. As the two battlingsea-monsters drifted slowly along, a pall of sulphurous smoke hungover their black hulls, like a sheet of escaping steam. They weredrawing nearer and nearer to each other. 

It was now about a quarter to eight. Wounded and dying littered thedecks of both Britisher and American, but the fight was to the death. 

"Luff! Luff!" cried Captain Pearson, as the _Richard_ began to forgenear him. "Luff! Luff! and let fly with all guns at the water-line. Sink the Yankee Pirate!"

But Paul Jones was intent upon grappling with his adversary. Quicklyjerking the tiller to one side, he shoved the _Richard_ into the windand endeavored to run her--bows on--into the side of his opponent. The_Serapis_ paid off, her stern swung to, and, before she could gatherway, the _Richard_'s jib-boom shot over her larboard quarter and intothe mizzen rigging. 

Jones was delighted. 

"Throw out the grappling hooks!" cried he, in shrill tones. "Holdtight to the Britisher and be prepared to board!"

In an instant, many clawing irons spun out into the mizzen stays ofthe _Serapis_; but, though they caught, the lines holding them soonparted. The _Serapis_ fell off and the _Richard_ lurched ahead. Neither had been able to bring her broadsides to bear. 

"We can't beat her by broadsiding, " cried Jones. "We've _got_ toboard!"

_Crash! Crash! Crash!_

Again the cannon made the splinters fly. Again the two game-cocks spatat each other like angry cats, but, the fire from the _Richard_ wasfar weaker than before. 

Commodore Jones walked hastily to the gun-deck. 

"Dick, " said he to Lieutenant Dale, "this fellow's metal is too heavyfor us at this business. He is hammering us all to pieces. We mustclose with him! We must get hold of him! Be prepared at any moment toabandon this place and bring what men you have left on thespar-deck--and give them the small arms for boarding when you comeup. "

Lieutenant Dale saluted. 

"All right!" cried he. "I'll be with you in a jiffy, Commodore. "

As Jones walked hastily to the main deck--the Lieutenant ran to thestore-room and dealt out cutlasses, pistols and pikes, to the eagermen. The deck was red with blood. 

The worst carnage of all was at "number two" gun of the forward, starboard division. From the first broadside until the quarter-deckwas abandoned, nineteen different men were on this gun, and, at thistime, only one of the original crew remained. It was the littleIndian, Antony Jeremiah; or, as his mates called him, "Red Cherry. "

"Let me join you, " he cried, as he saw Mayrant's boarding party. Seizing a cutlass and dirk, he stood beside the cluster of men, eagerand keen to have a chance at the enemy. A soul of fire was that of thelittle savage--and now he had a splendid opportunity to indulge in thenatural blood-thirst of his race, for an Indian loves a good fight, particularly when he is upon the winning side. 

The vessels swung on slowly--the fire from the _Serapis_ still strongand accurate; the sputtering volleys from the _Richard_ growing weakerand weaker. Only three of the nine-pounders on the starboardquarter-deck were serviceable; the entire gun-deck battery was silentand abandoned. 

"We have him, " cheerfully cried Captain Pearson to one of his aides. "But, hello"--he continued, "what sail is that?"

As he spoke the _Alliance_ came bounding across the waves, headed forthe two combatants, and looking as if she were to speedily close thestruggle. 

"The fight is at an end, " said Jones, jubilantly. 

Imagine his astonishment, chagrin, and mortification! Instead ofpounding the English vessel, the French ally discharged a broadsidefull into the stern of the _Richard_, ran off to the northward, closehauled, and soon was beyond gun-shot. 

"Coward!" shouted John Paul, shaking his fist at the retreating ally. "I'll get even with you for this if it takes me twenty years!"

No wonder he was angered, for, with his main battery completelysilenced, his ship beginning to sink, nearly half his crew disabled, his wheel shot away, and his consort firing into him, there remainedbut one chance of victory for John Paul Jones: to foul the enemy andboard her. 

Luckily a spare tiller had been fitted to the rudder stem of the_Richard_ below the main tiller--before leaving port--because of thefear that the wheel would be disabled. The foresight of the Commodorehad effected this; and now--by means of this extra steering-gear--thebattered warrior-ship was enabled to make one, last, desperate lungefor victory. It was touch and go with John Paul Jones. 

"I could distinctly hear his voice amid the crashing of musketry, "says a seaman. "He was cheering on the French marines in their owntongue, uttering such imprecations upon the enemy as I have neverbefore or since heard in French, or any other language. He exhortedthem to take good aim, pointed out the object of their fire, andfrequently took their loaded muskets from their hands in order toshoot them himself. In fact, towards the very last, he had about him agroup of half a dozen marines who did nothing but load their firelocksand hand them to the Commodore; who fired them from his own shoulder, standing on the quarter-deck rail by the main topmast backstay. "

Luck now came to the disabled _Richard_. A fortunate puff of windstruck and filled her sails, shooting her alongside of the growling_Serapis_, and to windward. The canvas of the Britisher flappeduselessly against her spars. She was blanketed and lost steering-way. In a moment the jib-boom of the English vessel ran over the poop-deckof the American ship. It was seized, grappled by a turn of smallhawsers, and made fast to the mizzen-mast. 

"She's ours!" cried John Paul Jones. "Seize that anchor and splice itdown hard!"

As he spoke, the fluke of the starboard anchor of the _Serapis_ hookedin the mizzen chains. It was lashed fast, and the _Richard_ had beensaved. 

_Rattle! Rattle! Crash!_ sounded the muskets of the French marines. The English tried to cut their anchor chains and get free, but all whoattempted to sever these hawsers were struck dead by the accurateballs from the marksmen on the poop-deck and round-house of the_Richard_. 

"I demand your surrender!" shouted Pearson. 

[Illustration: From an old print. "THEY SWARMED INTO THE FORECASTLE AMIDST FIERCE CHEERS. "]

"Surrender?" cried John Paul Jones. "Why, I am just beginning tofight!"

Then he turned to John Mayrant, who stood ready to rush across thehammock-nettings into the waist of the enemy's ship. Twenty-sevensailors were nearby, each with a cutlass and two ship's pistols. 

"Board 'em!" he cried. 

Over the rail went the seamen--monkey-wise--over the rail, JohnMayrant leading with a dirk in his teeth, like a Bermuda pirate. Theyswarmed into the forecastle amidst fierce cheers, the rattle ofmusketry, and the hiss of flames. Just at the moment that JohnMayrant's feet struck the enemy's deck, a sailor thrust aboarding-pike through the fleshy part of his right thigh. _Crack!_ apistol spat at him, and he fell prostrate. 

"Remember Portsea jail! Remember Portsea jail!" cried the dauntlessraider, rushing down into the forecastle with his wild, yelpingsailors. Pearson stood there; crest-fallen--abashed. 

Seizing the ensign-halyards of the _Serapis_, as the raging torrent ofseamen rolled towards him, the brave English sea-captain hauled theflag of his ship to the deck. 

The _Richard_ had won!

"He has struck; stop firing! Come on board and take possession!"yelled Mayrant, running to the rail. 

Lieutenant Dale heard him, and, swinging himself on the side of the_Serapis_, made his way to the quarter-deck, where Captain Pearson wasstanding. "I have the honor, sir, to be the first Lieutenant of thevessel alongside, " said he saluting. "It is the American Continentalship _Bon Homme Richard_, under command of Commodore Paul Jones. Whatvessel is this?"

"His Britannic Majesty's late man-of-war the _Serapis_, sir, " was thesad response, "and I am Captain Richard Pearson. "

"Pardon me, sir, " said the American officer, "in the haste of themoment I forgot to inform you that my name is Richard Dale and I mustrequest you to pass on board the vessel alongside. "

Pearson nodded dejectedly. 

As he did so, the first Lieutenant of the _Serapis_ came up frombelow, and, looking at Captain Pearson, asked, "Has the enemy struck, sir?"

"No, sir! _I_ have struck!" was the sad reply. 

"Then, I will go below and order our men to cease firing, " continuedthe English Lieutenant. 

But Lieutenant Dale interrupted. 

"Pardon me, sir, " said he, "I will attend to that; and, as foryourself, please accompany Captain Pearson on board the shipalongside. "

With reluctant steps the two officers clambered aboard the battered_Good Richard_, where Commodore Jones received them with muchcourtesy. 

Bowing low, Captain Pearson offered him his sword. His firstLieutenant did likewise. 

"Captain Pearson, " said the victorious John Paul, "you have foughtheroically. You have worn this weapon to your own credit and to thehonor of your service. I hope that your sovereign will suitablyreward you. "

The British commander was the image of chagrin and despair. He bowedagain, and then walked slowly into the cabin, followed by hiscrest-fallen Lieutenant. 

It was nearly midnight. The full moon above--in a cloudless sky--madeit almost as light as day. Seven feet of water were in the hold of the_Richard_; she had sunk so much that many shot-holes were below thewater-line and could not be plugged. Nearly sixty of her crew lay deadupon her decks; more than a hundred and twenty were desperatelywounded. Every twelve-pounder of the starboard broadside was eitherdismounted, or disabled. The starboard side, which had been oppositethe _Serapis_'s eighteen-pounders, was driven so far in, that, but fora few frames and stanchions which remained, the whole gun-deck wouldhave fallen through. She was afire, and the flames licked upward withan eager hiss. 

"Take the wounded aboard the _Serapis_!" commanded Captain Jones. "Wemust desert our good ship!"

In an hour's time all were upon the deck of the vanquished Britisher. No one was left on the _Richard_ but the dead. The torn and tatteredflag was still flying from the gaff, and, as the battered sea-warriorgradually settled in the long swell, the unconquered ensign fluttereddefiantly in the slight breeze. At length the _Bon Homme Richard_plunged downward by the head; her taffrail rose momentarily on high, and, with a hoarse roar of eddying bubbles and sucking air, theconqueror disappeared from view. To her immortal dead was bequeathedthe flag which they had so desperately defended. 

 * * * * *

So ended the great battle. Thus Paul Jones had made his name immortal. And by it he was to be known for all time. 

This was not the end of his career, by any means. He never againfought for the infant Republic of the United States. But he became anAdmiral in the Russian Navy: battled valorously for the great EmpressCatherine against the Turks, and died in Paris, July 18th, 1792. 

Buried at the French capital, his body was disinterred in the year1905, and brought to the United States, to be entombed with militaryhonors, at Annapolis, Maryland. 

Paul Jones loved brave men. The braver they were the more he lovedthem. When he went ashore and happened to meet his old sailors--everyone of whom he knew and called by his first name--they seldom failedto strip his pockets of the last shilling. He was generous to a faultand faithful to his friends. His time, his purse, his influence werealways at the call of those who had served under him. A typicalsea-dog: a brave fighter, --

Then, why not give three times three for John Paul Jones?

Are you ready?

THE ESCAPE

 'Tis of a gallant, Yankee ship that flew the Stripes and Stars, And the whistling wind from the west-nor'-west blew through her pitch-pine spars: With her starboard tacks aboard, my Boys, she hung upon the gale; On the Autumn night, that we passed the light, on the old Head of Kinsale. 

 It was a clear and cloudless eve, and the wind blew steady and strong, As gayly, o'er the sparkling deep, our good ship bowled along; With the foaming seas beneath her bow, the fiery waves she spread, And, bending low her bosom of snow, she buried her lee cat-head. 

 There was no talk of short'ning sail, by him who walked the poop, And, under the press of her pounding jib, the boom bent like a hoop! And the groaning, moaning water-ways, told the strain that held the tack, But, he only laughed, as he glanced aloft, at the white and silvery track. 

 The mid-tide met in the Channel waves that flow from shore to shore, And the mist hung heavy upon the land, from Featherstone to Dunmore, And that sterling light in Tusker Rock, where the old bell tolls each hour, And the beacon light, that shone so bright, was quenched on Waterford tower. 

 What looms upon our starboard bow? What hangs upon the breeze? 'Tis time that our good ship hauled her wind, abreast the old Saltees, For, by her pond'rous press of sail, and by her consorts four, We saw that our morning visitor, was a British Man-of-War. 

 Up spoke our noble Captain--then--as a shot ahead of us passed, -- "Haul snug your flowing courses! Lay your topsail to the mast!" Those Englishmen gave three loud cheers, from the deck of their covered ark, And, we answered back by a solid broad-side, from the side of our patriot barque. 

 "_Out booms! Out booms!_" our skipper cried, "_Out booms! and give her sheet!_" And the swiftest keel that e'er was launched, shot ahead of the British fleet, 'Midst a thundering shower of shot, --and with stern-sails hoisting away, Down the North Race _Paul Jones_ did steer, just at the break of day. 

 --_Old Ballad. _

CAPTAIN SILAS TALBOT

STAUNCH PRIVATEERSMAN OF NEW ENGLAND

(1751-1813)

 "If you want ter learn how ter fight, why jest fight. "--_Dock-end Philosophy. _

CAPTAIN SILAS TALBOT

STAUNCH PRIVATEERSMAN OF NEW ENGLAND

(1751-1813)

 "Talk about your clipper ships, chipper ships, ripper ships, Talk about your barquentines, with all their spars so fancy, I'll just take a sloop-o'-war with Talbot, with Talbot, An' whip 'em all into 'er chip, an' just to suit my fancy. 

 "So, heave away for Talbot, for Talbot, for Talbot, So, heave away for Talbot, an' let th' Capting steer, For, he's the boy to smack them, to crack them, to whack them, For he's th' boy to ship with, if you want to privateer. "

 --_Ballads of Rhode Island. _--1782. 

A trading vessel, laden with wheat, from Cardigan in Wales, was lyingto in the English Channel. Nearby rolled a long-bodied AmericanPrivateer, while a boat neared the trader, in the stern of which sat astaunch, weather-beaten officer in a faded pea-jacket. It was the year1813 and war was on between England and the United States. 

When the blustering captain entered the cabin to survey his prize, hespied a small box with a hole in the top, on which was inscribed thewords, "Missionary Box. " He drew back, astonished. 

"Pray, my bold seaman, " said he, turning to the Welsh captain, "whatis this?"

"Oh, " replied the honest, old sailor, heaving a sigh, "'tis all overnow. "

"What?" asked the American privateersman. 

"Why, the truth is, " said the Welshman, "that I and my poor fellowshave been accustomed, every Monday morning, to drop a penny each intothat box for the purpose of sending out missionaries to preach theGospel to the heathen; but it's all over now. "

The American seemed to be much abashed. 

"Indeed, " said he, "that is very good of you. " And, pausing a fewmoments, he looked abstractedly into the air, humming a tune beneathhis breath. 

"Captain, " said he, at length, "I'll not hurt a hair of your head, nortouch your vessel. "

So saying, he turned on his heel, took to his boat, and left theWelshman to pursue its even course. And--as the privateer filled awayto starboard--a voice came from the deck of the helpless merchantman, "God bless Captain Silas Talbot and his crew!"

But we do not know what the owners of the privateer said to the humaneskipper about this little affair when he returned to New York. Theymight have uttered hard words about a Welshman who scored upon him bymeans of a pious fraud. At any rate Silas Talbot had done a good deed. 

This valorous privateer was born at Dighton, Massachusetts, on theSakonet River about the year 1752; beginning his career at sea as acabin-boy. At twenty-four he was a captain in the United States armyand fought in the Revolutionary war, for a time, on land. But--byreason of his nautical training--he was placed in command of afireship at New York, and was soon promoted to be Major--but stillwith duties upon the water and not the shore. While here, a soldiercame to him, one day, with his eyes alight in excitement. 

"Major, " said he, "there's a chance for a splendid little enterprise. Just off the coast of Rhode Island, near Newport, lies a Britishvessel, moored to a kedge. She mounts fifteen guns and around her isstretched a stout netting to keep off a party of boarders. But we cancut it and get through, I'll warrant. And the game is worth thecandle. "

Young Talbot was delighted at the thought of a little expedition. 

"I'll tell you how we'll cut through, " said he. "We'll fix a smallanchor at the bowsprit of our sloop. Then, we'll ram her into thenetting at night, and--if our vessel can punch hard enough--we'll haveforty Americans upon the deck before you can say 'Jack Robinson. '"

The soldier laughed. 

"Major Talbot, " said he, "you are a true fighting man. I'll have acrew for you within twenty-four hours and we'll take the good sloop_Jasamine_, lying off of Hell Gate. Ahoy for the capture of theEnglishman!"

In two days' time, all was ready for the expedition. The sloop_Jasamine_ slowly drifted into the harbor of New York, an anchorspliced to her bowsprit, a crew of sturdy adventurers aboard; and, filling away in a stout sou'wester, rolled down the coast in thedirection of Rhode Island. Reaching the vicinity of Newport, she layto behind a sheltering peninsula, waiting for the night to come, sothat she could drop down upon the Englishman under the cloak ofdarkness. 

Blackness settled upon the still and waveless water. With muffled oarsthe sloop now glided towards the dark hull of the British gun-boat;her men armed to the teeth, with fuses alight, and ready to touch offthe cannon at the slightest sign of discovery. All was still upon thetowering deck of the war-vessel and the little lights twinkled at herbow. 

But what was that?

Suddenly a voice came through the darkness. 

"Who goes there?"

No answer came but the dip of the oars in unison. 

"Who goes there? Answer, or I fire!"

Again the slow beat of the oars and nothing more. 

_Crash!_

A musket spoke from the jutting bow in front of the sloop and a bulletstruck in the foremast of the staunch attacker, with a resoundingz-i-n-n-g!

"We're discovered, " whispered Talbot. "Pull for your lives, men, andpunch her like a battering-ram. When we've cut through the netting, let every fellow dash upon her decks, and fight for every inch youcan. "

As he ceased speaking, the bow of the sloop struck the ropingstretched around the man-o'-warsman, and a ripping and tearing wasplainly heard above the crash of small arms, the shouts of men, andthe rumble of hawsers. Two cannon spoke from the side of theEnglishman, and, as their roar echoed across the still ocean, theguns of the _Jasamine_ belched forth their answer. 

[Illustration: "TALBOT, HIMSELF, AT THE HEAD OF HIS ENTIRE CREW, CAMELEAPING ACROSS THE SIDE. "]

The anchor attached to the bowsprit had done what was desired. It torea great hole in the stout netting, ripped open a breach sufficientlywide for entrance to the deck, and, as the cannon grumbled and spat atthe sloop, --the bowsprit was black with jack-tars scrambling for anopportunity to board the Britisher. 

"Now, men, " shouted Major Talbot, above the din. "Swing our craftsideways! Let go the port guns, and then let every mother's son rushthe foe! And your cry must be, 'Death and no quarter!'"

As he ceased, the good _Jasamine_ was forced sideways into theman-o'-warsman, and, propelled by the current, drifted against herwith tremendous force, crushing the remaining nets as she did so. Afew of the Americans were already on the deck in a terrific strugglewith the half-sleepy English seamen, but--in a moment--Talbot, himself, at the head of his entire crew, came leaping across the side. 

Now was a scene of carnage. The cutlasses of both Yankee tar andBritish, were doing awful execution, and pistols were cracking likehail upon the roof. Back, back, went the English before the vigorousassault of the stormers, and, as the deck was now piled with the deadand dying, the commander of the man-o'-warsman cried out, "I surrender! Cease, you Yankee sea-dogs. You're too smart for me!"

So saying, he held up a handkerchief tied to his cutlass, and thebattle ceased. 

The story of the fight of Silas Talbot's was now on every lip, andall praised the daring and courage of this valorous Major, who was asbold as a lion, and as courageous as any seaman who sailed upon thesea. 

Promotion came rapidly to the soldier-sailor. In 1779 he became acolonel and was placed in command of the _Argo_, a sloop of about onehundred tons, armed with twelve six-pounders, and carrying but sixtymen. 'Tis said that she looked like a "clumsy Albany trader, " with onegreat, rakish mast, an immense mainsail, and a lean boom. Her tillerwas very lengthy, she had high bulwarks and a wide stern--but, inspite of her raw appearance, she could sail fast and could show aclean pair of heels to most vessels of twice her size. 

Shortly after taking charge of this privateer, word was brought thatCaptain Hazard of the privateer _King George_ was off the coast ofRhode Island. 

"That's what I want, " cried Captain Talbot, slapping his knee. "Thisfellow Hazard is an American. He was born in Rhode Island, and, instead of joining in our righteous cause against the Mother Country, he has elected to fight against us. For the base purpose of plunderinghis old neighbors and friends, he has fitted out the _King George_ andhas already done great damage on the coast. Let me but catch the oldfox and I'll give him a taste of American lead. I'll put a stop to thedepredations of this renegade. "

The _King George_ had fourteen guns and eighty men, but this did notworry staunch and nervy Silas Talbot. He started in pursuit of her, assoon as he learned of her whereabouts, and, before many days, sighteda sail just off the New York coast, which was hoped to be the vesselof the renegade. 

Mile after mile was passed. Hour by hour the _Argo_ ploughed after thesilvery sails, until, late in the afternoon, the stranger hovered neara shallow harbor on the coast, and seemed to await the on-comingprivateer with full confidence. 

The _Argo_ boomed along under a spanking sou'wester and, sailing nearthe stranger, to the keen eyes of Talbot came the welcome sight of_King George_ painted upon the stern of the rakish privateer. 

"All hands man the guns, " cried he. "We'll sink th' rascally Hazardwith all his crew, unless he strikes. She's got more men and guns, butwhat care we for that. Take hold, my Hearties, and we'll soon make herknow her master. "

The _King George_ seemed to welcome the coming fight; she luffed; layto; and her men could be seen standing ready at the polished cannon. Now was one of the strangest battles of American sea history. 

The _King George_ cruised along under a full spread of canvas, jibbed, came about upon the port quarter of the stranger, and ran up to withinshooting distance, when a broadside was poured into the deck of therolling _Argo_. She replied with her own fourteen guns, and, beforethey could be reloaded, the _King George_ struck her alongside; theAmerican seaman swarmed across the rail; and--if we are to believe ahistorian of the period--"drove the crew of _King George_ from theirquarters, taking possession of her, without a man on either side beingkilled. " Hats off to the doughty Silas Talbot for this braveadventure! Did you ever hear of such a fight with no man ever beingslaughtered?

Again rang the fame of Silas Talbot, but he was not to rest long uponlaurels won. The British privateer _Dragon_--of three hundred tons andeighty men--was hovering near Providence, Rhode Island, hungry andeager for unprotected merchantmen. 

"I'll have to strike her, " said Captain Talbot. 

It was a beautiful day in June. As the _Dragon_ drowsed alonglistlessly a dozen miles off the shore, her topsails barely filling inthe gentle southerly breeze, the watch suddenly stirred, and sang outin no gentle tones, "Sail ho, off the starboard! Looks like Captain Talbot of the _Argo_!"

The captain came bounding from his cabin, glass in hand. 

"Sure enough, " said he, scanning the white sails upon the horizon. "It's Talbot and we're in for a tight affair. All hands prepare foraction!"

There was noise and confusion upon the deck of the privateer as theguns were sponged, charges were rammed home, and all prepared forbattle. Meanwhile, the stranger came nearer, and rounding to withinstriking distance, crashed a broadside into the slumbering _Dragon_, who had not yet shown her fangs. 

_Crackle! Crackle! Boom!_

The small arms from the Britisher began to spit at the advancingprivateer, and seven of her fourteen guns rang out a welcome to thesailors of Rhode Island. The solid shot ploughed through the rigging, cutting ropes and spars with knife-like precision. 

"Round her to on the port quarter!" shouted Captain Talbot, "and getnear enough for boarding!"

But, as the _Argo_ swung near her antagonist, the _Dragon_ droppedaway--keeping just at pistol-shot distance. 

"Run her down!" yelled the stout Rhode Islander, as he saw thismanoeuvre of his wily foe. Then he uttered an exclamation of disgust, for, as he spoke, a bullet struck his speaking trumpet; knocking it tothe deck, and piercing it with a jagged hole. 

"Never mind!" cried he, little disconcerted at the mishap. "Give it toher, boys!"

Then he again uttered an exclamation, for a bounding cannonball--ricochetting from the deck--took off the end of hiscoat-tail. [1]

 [1] A true incident vouched for by two historians. 

"I'll settle with you for that, " yelled the old sea-dog, leaping to acannon, and, pointing it himself, he touched the fuse to the vent. Apuff of smoke, a roar, and a ball ploughed into the mainmast of therocking _Dragon_. 

Talbot smiled with good humor. 

"Play for that, my brave fellows, " he called out, above the din ofbattle. "Once get the mainmast overside, and we can board her. "

With a cheer, his sailors redoubled their efforts to sink the_Dragon_, and solid shot fairly rained into her hull, as the twoantagonists bobbed around the rolling ocean in this death grapple. Thus they sparred and clashed for four and a half hours, when, with agreat splitting of sails and wreck of rigging, the mainmast of the_Dragon_ trembled, wavered, and fell to leeward with a sickening thud. 

"She's ours!" yelled Captain Talbot, through his dented speakingtrumpet. 

Sure enough, the _Dragon_ had had enough. Her wings had been clipped, and, in a moment more, a white flag flew from her rigging. 

"The _Argo_ is sinking! The _Argo_ is sinking!" came a cry, at thismoment. 

"Inspect the sides of our sloop, " cried Talbot. 

This was done, immediately, and it was found that there were numerousshot-holes between wind and water, which were speedily plugged up. Then, bearing down upon the crippled _Dragon_, she was boarded; aprize-crew was put aboard; and the _Argo_ steered for home, her mensinging, "Talk about your gay, old cocks, Yankee, Doodle, Dandy, 'Si' Talbot he can heave the blocks, And stick like pepp'mint candy. 

 "Yankee--Doodle--Shoot and kill, Yankee--Doodle--Dandy, Yankee--Doodle--Back an' fill, Yankee--Doodle--Dandy. "

Silas Talbot, in fact, had done extremely well, but, not content withhis laurels already won, he soon put out again upon the _Argo_, incompany with another privateer from Providence, Rhode Island, calledthe _Saratoga_; which sailed under a Captain Munro. They were not offthe coast more than two days when they came across the _Dublin_; asmart, English privateer-cutter of fourteen guns, coming out of SandyHook. Instead of running away, she ploughed onward, and cleared foraction. 

The _Argo_ and the _Saratoga_ ran in upon the windward quarter andbanged away with audacity. The fight lasted for an hour. Then--as the_Argo_ tacked in closer in order to grapple and board--the _Saratoga_was headed for the privateer. But--instead of coming in--she began torun off in the wind. 

"Hard a-weather! Hard up there with the helm!" cried Captain Munro. 

"It is hard up!" cried the steersman. 

"You lie, you blackguard!" cried Munro. "She goes away lasking! Harda-weather I say again!"

"It is hard a-weather, I say again, captain, " cried the fellow at thetiller. 

"Captain Talbot thinks that I am running away when I want to joinhim, " cried Munro. "What the deuce is the matter anyway?"

"Why, I can tell you, " cried a young Lieutenant. "You've got an irontiller in place of the wooden one, and she's loose in the rudder head, so your boat won't steer correctly. "

"Egad, you're right, " said Munro, as he examined the top of thetiller. "Now, jam her over and we'll catch this _Dublin_ of oldIreland, or else I'm no sailor. We'll give her a broadside, too, whenwe come up. "

The _Argo_, meanwhile, was hammering the Englishman in good fashion, and, as the _Saratoga_ pumped a broadside into her--raking her frombow to stern--the _Dublin_ struck her colors. 

"Two to one, is too much odds, " cried the English captain, as a boatneared the side of his vessel. "I could have licked either of you, alone. "

And, at this, both of the American privateersmen chuckled. 

Old "Si" Talbot was soon in another fight. Three days later he chasedanother sail, and coming up with her, found his antagonist to be the_Betsy_: an English privateer of twelve guns and fifty-eight men, commanded by an honest Scotchman. 

The _Argo_ ranged up alongside and Talbot hailed the stranger. After abit of talk he hoisted the Stars and Stripes, crying, "You must haul down those British colors, my friend!"

To which the Scot replied:

"Notwithstanding I find you an enemy, as I suspected, yet, sir, Ibelieve that I shall let them hang a little longer, with yourpermission. So fire away, Flanagan!"

"And that I'll do, " yelled Talbot. "Flanagan will be O'Toole andO'Grady before the morning's over. For I'll beat you like an Irishconstable from Cork. "

So it turned out. Before an hour was past, the _Betsy_ had struck, thecaptain was killed, and all of his officers were wounded. 

"Old Si"--you see--had had good luck. So well, indeed, had he fought, that in 1780 he was put in command of a good-sized vessel, the_General Washington_. In her he cruised about Sandy Hook in search ofspoil. 

One hazy day in August, the watch sang out, "Several sail astern, Sir! Looks like a whole squadron!"

Talbot seized the glass and gazed intently at the specks of white. 

"Egad! It _is_ a squadron, " said he, at length. "And they're after me. Crowd on every stitch of canvas and we'll run for it. "

So all sail was hoisted, and the _General Washington_ stood out tosea. 

But the sails of the pursuers grew strangely clear. They came closer, ever closer, and Talbot paced the deck impatiently. 

"Gad Zooks!" cried he, "I wish that I could fly like a bird. "

He could not fly, and, in two hours' time the red flag on the foremastof a British brig was clear to the eyes of the crew of the privateer. When--an hour later--a solid shot spun across his bow, "Old Si" Talbothove to, and ran up the white flag. He was surrounded by six vesselsof the English and he felt, for once, that discretion was the betterpart of valor. 

 * * * * *

"Old Si" was now thrown into a prison ship off Long Island and thenwas taken to England aboard the _Yarmouth_. Imprisoned at Dartmoor, hemade four desperate attempts to escape. All failed. 

In the summer of 1781 he was liberated; found his way home to RhodeIsland; and died "with his boots on" in New York, June 30th, 1813. Theold sea-dogs of his native state still cherish the memory of "CaptingSi;" singing a little song, which runs:

 "He could take 'er brig or sloop, my boy, An' fight her like 'er man. He could steer 'er barque or barquentine, An' make her act jest gran! 'Ole Si' wuz 'er rip-dazzler, His flag wuz never struck, Until 'er British squadroon, Jest catched him in th' ruck. 

 "So drink 'er drop ter 'Ole Si, ' Sky-high, Oh my! Drink 'er glass ter 'Ole Si, ' th' skipper from our kentry. Give three cheers fer 'Ole Si, ' Sky-high, Oh my! Give three cheers fer 'Ole Si, ' th' pride o' Newport's gentry. "

[Illustration: From "The Army and Navy of the United States. " AMERICAN PRIVATEER CAPTURING TWO ENGLISH SHIPS. ]

CAPTAIN "JOSH" BARNEY

THE IRREPRESSIBLE YANKEE

(1759-1818)

 "Never strike your flag until you have to. And if you have to, why let it come down easy-like, with one, last gun, --fer luck. "--_Maxims of 1812. _

CAPTAIN "JOSH" BARNEY

THE IRREPRESSIBLE YANKEE

(1759-1818)

 If you would hear of fighting brave, Of war's alarms and prisons dark, Then, listen to the tale I tell, Of Yankee pluck--and cruising barque, Which, battling on the rolling sea, There fought and won, --Can such things be?

It was about eight o'clock in the evening. The moon was bright, and asthe privateer _Pomona_ swung along in the fresh breeze, her Captain, Isaiah Robinson of New York, laid his hand softly upon the shoulder ofhis first officer, Joshua Barney, saying, "A ship off the lee-quarter, Barney, she's an Englishman, or else myname's not Robinson. "

Barney raised his glass. 

"A British brig, and after us, too. She's a fast sailer and isoverhauling us. But we'll let her have a broadside from our twelveguns and I believe that we can stop her. "

The _Pomona_ carried thirty-five men. Laden with tobacco for Bordeaux, France, she was headed for that sunny land, --but all ready for afight, if one should come to her. And for this she carried twelveguns, as her first officer had said. 

The British boat came nearer and nearer. Finally she was close enoughfor a voice to be heard from her deck, and she ran up her colors. Acry came from the black body, "What ship is that?"

There was no reply, but the Stars and Stripes were soon floating fromthe mainmast of the American. 

"Haul down those colors!" came from the Britisher. 

There was no answer, but the _Pomona_ swung around so that her portguns could bear, and a clashing broadside plunged into the pursuer. Down came her fore-topsail, the rigging cut and torn in many places, and, as the American again showed her heels, the British captain criedout, "All sail aloft and catch the saucy and insolent privateer!"

Then commenced one of the most interesting running actions of Americannaval history. 

"The cursed American has no stern-gun ports, " said the Britishsea-captain. "So keep the ship abaft, and on th' port quarter, wherewe can let loose our bow-guns and get little in return. "

This was done, but--if we are to believe an old chronicler of theperiod--"The British crew had been thrown into such confusion by the_Pomona_'s first broadside that _they were able to fire only one ortwo shots every half hour_. "

"By Gad, " cried Joshua Barney to Captain Robinson, about this time, "let's cut a hole in our stern, shove a cannon through it, and whalethe British landlubber as he nears us for another shot with herbow-chasers. "

The captain grinned. 

"A good idea, Barney, a good idea, " he chuckled. "Now we can teach herto keep clear of us. "

So a three-pounder soon poked her nose through the stern, and, whenthe proud Britisher again came up for one of her leisurely discharges, she received a dose of grape which made her captain haul offprecipitously. Nor did he venture near again for another shot at thesaucy fugitive. 

When daylight came, sixteen guns were counted upon the British brig. 

"By George!" shouted Barney. "See those officers in the rigging. She'sa gun-ship--a regular ship-of-war. "

But Captain Robinson laughed. 

"That's an old game, " said he. "They're tryin' to fool us into thebelief that she's a real gun-boat, so's we'll surrender immediately. But see--she's drawin' near again--and seems as if she's about toboard us from the looks of her crew. "

Barney gazed intently at the stranger. 

"You're right, " said he. "Load the three-pounder with grape-shot. "

"And here's a crow-bar as'll top it off nice, " put in a sailor. 

Captain Robinson laughed. 

"Yes, spike her in, too. She'll plunk a hole clear through th'rascal, " he cried. "I'll touch her off myself. "

The British gun-boat drew nearer and nearer. Just as she was withinstriking distance--about ten yards--the three-pounder was touched offwith a deaf'ning roar. 

"So accurate was the aim, " says an old historian, "that the Britishwere completely baffled in their attempt; their foresails and alltheir weather foreshrouds being cut away. "

"Give her a broadside!" called out Captain Robinson, as the brigsheered off in order to support its foremast, which tottered with itsown weight; the rigging which supported it, being half cut away. And, as he spoke--the crew let drive a shower of balls and grape-shot. Itwas the last volley. 

The _Pomona_ kept upon her course, while the white sails of theattacker grew fainter and fainter upon the horizon. 

"I saw her name as she ranged in close to us, " said Joshua Barney, slapping Captain Robinson on the back. "And it was the _Rosebud_. "

"I reckon that _Rosebud_ has no thorns left, " chuckled CaptainRobinson, and he was still chuckling when the little _Pomona_ safelysailed into the harbor of Bordeaux in France. The voyage had been asuccess. 

Here a store of guns, powder and shot was purchased, and, havingshipped a cargo of brandy, and raised the crew to seventy men, thestaunch, little vessel set sail for America. 

Not three days from the coast of France the cry of "Sail ho!" startledall on board, and, upon the starboard quarter--loomed a Britishprivateer. Upon nearer view she was seen to have sixteen guns andseventy men. 

"All hands for a fight!" cried Robinson. "Don't let th' fellowescape. "

Now was a hard battle. It lasted for full two hours, and--in theend--the Britisher struck, with twelve killed and a number wounded, while the American loss was but one killed and two wounded. The_Pomona_ kept upon her course, jubilantly. 

But the saucy ship was not to have all smooth sailing. She was sooncaptured--by whom it is not known--and stout "Josh" Barney became aprisoner of war. In December, 1780, with about seventy Americanofficers, he was placed on board the _Yarmouth_--a sixty-four-gunbrig--and was shipped to England. 

Now listen to the treatment given him according to a contemporaneoushistorian. Did you ever hear of anything more atrocious?Peace--indeed--had more horrors than war in the year 1780. 

"From the time these Americans stepped aboard the _Yarmouth_ theircaptors gave it to be understood, by hints and innuendos, that theywere being taken to England 'to be hanged as rebels;' and, indeed thetreatment they received aboard the _Yarmouth_ on the passage over, ledthem to believe that the British officers intended to cheat thegallows of their prey, by causing the prisoners to die before theyreached port. 

"On coming aboard the ship-of-the-line, these officers were stowedaway in the lower hold, next to the keel, under five decks, and manyfeet below the water-line. Here, in a twelve-by-twenty-foot room, withupcurving floor, and only three feet high, the seventy-one men werekept for fifty-three days, like so much merchandise--without light orgood air--unable to stand upright, with no means to get away. 

"Their food was of the poorest quality, and was supplied in suchinsufficient quantities, that, whenever one of the prisoners died, thesurvivors concealed the fact, in order that the dead man's allowancemight be added to theirs. The water which they were served to drinkwas atrocious. 

"From the time the _Yarmouth_ left New York till she reached Plymouth, in a most tempestuous winter passage, these men were kept in thisloathsome dungeon. Eleven died in delirium; their wild ravings andpiercing shrieks appalling their comrades, and giving them a foretasteof what they, themselves, might expect. Not even a surgeon waspermitted to visit them. 

"Arriving at Plymouth, the pale, emaciated men were ordered to come ondeck. Not one obeyed, for they were unable to stand upright. Consequently they were hoisted up, the ceremony being grimlysuggestive of the manner in which they had been treated, --likemerchandise. And what were they to do, now that they had been placedon deck?

"The light of the sun, which they had scarcely seen for fifty-threedays, fell upon their weak, dilated pupils with blinding force; theirlimbs were unable to uphold them, their frames wasted by disease andwant. Seeking for support, they fell in a helpless mass, one upon theother, waiting and almost hoping for the blow that was to fall uponthem next. Captain Silas Talbot was one of these unfortunateprisoners. 

"To send them ashore in this condition was 'impracticable, ' so theBritish officers said, and we readily discover that this'impracticable' served the purpose of diverting the indignation of theland's folk, which sure would be aroused, if they knew that suchbrutality had been practiced under the cross of St. George (the crossupon the British flag). 

"Waiting, then, until the captives could, at least, endure the lightof day, and could walk without leaning on one another, or clutching atevery object for support, the officers had them removed to the oldMill Prison. "

This story has been denied, for the reason that the log of the_Yarmouth_ shows that she was forty-four and not fifty-three days atsea, and the captain writes:

"We had the prisoners 'watched' (divided into port and starboardwatch) and set them to the pumps. I found it necessary so to employthem, the ship's company, from their weak and sickly state, beingunequal to that duty, and, on that account to order them wholeallowance of provisions. "

It would have been impossible for men to be in the condition which thefirst historian describes if they had to man the pumps. It would havebeen impossible for them to have done an hour's work. Therefore, I, myself, believe the second story. Don't you?

But to return to stout "Josh" Barney, now meditating thoughts ofescape in old Mill Prison. Bold and resourceful he was always, and hewas now determined to face the difficulties of an exit and the chancesof detection. "I must and can get away, " he said. 

The prisoners were accustomed to play leap-frog, and one day thecrafty "Josh" pretended that he had sprained his ankle. Constructingtwo crutches--out of pieces of boards--he limped around theprison-yard and completely deceived all but a few of his most intimatefriends. 

One day--it was May the eighteenth, 1781--he passed a sentry near theinner gate. The fellow's name was Sprokett and he had served in theBritish army in America, where he had received many kindnesses fromthe country people. For this reason his heart warmed to the stout, young "Josh, " who had often engaged him in conversation. 

Hopping to the gate upon his crutches, the youthful Americanwhispered, "Give me a British uniform and I will get away. Can you do it?"

Sprokett smiled. 

"Sure, " said he. 

"To-day?"

"Dinner. "

And this meant one o'clock, when the warders dined. 

"All right, " whispered "Josh, " smiling broadly, and he again hobbledaround the yard. 

After awhile the sentry motioned for him to come nearer. He didso--and as he approached--a large bundle was stealthily shoved intohis arms. He hastened to his cell and there put on the undress uniformof an officer of the British army. 

Drawing on his great-coat, he went into the yard and hobbled aboutupon his two sticks until the time drew near for the mid-day mess. Then he drew close to the gate. 

One o'clock tolled from the iron bell upon the prison rampart, and, asits deep-toned echoes sounded from its tower, several of Barney'sfriends engaged the half-dozen sentries in conversation. It was thetime for action. 

The astute "Josh" suddenly dropped his crutches. Then--walking acrossthe enclosure towards the gate, --he winked to the sentry. A companionwas at hand. With a spring he leaped upon his shoulders. Oneboost--and he was on top of the walk. Another spring, and he haddropped to the other side as softly as a cat. 

But the second gate and sentry had to be passed. 

Walking up to this red-coated individual he placed four guineas (about$20. 00) into his outstretched palm. The soldier smiled grimly, as thegreat-coat was tossed aside, and the shrewdest privateer in theAmerican Navy walked towards the opening through the outer wall, whichwas usually left ajar for the convenience of the prison officials. Another sentry stood upon duty at this point. 

Barney nodded. The sentry had been "squared" (told of the comingescape) and so he turned his back. Thus--with his heart beating like atrip-hammer--"Josh, " the nervy one--walked down the cobbled streetoutside of the "Old Mill. " He was free. 

Dodging into a lane, he soon met a friend who had been told of hisattempt, and who took him to the house of an old clergyman inPlymouth. In the morning, with two fellow-countrymen, who were also inhiding (for they had been captured as passengers in a merchantvessel), he secured a fishing-smack. "Josh" now covered his uniform. Putting on an old coat with a tarred rope tied around his waist, apair of torn trousers, and a tarpaulin hat, the disguised Jack-tar ranthe little vessel down the River Plym, just as day was dawning. Theforts and men-of-war were safely passed, and the little shallop tossedupon the gleaming wavelets of the English channel. 

We are told that his escape was not noticed for some time because "aslender youth who was capable of creeping through the window-bars atpleasure crawled into Barney's cell (in the Old Mill Prison) andanswered for him. " I doubt this, for--if you have ever seen the barsof a prison--it would take a Jack Spratt to get through them, and JackSpratts are not common. At any rate someone answered to the dailyroll-call for Joshua B. , so that it was full two weeks before theauthorities knew of his escape. Perhaps there was a ventriloquist inthe jail. 

The tiny boat in which the adventurous American hoped to reach thewelcome shores of France, bobbed up and down, as she ambled towardsthe low-lying coast, under a gentle southerly breeze. But there wastrouble in this self-same wind, for the white wings of a Britishprivateer grew nearer and nearer, and a hail soon came:

"What's your name, and where are you bound?"

Barney and his partners in distress did not answer at all. Theyscowled as a boat was lowered from the side of their pursuer, andquickly splashed towards them. In not many moments, a swearingsea-captain swung himself upon their deck. 

"Who are you, you lubbers?" said he. "Where' yer papers, and where'yer bound to?"

"I'm a British officer, " replied the astute Joshua, opening his coatand disclosing the uniform of the service. "I am bound for France uponofficial business. "

The Captain snickered. 

"An' with two others in er' launch? Aw go tell that to th' marines!"

"It's God's truth. I'm in a state secret. "

"Wall--be that as it may be--you must come aboard of my vessel andtell yer state secret to th' authorities in England. Meanwhile, I'llput a skipper of my own aboard yer vessel and we'll traveltogether--bein' friends. "

Barney swore beneath his breath. 

Thus the two boats beat towards the coast of Merrie England incompany, and upon the day following, came to anchor in a small harbor, six miles from Plymouth. The captain of the privateer went ashore inorder to report to Admiral Digby at Plymouth, while most of the crewalso hastened to the beach in order to avoid the chance of beingseized by the press-gang, which harried incoming vessels for recruitsfor His Majesty's service. 

"Can't I go, too?" asked the cautious "Josh. "

"No, you must remain on board until we come for you, " said thecaptain, as he jumped into his boat en route for the shore. "MisterOfficer, I want to search your record. " Then he laughed brutishly. 

But Barney's thinking cap was working like a mill race. There was ajolly-boat tied to the stern of the privateer, and, when all were safeashore, he gently slipped into this, purposely skinning his leg as hedid so. Then he sculled to the beach; where a group of idlers stoodlooking out to sea. 

"Here, " he cried, as he neared them. "Help me haul up this boat, willyer? She's awful heavy. "

A custom's officer was among these loiterers and he was inquisitive. 

"Who are you?" said he. "What regiment and where stationed, pray?"

"That I cannot answer, my friend, " calmly replied the acute "Josh, "pointing to the blood as it trickled through his stocking. "I am badlyinjured, you see, and must go away in order to get my leg tied up. Prithee, kind sir, can you tell me where the crew from my vessel havegone to?"

"They are at the Red Lion at the end of the village, " replied theofficial of the law. "You are, indeed, badly hurt. "

"Wall, I reckon, " replied the American, and, stumbling up the beach, he was soon headed for the end of the little village. 

But things were not to go too well with him. He found that he wasobliged to pass the Red Lion, and he had almost succeeded in doing sounmolested, when one of the sailors who was loitering outside, criedout after him, "Ho, friend! I would speak with you!"

"Josh" had to stop although sorely tempted to run for it. 

"I've got some idee of shippin' in th' Navy, " said the fellow, as heapproached. "Now, friend, you can tell me somethin' of th' pay an'service, as you're an officer of th' army. "

Barney's eyes shone with pleasure, as he saw that his disguise haddeceived the fellow. 

"Walk along with me towards Plymouth, " said he, "and I'll explaineverything to you. I have business there which will not wait and Imust get on to it. "

So they jogged along together, talking vigorously about the Navy, but, in the course of half an hour the jack-tar seemed to think better ofhis plan for entering "a service noted for its cruelty to seamen, " andturned back, saying, "Thank'ee my fine friend. Thank'ee. I'll stick to privateerin'. It'seasier an' there's less cat-o'-nine-tails to it. "

As soon as his burly form disappeared down the winding road, Barneybegan to grow anxious about his safety. Perhaps a guard would be sentafter him? Perhaps--even now--men had discovered his absence and werehurrying to intercept him? So--with these thoughts upon his mind--hejumped over a stiff hedge into the grounds of Lord Mount-Edgecumbe. 

"Egad! it's touch and go with me, " said he, as he walked down one ofthe gravelled paths. "I'm in for it now for here comes the gardener. "

Sure enough, towards him ambled a middle-aged fellow, smiling as hepushed along a wheel-barrow filled with bulbs. 

Joshua walked up to him, extending his right hand. 

"My friend, " said he, "I am an officer escaping from some seamen whowish my life because of a duel in which I recently engaged over thehand of a fair lady. Here is a guinea. It is all that I possess. And--if you could but pilot me to the waterside and will not tell ofmy whereabouts--I will bless you to my dying day. "

The good-humored man-of-the-soil smiled benignly. 

"Prithee, but follow me, " said he, "and we'll soon see that you passby the way of the water gate. Your money is most welcome, sir, for mywife is just now ill and doctors must be paid, sir. That you knowright well. "

Barney breathed easier as they walked towards the sea; for out of thecorner of his eye he saw a guard--sent to capture him--tramping alongthe other side of the hedge over which he had leaped. 

"Good-bye and good luck!" cried the kind-hearted servant as he closedthe private gate which led to the waterside. And, with a wave of thehand, the fleeing American was soon hastening to the winding river, over which he must cross in order to get on to Plymouth. 

Luck was still with him. A butcher who was ferrying some beeves bywater, took him in his boat, and, as night fell, the keen-wittedprivateersman crept through the back door of the old clergyman's houseat Plymouth--from which he had started. For the time being, he wassafe. 

Strange to relate, the two friends of the fishing-smack adventure herejoined him once more, for they, also, had run away from the crew ofthe privateer, and--as they sat around the supper-table--thetown-crier went by the house, bawling in harsh and discordant tones:

"Five guineas reward for the capture of Joshua Barney; a rebeldeserter from Mill Prison! Five guineas reward for this deserter! Fiveguineas! Five guineas!"

But Barney stuffed his napkin into his mouth in order to stop hislaughter. 

Three days later a clean-shaven, bright-cheeked, young dandy steppedinto a post chaise, at midnight, and drove off to Exeter. At Plymouthgate the conveyance was stopped; a lantern was thrust into the blackinterior; and the keen eyes of the guard scanned the visages of thosewithin:

"He's not here, " growled the watchman, lowering the light. "Drive on!"

Thus Joshua Barney rolled on to home and freedom, while thestout-bodied soldier little guessed that the artful privateersman hadslipped through his fingers like water through a sieve. 

Two months later--in the autumn of 1781--Joshua Barney: fighter, privateer, liar and fugitive, walked down the quiet streets ofBeverly, Massachusetts, and a little fish-monger's son whispered tohis companions, "Say, Boys! That feller is a Jim Dandy. He's been through more'n we'llever see. Say! He's a regular Scorcher!"

 * * * * *

Many months later--when the Revolutionary War had ended--the good ship_General Washington_ lay in Plymouth Harbor on the south coast ofEngland. Her commander--Captain Joshua Barney--gazed contentedly atthe Stars and Stripes as they flew jauntily from the mizzen-mast, andthen walked to the rail, as a group of British officers came over theside. But there was one among these guests who was not an officer. Hewas bent, old, weather-beaten; and his dress showed him to be a tillerand worker of the soil. It was the aged and faithful gardener of LordMount-Edgecumbe. 

"You remember me?" cried the genial American, grasping the honestservant by the hand. 

The gardener's eyes were alight with pleasure. 

"You are the feller who jumped over the hedge--many years ago--whenthe sea-dogs were hot upon your trail. "

Joshua Barney chuckled. 

"The same, " said he. "And here is a purse of gold to reward my kindand worthy helpmeet. "

So saying, he placed a heavy, chamois bag of glittering eagles intothe trembling hands of the ancient retainer. 

THE DERELICT

 Unmoored, unmanned, unheeded on the deep-- Tossed by the restless billow and the breeze, It drifts o'er sultry leagues of tropic seas. Where long Pacific surges swell and sweep, When pale-faced stars their silent watches keep, From their far rhythmic spheres, the Pleiades, In calm beatitude and tranquil ease, Smile sweetly down upon its cradled sleep. Erewhile, with anchor housed and sails unfurled, We saw the stout ship breast the open main, To round the stormy Cape, and span the World, In search of ventures which betoken gain. To-day, somewhere, on some far sea we know Her battered hulk is heaving to and fro. 

ROBERT SURCOUF

THE "SEA HOUND" FROM ST. MALO

(1773-1827)

 "If you would be known never to have done anything, never do it. "--EMERSON. 

ROBERT SURCOUF

THE "SEA HOUND" FROM ST. MALO

(1773-1827)

 _Parlez-vous Français?_ Yes, Monsieur, I can speak like a native, --sure. Then, take off your cap to the lilies of France, Throw it up high, and hasten the dance. For "Bobbie" Surcouf has just come to town, _Tenez!_ He's worthy of wearing a crown. 

It was a sweltering, hot day in July and the good ship _Aurora_ swunglazily in the torpid waters of the Indian Ocean. Her decks fairlysizzled in the sun, and her sails flopped like huge planks of wood. She was becalmed on a sheet of molten brass. 

"I can't stand this any longer, " said a young fellow with black hairand swarthy skin. "I'm going overboard. "

From his voice it was easy to see he was a Frenchman. 

Hastily stripping himself, he went to the gangway, and standing uponthe steps, took a header into the oily brine. He did not come up. 

"Sacre nom de Dieu!" cried a sailor. "Young Surcouf be no risen. Ah!He has been down ze long time. Ah! Let us lower ze boat and findheem. "

"Voilà! Voilà!" cried another. "He ees drowned!"

_Plunkety, plunk, splash!_ went a boat over the side, and in a momentmore, a half dozen sailors were eagerly looking into the deep, bluewash of the ocean. 

"He no there. I will dive for heem, " cried out the fellow who hadfirst spoken, and, leaping from the boat, he disappeared from view. 

In a few moments he re-appeared, drawing the body of the first diverwith him. It was apparently helpless. The prostrate sailor was liftedto the deck; rubbed, worked over, scrubbed, --but no signs of life werethere. 

Meanwhile, a Portuguese Lieutenant, who was pacing the poop, appearedto be much pleased at what took place. 

"The fellow's dead! The beggar's done for, --sure. Overboard with therascal! To the waves with the dead 'un!"

"Give us a few more moments, " cried the sailors. "He will come to!"

But the Lieutenant smiled satirically. 

"To the waves with the corpse! To the sharks with the man from St. Malo!" cried he. 

And all of this the senseless seaman heard--for--he was in acataleptic fit, where he could hear, but could not move. ThePortuguese Lieutenant and he were bitter enemies. 

"Oh, I tell you, Boys, the fellow's dead!" again cried the Portuguese. "Over with him!"

So saying, he seized the inert body with his hands; dragged it to theship's side; and started to lift it to the rail. 

Conscious of all that went on around him, the paralyzed Surcoufrealized that, unless he could make some sign, he had only a fewseconds to live. So, with a tremendous effort--he made a movement ofhis limbs. It was noticed. 

"Voilà! Voilà!" cried a French sailor. "He ees alife. No! No! Youcannot kill heem!"

Running forward, he grabbed the prostrate form of Robert Surcouf, pulled it back upon the deck, and--as the Portuguese Lieutenant wentoff cursing--he rubbed the cold hands of the half-senseless man. In amoment the supposed corpse had opened its eyes. 

"Ah!" he whispered. "I had a close call. A thousand thanks to all!"

In five more moments he could stand upon the deck, and--believe me--hedid not forget the Portuguese Lieutenant!

Robert Surcouf was born at St. Malo--just one hundred years after DuGuay-Trouin, to whom he was related. And like his famous relative hehad been intended for the Church, --but he was always fighting; wasinsubordinate, and could not be made to study. In fact, he was what isknown as a "holy terror. "

Finally good Mamma Surcouf sent him to the Seminary of St. Dinan, saying:

"Now, Robert, be a good boy and study hard thy lessons!"

And Robert said, "Oui, Madame!" But he would not work. 

One day the master in arithmetic did not like the method in whichyoung "Bobbie" answered him, and raising a cane, he ran towards theyouthful scholar. But Robert had learned a kind of "Jiu-Jitsu"practiced by the youths of France, and he tackled his irate masterlike an end-rush upon the foot-ball team, when he dives for a runner. Both fell to the ground with a thud. And all the other boys yelled"Fine!" in unison. 

Now was a fierce battle, but weight told, and "Bobbie" was soonunderneath, with his teeth in the leg of his tutor. They scratched androlled until "Bobbie" freed himself, and, running to the window, jumped outside--for he was on the ground floor--scaled the gardenfence, and made off. Home was twenty miles away. 

"I must get there, somehow, " said young "Bobbie. " "I can never goback. I will be spanked so that I cannot seat myself. "

So little "Bob" trudged onward in the snow, for it was winter. It grewdark. It was bitterly cold, and he had no hat. At length--worn outwith cold and hunger--he sank senseless to the roadside. 

Luck pursues those destined for greatness. 

Some fish-merchants happened that way, and, seeing the poor, helpless, little boy, they picked him up; placed him upon a tiny dog-cart; andcarried him to St. Malo, where he had a severe attack of pneumonia. But his good mother nursed him through, saying:

"Ta donc! He will never be a scholar. Ta donc! Young Robbie must go tosea!"

So when "Bobbie" was well he was shipped aboard the brig _Heron_, bound for Cadiz, Spain--and he was only just thirteen. But he threw uphis cap crying, "This is just what I've always wanted. Hurrah for the salty brine!"

At about twenty years of age we find him upon the good ship _Aurora_from which his dive into the Indian Ocean came near being his lastsplash. And the Portuguese Lieutenant did not forget. 

Upon the next visit of the cruiser _Aurora_ to the coast of Africa anepidemic of malarial fever struck the crew. Among those who succumbedto the disease was the Portuguese Lieutenant. He was dangerously ill. 

The ship arrived at the island of Mauritius, and, Lieutenant RobertSurcouf was just going ashore, when he received a message which said:

"Come and see me. I am very ill. " It was from his enemy, --thePortuguese. 

Surcouf did not like the idea, but after thinking the matter over, hewent. But note this, --he had a pair of loaded pistols in his pocket. Dead men--you know--tell no tales. 

As he entered the sick man's cabin, a servant was there. ThePortuguese made a sign to him to retire. 

"I wish to speak to you with a sincere heart, " said he, turning hisface to young Surcouf. "Before I pass from this world I want torelieve my conscience, and ask your forgiveness for all the evil whichI have wished you during our voyages together. "

"I bear you no malice, " said Surcouf. "Let by-gones be by-gones. "

As he spoke a spasm seemed to contort the body of the dying man. Onearm stretched out towards a pillow nearby, and Robert had a sudden, but excellent thought. Stepping forward, he seized the hand of his oldenemy, lifted the pillow, and, then started back with an exclamationof astonishment. 

"Ye Gods!" cried he. "You would murder me!"

There, before him, were two cocked and loaded pistols. 

Leaping forward he grabbed the weapons, pointing one at the foreheadof the rascally sailor. 

"You miserable beast!" cried he. "I can now shoot you like a dog, orsquash you like an insect; but I despise you too much. I will leaveyou to die like a coward. "

"And, " says a historian, "this is what the wretched mandid, --blaspheming in despairing rage. "

In October, 1794, Lieutenant Surcouf saw his first big battle, for, the English being at war with the French, two British men-of-warhovered off the island of Mauritius, blockading the port of St. Thomas. They were the _Centurion_ of fifty-four guns, and the_Diomede_, also of fifty-four cannon, but with fewer tars. The Frenchhad four ships of war: the _Prudente_, forty guns; the _Cybele_, forty-four guns; the _Jean Bart_, twenty guns; and the _Courier_, fourteen guns. Surcouf was junior Lieutenant aboard the _Cybele_. 

It was a beautiful, clear day, as the French vessels ploughed out tobattle; their sails aquiver with the soft breeze; their pennonsfluttering; guns flashing; and eager sailors crowding to the railswith cutlasses newly sharpened and pistols in their sashes. 

_Boom!_

The first gun spoke. The first shell spun across the bow of theBritish bull-dog _Diomede_, and the battle was on. 

Have you ever seen a school of pollock chasing a school of smallerfry? Have you ever seen them jump and splash, and thud upon thesurface of the water?

Well--that is the way that the shells looked and sounded--as theyplumped and slushed into the surface of the southern sea; and everynow and then there was a _punk_, and a _crash_, and a _chug_, as abig, iron ball bit into the side of a man-of-war. 

Around and around sailed the sparring assailants, each looking for achance to board. _Crash! Roar! Crash!_ growled the broadsides. Shrillscreams sounded from the wounded; the harsh voices of the officersechoed above the din of the conflict; and, the whining bugle squealedominously between the roaring crush of grape and chain-shot. 

But the French got nearer and nearer. Great gaps showed in thebulwarks of the _Diomede_; one mast was tottering. Beaten andoutnumbered she stood out to sea, her sailors crowding into therigging like monkeys, and spreading every stitch of white canvas. 

"She runs! Egad, she runs!" cried the Commander of the other Britishvessel. "Faith, I cannot stand off four Frenchmen alone. I must afterher to save my scalp. "

So--putting his helm hard over--he threw his vessel before the wind, and she spun off, pursued by bouncing shells and shrieking grapnel. 

"Voilà!" cried the French. "Ze great battaile, eet belongs to us!" Butthere were many dead and wounded upon the decks of the proud Frenchwarships. 

Soon after this smart, little affair the soldiers and sailors who hadbeen in this fight were discharged, --and--looking about foremployment, young Robert took the first position that presenteditself: the command of the brig _Creole_, --engaged in the slave trade. He made several successful voyages, but orders were issued to--

 "Arrest the Slave Hunter and all his crew, When they arrive at the Mauritius. "

One of those little birds which sometimes carry needed information, both on sea and land, whispered this ill news to the gallant, youngsea-dog. So he steered for the isle of Bourbon, and there landed hishuman freight in a small bay. At daybreak he lay at anchor in theHarbor of St. Paul in that self-same island. 

About eight in the morning a boat was seen approaching, and to thehail, --"Who goes there?" came the reply--

"Public Health Committee from St. Denis. We wish to come on board andto inspect your ship. "

Surcouf was much annoyed. 

"You can climb aboard, " said he, stifling an exclamation of disgust. "I am at your service. "

In a few moments the commissioners were upon the deck, and, in a fewmoments more, they had discovered that the ship was a slaver. 

Turning to the youthful captain, one of the committee said:

"You, sir, are engaged in illegal traffic. You must suffer for this, and must come with us at once to the city to answer an indictmentdrawn up against you. "

Surcouf smiled benignly. 

"I am at your service, " said he, with a polite bow. "But do not go--Ipray thee--until you have given me the great pleasure of partaking ofthe breakfast which my cook has hastily prepared. "

The Committee-men smiled. 

"You are very kind, " said one. "We accept with pleasure. "

The hasty efforts of the cook proved to be most attractive. And, asthe Commissioners smacked their lips over the good Madeira wine, themate of the _Creole_ dismissed the boat which had brought the stolidCommissioners to the side. 

"The tender of our brig will take your people ashore, " said he to thecoxswain. 

No sooner had this tender neared the shore, than the cable of the_Creole_ was slipped; she left her anchorage; and quickly drew out tosea in a fresh sou'westerly breeze. 

The unaccustomed rallying soon warned the Commissioners that thevessel was no longer at anchor, and, rushing to the deck, theysaw--with dismay--that a full half mile of foam-flecked ocean laybetween them and the island. 

"Ye Gods!" cried one, turning to Surcouf. "What mean you by this, sir?"

The crafty Captain was smiling like the Cheshire cat. 

"You are now in my power, " said he--very slowly and deliberately. "Iam going to take you to the coast of Africa among your friends--thenegroes. You seem to prefer them to the whites, so why not, pray?Meanwhile, --my kind sirs, --come below and take my orders. "

The Commissioners were flabbergasted. 

"Pirate!" cried one. 

"Thief!" cried another. 

"Scamp!" shouted the third. 

But they went below, --mumbling many an imprecation upon the head ofthe crafty Robert Surcouf. 

That night the wind freshened, the waves rose, and the good ship_Creole_ pitched and tossed upon them, like a leaf. The Committee-menwere very ill, for they were landsmen, and Surcouf's smile expanded. 

"Take us ashore! Take us ashore!" cried one. "We _must_ get uponland. "

Surcouf even laughed. Everything was as he wished. 

"I will land you upon one condition only, " said he. "Destroy theindictment against me and my ship. Write a document to the effect thatyou have found no traces of slaves upon my staunch craft. Say that myboat was driven from her anchor by a tidal wave--and you can put yourfeet upon solid ground. "

The three Commissioners scowled, but he had them. Besides they weresea-sick. 

In an hour's time, the desired paper had been drawn up. The _Creole_was headed for the Mauritius, --and, in eight days, the sad but wiserCommissioners were brooding over the smartness of Robert Surcouf whenseated in their own snug little homes. "He is a rascal, " said one. "He's a slick and wily cur. "

So much reputation came to the young mariner--at this exploit--that hewas soon offered the command of the _Emilie_: a privateer of onehundred and eighty tons and four guns. He accepted with glee, but whenabout to go to sea, the Governor refused him Letters of Marque. 

"What shall I do?" asked the crest-fallen Robert, approaching theowners of the trim and able craft. 

"Sail for the Seychelles (Islands off the east coast of Africa) for acargo of turtles, " said they. "If you fail to find these; fill up withcorn, cotton and fruit. Fight shy of all English cruisers, and battleif you have to. "

Surcouf bowed. 

"I am not a regular privateer, " he answered. "For I have no Letters ofMarque. But I can defend myself if fired upon, and am an armed vesselin war-time. I may yet see some fighting. "

He was not to be disappointed. 

While at anchor at the Seychelles, two large and fat Englishmen-of-war appeared in the offing. Surcouf had to run for it. 

Steering in among the many little islets, which here abound, henavigated the dangerous channels and got safely off, his men crying, "Voilà! Here is a genius. We did well to ship with such a master!"

But the gallant Surcouf soon turned from privateer to pirate. 

South of the Bay of Bengal, a cyclone struck the _Emilie_ and she wassteered for Rangoon, where--

 "The flying fishes play, An' the dawn comes up like thunder, Outer China across the Bay. "

And here a British vessel steered for her: white-winged, saucy, vindictive-looking. 

She came on valiantly, and, when within a hundred yards, pumped a shotacross the bow of the drowsing _Emilie_. It meant "Show your colors. "

Hoisting the red, white and blue of France, Surcouf replied with threescorching shots. One struck the Britisher amid-ships, and pumped ahole in her black boarding. 

Like a timid girl, the Englishman veered off, hoisted her topsail, andtried to get away. She saw that she had caught a tartar. 

The blood was up of the "Man from St. Malo. " "I consider the shotacross my bows as an attack, " said he, and he slapped on every stitchof canvas, so that the _Emilie_ was soon abreast of the Britisher. _Boom!_ A broadside roared into her and she struck her colors. BoldRobert Surcouf had passed the Rubicon, --he had seen the English flaglowered to him, for the first time; and his heart swelled withpatriotic pride, in spite of the fact that this was an act of piracy, for which he could be hanged to the yard-arm. 

"On! On!" cried Surcouf. "More captures! More prizes!"

Three days later three vessels carrying rice fell into his hands, --oneof which, --a pilot-brig--was appropriated in place of the _Emilie_, which had a foul, barnacled bottom and had lost her speed. The_Diana_, another rice-carrier--was also captured--and Robert Surcoufheaded for the Mauritius: pleased and happy. 

A few days later, as the vessels pottered along off the river Hooghly, the cry came:

"A large sail standing into Balasore Roads!"

In a moment Surcouf had clapped his glass to his keen and searchingeye. 

"An East Indiaman, " said he. "And rich, I'll warrant. Ready about andmake after her. She's too strong for us, --that I see--but we mayoutwit her. "

The vessel, in fact, was the _Triton_, with six-and-twenty guns and astrong crew. Surcouf had but nineteen men aboard, including thesurgeon and himself, and a few Lascars, --natives. The odds wereheavily against him, but his nerve was as adamant. 

"My own boat has been a pilot-brig. Up with the pilot flag!" he cried. 

As the little piece of bunting fluttered in the breeze, the _Triton_hove to, and waited for him, as unsuspecting as could be. Surcoufchuckled. 

Nearer and nearer came his own vessel to the lolling Indiaman, and, asshe rolled within hailing distance, the bold French sea-dog saw"_beaucoup de monde_"--a great crowd of people--upon the deck of theEnglishman. 

"My lads!" cried he, turning to his crew. "This _Triton_ is verystrong. We are only nineteen. Shall we try to take her by surprise andthus acquire both gain and glory? Or, do you prefer to rot in abeastly English prison-ship?"

"Death or victory!" cried the Frenchmen. 

Surcouf smiled. 

"This ship shall either be our tomb, or the cradle of our glory, " saidhe. "It is well!"

The crew and passengers of the _Triton_ saw only a pilot-brigapproaching, as these did habitually (to within twenty or thirty feet)in order to transfer the pilot. Suddenly a few uttered exclamations ofsurprise and dismay. The French colors rose to the mast of thesorrowful-looking pilot-boat, and with a flash and a roar, a heavydose of canister and grape ploughed into the unsuspecting persons uponthe deck of the Indiaman. Many sought shelter from the hail of iron. 

A moment more, and the brig was alongside. A crunching: a splitting oftimber as the privateer struck and ground into the bulwarks of the_Triton_, and, with a wild yell--Surcouf leaped upon the deck of hisadversary--followed by his eighteen men, with cutlass, dirks andpistols. 

There was but little resistance. The Captain of the _Triton_ seized asword and made a vain attempt to stem the onslaught of the boarders, but he was immediately cut down. The rest were driven below, and thehatches clapped tight above them. In five minutes the affair was over, with five killed and six wounded upon the side of the English: onekilled and one wounded among the French. Surcouf had made a masterstroke. The _Triton_ was his own. 

The many prisoners were placed on board the _Diana_ and allowed tomake their way to Calcutta, but the _Triton_ was triumphantly steeredto the Mauritius, where Surcouf received a tremendous ovation. 

"Hurrah for Robert Surcouf: the sea-hound from St. Malo!" shrieked thetownsfolk. 

"Your captures are all condemned, " said the Governor of the island, afew days after his triumphant arrival. "For you sailed and fought notunder a Letter of Marque, so you are a pirate and not a privateer. Those who go a-pirating must pay the piper. Your prizes belong to theGovernment of France, and its representative. I hereby seize them. "

Surcouf was nonplussed. 

"We will take this matter to France, itself, " cried he. "And we shallsee whether or no all my exertions shall go for nought. "

So the case was referred to the French courts, where Robert appearedin person to plead his cause. And the verdict was:

"The captures of Captain Robert Surcouf of St. Malo are all declared'good prize' and belong to him and the owners of his vessel. "

So the wild man from St. Malo was very happy, and he and his ownerspocketed a good, round sum of money. But he really was a pirate andnot a privateer. _Tenez!_ He had the money, at any rate, so why shouldhe care?

The remaining days of Robert's life were full of battle, and, just alittle love, for he returned to his native town during the progress ofthe law-suit--in order to see his family and his friends, and therebecame engaged to Mlle. Marie Blaize, who was as good as she waspretty. But the sea sang a song which ran:

 "For men must work and women must weep, The home of a hero is on the deep. "

which the stout sea-dog could not resist. So he left the charmingdemoiselle without being married, and 'tis said that she weptbitterly. 

Now came his greatest exploit. 

On October 7th, 1800, the hardy mariner--in command of the _Confiance_;a new vessel with one hundred and thirty souls aboard--was cruisingoff the Indian coast. He had a Letter of Marque this time, so allwould go well with him if he took a prize. The opportunity soon came. A sail was sighted early that day, and Surcouf scanned her carefullythrough his glass. 

[Illustration: "SURCOUF SCANNED HER CAREFULLY THROUGH HIS GLASS. "]

"She's a rich prize, " said he. "An Indiaman. All hands on deck. Make sail! Drinks all round for the men! Clear for action!"

He spoke this to himself, for he was aloft, and, climbing to the deck, ordered everybody aft to listen to a speech. When they had collectedthere, he said, with feeling:

"I suppose each one of you is more than equal to one Englishman? Verygood--be armed and ready for boarding--and, as it is going to be hotwork, I'll give you one hour for pillage. You can fight, and, behindme, you should be invincible! Strike, and strike hard; and you will berich. "

The _Kent_ had four hundred and thirty-seven souls aboard, says an oldchronicler, for she had picked up a great part of the crew of the_Queen_: an East Indiaman which had been destroyed off the coast ofBrazil. Her Captain's name was Rivington and he was a fellow of heroiccourage. 

As the _Confiance_ drew near, the crew of the Englishman gave her afair broadside and pumped gun after gun into her hull. But theFrenchman held her fire, and bore in close, in order to grapple. Hoarse shouts sounded above the roar of the guns and the splitting oftimber, as the two war-dogs closed for action. The crew of the _Kent_were poorly armed and undisciplined: they had never fought together. With Surcouf it was far different. His sailors were veterans--they hadboarded many a merchantman and privateer before--and, they were wellused to this gallant pastime. Besides, each had a boarding-axe, acutlass, --pistol and a dagger--to say nothing of a blunderbuss loadedwith six bullets, pikes fifteen feet long, and enormous clubs--all ofthis with "drinks all round" and the promise of pillage. No wonderthey could fight!

With a wild, ear-splitting whoop the wild men of the French privateerfinally leaped over the rail--upon the deck of the Englishman--andthere was fierce struggling for possession of her. At the head of hismen, Rivington fought like a true Briton, --cutlass in hand, teethclinched, eyes to the front. He was magnificent. 

But what could one man do against many?

Back, back, the French forced the valiant lion, while his crew fellall about in tiers, and, at length, they drove him to the poop. He wasbleeding from many a wound. He was fast sinking. 

"Don't give up the ship!" he cried, casting his eye aloft at the redensign of his country. 

Then he fell upon his face, and the maddened followers of Surcoufswept over the decking like followers of Attila, the terrible Hun. 

"Spare the women!" shouted the French Captain above the din--and roarof battle. "Pillage; but spare the women!"

It was well that he had spoken, for his cut-throats were wild with theheat of battle. In twenty minutes the _Kent_ was helpless; her crewwere prisoners; and the saucy pennon of France fluttered where oncehad waved the proud ensign of Great Britain. 

Surcouf was happy. Landing the English prisoners in an Arab vessel, hearrived at the Mauritius with his prize in November, and soon took hisdoughty _Confiance_ to the low shores of France, catching aPortuguese merchant en route, and anchoring at La Rochelle, on April13th, 1801. 

Rich, famous, respected; he now married the good Mlle. Marie Blaize, and became the owner of privateers and a respected citizen of theFatherland. Fortune had favored this brave fellow. 

As a prosperous ship-owner and ship-builder of his nativevillage--"the Sea-Hound of St. Malo"--closed his adventurous life inthe year 1827. And when he quietly passed away, the good housewivesused to mutter:

"Look you! Here was a man who fought the English as well as theythemselves could fight. He was a true son of William the Conqueror. Look you! This was a King of the Ocean!"

And the gulls wheeled over the grave of the doughty sea-warrior, shrieking, "He-did-it! He-did-it! He-did-it!"

THE CRY FROM THE SHORE

 Come down, ye greyhound mariners, Unto the wasting shore! The morning winds are up, --the Gods Bid me to dream no more. Come, tell me whither I must sail, What peril there may be, Before I take my life in hand And venture out to sea!

 _We may not tell thee where to sail, _ _Nor what the dangers are;_ _Each sailor soundeth for himself, _ _Each hath a separate star;_ _Each sailor soundeth for himself, _ _And on the awful sea, _ _What we have learned is ours alone;_ _We may not tell it thee. _

 Come back, O ghostly mariners, Ye who have gone before! I dread the dark, tempestuous tides; I dread the farthest shore. Tell me the secret of the waves; Say what my fate shall be, -- Quick! for the mighty winds are up, And will not wait for me. 

 _Hail and farewell, O voyager!_ _Thyself must read the waves;_ _What we have learned of sun and storm_ _Lies with us in our graves;_ _What we have learned of sun and storm_ _Is ours alone to know. _ _The winds are blowing out to sea, _ _Take up thy life and go!_

LAFITTE

PRIVATEER, PIRATE, AND TERROR OF THE GULF OF MEXICO

(1780-1826)

 "For it's fourteen men on a dead man's chest, Yo, ho, ho, and a bottle of rum. "

 --STEVENSON. 

LAFITTE

PRIVATEER, PIRATE, AND TERROR OF THE GULF OF MEXICO

(1780-1826)

 "He was the mildest mannered man, That ever scuttled ship or cut a throat; With such true breeding of a gentleman, That you could ne'er discern his proper thought. Pity he loved an adventurous life's variety, He was _so_ great a loss to good society. "

 --_Old Ballad. _--1810. 

"Captain, we can't live much longer unless we have food. We've gotenough to last us for two weeks' time, and then--if we do not getfresh provisions--we'll have to eat the sails. "

The fellow who spoke was a rough-looking sea-dog, with a yellowface--parched and wrinkled by many years of exposure--a square figure;a red handkerchief tied about his black hair; a sash about his waistin which was stuck a brace of evil-barrelled pistols. He looked grimlyat the big-boned man before him. 

"Yes. You are right, as usual, Gascon. We've got to strike a foreignsail before the week is out, and capture her. And I, Lafitte, mustturn from privateer to pirate. May my good mother at St. Malo havemercy on my soul. "

And, so saying, he turned to pace restlessly upon the sloping deck ofthe two-hundred-ton barque which boiled along under a spread ofbellying canvas, and was guided by the keen eye of this youthfulmariner. He came from the same little town in France which shelteredthe good mother of Du Guay-Trouin, the great French "blue. " His namewas Jean Lafitte. 

This sea-rover had been born in 1781, and had taken to the ocean atthe age of thirteen, when most boys are going to boarding-school. After several voyages in Europe, and to the coast of Africa, he wasappointed mate of a French East Indiaman, bound to Madras in India. But things did not go any too well with the sturdy ship; a heavy galestruck her off the Cape of Good Hope; she sprung her mainmast, and--flopping along like a huge sea-turtle--staggered into the port ofSt. Thomas in the island of Mauritius, off the east coast of Africa. 

"Here, " said young Lafitte to his Captain, "is where I leave you, foryou are a bully, a braggart, and a knave. "

And, so saying, he cut for shore in the jolly-boat, but--if the truthmust be known--Lafitte and the Captain were too much alike to get ontogether. They both wished to "be boss. " Like magnets do not attract, but repel. 

Luck was with the young deserter. Several privateers were being fittedout at the safe port of St. Thomas and he was appointed Captain of oneof them. Letters of Marque were granted by the Governor of theMauritius. 

"Ah ha!" cried the youthful adventurer. "Now I can run things to suitmyself. And I'll grow rich. "

This he speedily succeeded in doing, for, in the course of his cruise, he robbed several vessels which came in his path, and, stopping at theSeychelles (Islands off the eastern coast of Africa), took on a loadof slaves for the port of St. Thomas. Thus he had descended--not onlyto piracy--but also to slave catching; the lowest depths to which aseaman could come down. 

When four days out from the curiously named islands, a cry went upfrom the watch, "Sail ho! Off the port bow! A British frigate, by much that's good, and she's after us with all speed!"

To which bold Lafitte answered, "Then, we must run for it!" But hehoisted every bit of canvas which he had about and headed for the Bayof Bengal. "And, " said he, "if she does not catch us and we get away, we'll take an English merchantman and burn her. " Then he laughedsatirically. 

The British frigate plodded along after the lighter vessel of Lafitte'suntil the Equator was reached, and then she disappeared, --disgruntled atnot being able to catch the saucy tartar. But the privateersman headedfor the blue Bay of Bengal; there fell in with an English armed schoonerwith a numerous crew; and--although he only had two guns and twenty-sixmen aboard his own vessel--he tackled the sailors from the chilly islelike a terrier shaking a rat. There was a stiff little fight upon theshimmering waves of the Indian Ocean. When night descended theBritisher had struck and nineteen blood-stained ruffians from theprivateer took possession of the battered hulk, singing a song whichran:

 "For it's fourteen men on a dead man's chest, Yo-Ho-Ho and a bottle of rum. "

Lafitte was now feeling better; his men had been fed; he had goodplunder; and he possessed two staunch, little craft. 

"Let's bear away for India, my Hearties, " cried he, "and we'll hitanother Englishman and take her. "

What he had said soon came to pass, for, when off the hazy, low-lyingcoast of Bengal, a rakish East Indiaman came lolling by, armed withtwenty-six twelve-pounders and manned with one hundred and fifty men. A bright boarding upon her stern-posts flaunted the truly Easternname: the _Pagoda_. 

The dull-witted Britishers had no suspicions of the weak, Puritan-looking, little two-'undred tonner of Lafitte's, as she glidedin close; luffed; and bobbed about, as a voice came:

"Sa-a-y! Want a pilot fer the Ganges?"

There was no reply for a while. Then a voice shrilled back, "Come up on th' port quarter. That's just what we've been lookin'for. "

The fat _Pagoda_ ploughed listlessly onward, as theunsuspicious-looking pilot plodded up on the port side; in fact, mostof the crew were dozing comfortably under awnings on the deck, when ashot rang out. Another and another followed, and, with a wild, ear-splitting whoop, the followers of Lafitte clambered across therail; dirks in their mouths; pistols in their right hands, andcutlasses in their left. 

Now was a short and bloodless fight. Taken completely by surprise, theEnglishmen threw up their hands and gave in only too willingly. Withsmiles of satisfaction upon their faces, the seamen of the bad manfrom St. Malo soon hauled two kegs of spirits upon the decks, and heldhigh revel upon the clean boarding of the rich and valuable prize. The_Pagoda_ was re-christened _The Pride of St. Malo_, and soon went offprivateering upon her own hook; while Lafitte headed back for St. Thomas: well-fed--even sleek with good living--and loaded down withthe treasure which he had taken. "Ah-ha!" cried the black-hairednavigator. "I am going to be King of the Indian waters. "

Now came the most bloody and successful of his battles upon the broadhighway of the gleaming, southern ocean. 

Taking command of the _La Confidence_ of twenty-six guns and twohundred and fifty men, whom he found at the port of St. Thomas, heagain headed for the coast of British India; keen in the expectationof striking a valuable prize. And his expectations were wellfulfilled. 

In October, 1807, the welcome cry of "Sail Ho!" sounded from theforward watch, when off the Sand Heads, and there upon the starboardbow was a spot of white, which proved to be a Queen's East Indiaman, with a crew of near four hundred. She carried forty guns. 

There were double the number of cannon, there were double the numberof men, but Lafitte cried out:

"I came out to fight and I'm going to do it, comrades! You see beforeyou a vessel which is stronger than our own, but, with courage andnerve, we can beat her. I will run our own ship close to the enemy. You must lie down behind the protecting sides of our vessel until wetouch the stranger. Then--when I give the signal to board--let eachman seize a cutlass, a dirk, and two pistols, and strike down all thatoppose him. We _must_ and _can_ win!"

These stirring words were greeted by a wild and hilarious cheer. 

Now, running upon the port tack, the _La Confidence_ bore down uponthe Britisher with the water boiling under her bows; while thestranger luffed, and prepared for action. Shrill cries sounded fromher huge carcass as her guns were loaded and trained upon theon-coming foe, while her masts began to swarm with sharpshooters eagerto pick off the ravenous sea-dogs from the Mauritius. 

Suddenly a terrific roar sounded above the rattle of ropes and creakof hawsers--and a broadside cut into the _La Confidence_ with keenaccuracy. 

"Lie flat upon the deck, " cried Lafitte, "and dodge the iron boys ifyou can see 'em. "

His men obeyed, and, as the missiles pounded into the broad sides oftheir ship, the steersman ran her afoul of the Queen's East Indiaman. When he did so, many sailors swarmed into the rigging, and from theyards and tops threw bombs and grenades into the forecastle of theenemy, so that death and terror made the Britishers abandon theportion of their vessel near the mizzen-mast. 

"Forty of the crew will now board, " cried Lafitte. "And let everymother's son strike home!"

With pistols in their hands and daggers held between their teeth, thewild sea-rovers rollicked across the gunwales like a swarm of rats. Dancing up the deck of the Britisher they beat back all who opposedthem, driving them below into the steerage. Shots rang out likespitting cats; dirks gleamed; and cutlasses did awful execution. Butthe Captain of the Indiaman was rallying his men about him on thepoop, and, with a wild cheer, these precipitated themselves upon thevictorious privateers. 

"Board! Board!" cried Lafitte, at this propitious moment, and, cutlassin hand, he leaped from his own vessel upon the deck of the EastIndiaman. His crew followed with a yelp of defiant hatred, and beatthe Captain's party back again upon the poop, where they stoodstolidly, cursing at the rough sea-riders from St. Thomas. 

But Lafitte was a general not to be outdone by such a show of force. He ordered a gun to be loaded with grape-shot; had it pointed towardsthe place where the crowd was assembled; and cried--

"If you don't give in now, I'll exterminate all of you at onedischarge of my piece. "

It was the last blow. Seeing that it was useless to continue theunequal struggle, the British Captain held up his long cutlass, towhich was bound a white handkerchief, and the great sea battle wasover. Lafitte and his terrible crew had captured a boat of double thesize of his own, and with twice his numbers. 

Says an old chronicler of the period: "This exploit, hithertounparalleled, resounded through India, and the name of Lafitte becamethe terror of English commerce in these latitudes. The British vesselsnow traversed the Indian Ocean under strong convoys, in order to beatoff this harpy of South Africa. "

"Egad, " said Lafitte about this time, "these fellows are too smart forme. I'll have to look for other pickings. I'm off for France. "

So he doubled the Cape of Good Hope, coasted up the Gulf of Guinea, and, in the Bight of Benin, took two valuable prizes loaded down withgold dust, ivory, and palm oil. With these he ran to St. Malo, wherethe people said:

"Tenez! Here is a brave fellow, but would you care to have hisreputation, Monsieur?" And they shook their heads, shrugged theirshoulders, and looked the other way when they saw him coming. 

The privateersman, slaver, and pirate was not going to be long withthem, however, for he soon fitted out a brigantine, mounted twentyguns on her, and with one hundred and fifty men, sailed forGuadaloupe, among the West Indies. He took several valuable prizes, but, during his absence upon a cruise, the island was captured by theBritish, so he started for a more congenial clime. He roved about forsome months, to settle at last at Barrataria, near New Orleans, Louisiana. He was rich; he had amassed great quantities of booty; andhe was a man of property. Lafitte, in fact, was a potentate. 

"Now, " said the privateer and pirate, "I will settle down and found acolony. "

But can a man of action keep still?

It is true that Lafitte was not as bold and audacious as before, forhe was now obliged to have dealings with merchants of the UnitedStates and the West Indies who frequently owed him large sums ofmoney, and the cautious transactions necessary to found and to conducta colony of pirates and smugglers in the very teeth of civilization, made the black-haired Frenchman cloak his real character under aveneer of supposed gentility. Hundreds of privateers, pirates, andsmugglers gathered around the banner of this robber of the high seas. 

But what is Barrataria?

Part of the coast of Louisiana is called by that name: that part lyingbetween Bastien Bay on the east, and the mouth of the wide river, orbayou of La Fourche, on the west. Not far from the rolling, sun-bakedAtlantic are the lakes of Barrataria, connecting with one another byseveral large bayous and a great number of branches. In one of theseis the Island of Barrataria, while this sweet-sounding name is alsogiven to a large basin which extends the entire length of the cypressswamps, from the Gulf of Mexico, to a point three miles above NewOrleans. The waters from this lake slowly empty into the Gulf by twopassages through the Bayou Barrataria, between which lies an islandcalled Grand Terre: six miles in length, and three in breadth, runningparallel with the coast. To the West of this is the great pass ofBarrataria, where is about nine to ten feet of water: enough to floatthe ordinary pirate or privateersman's vessel. Within this pass--abouttwo miles from the open sea--lies the only safe harbor upon the coast, and this is where the cut-throats, pirates, and smugglers gatheredunder Lafitte. They called themselves _Barratarians_, and they were agodless crew. 

At a place called Grand Terre, the privateers would often make publicsale of their cargoes and prizes by auction. And the most respectableinhabitants of the State were accustomed to journey there in order topurchase the goods which the _Barratarians_ had to offer. They wouldsmile, and say, "We are going to get some of the treasure of Captain Kidd. "

But the Government of the United States did not take so kindly to theidea of a privateer and pirate colony within its borders. And--withmalice aforethought--one Commodore Patterson was sent to dispersethese marauders at Barrataria, who, confident of their strength andfighting ability, defiantly flaunted their flag in the faces of theofficers of the Government. "We can lick the whole earth, " chuckledthe piratical followers of Lafitte. 

Patterson was a good fighter. On June the eleventh he departed fromNew Orleans with seventy members of the 44th regiment of infantry. Onthe sixteenth he made for the Island of Barrataria, with some sixgun-boats, a launch mounting one twelve pound carronade; the _SeaHorse_ (a tender carrying one six-pounder) and the schooner_Carolina_. 

"We must fight, Boys, " cried Lafitte to his ill-assorted mates. "Come, take to our schooners and show these officers that the followers ofLafitte can battle like Trojans. "

A cheer greeted these noble sentiments. 

"Lead on!" yelled his cut-throats. "Lead on and we'll sink these cockysoldiers as we've done to many an East Indiaman!"

So, about two o'clock in the afternoon, the privateers and piratesformed their vessels, ten in number (including their prizes) near theentrance of the harbor. 

_Crash!_

A shell from the forward gun of the leading gun-boat spun across thebows of Lafitte's flagship and buried itself in the gray water with adull sob. 

Up went a huge white flag upon the foremost mast-head of the kingpirate and these words could be plainly seen:

"Pardon for all Deserters. "

"Ah, ha, " chuckled Patterson. "The arch ruffian has heard that some ofmy men are ashore and this is the way he would hire them. "

_Crash!_

Another shell ricochetted across the still surface of the harbor andsunk itself in the side of a piratical brig. 

"Hello!" cried a Lieutenant, running up to the United StatesCommander. "They're giving up already. See! The beggars are hasteningashore in order to skip into the woods. "

"I'm afraid so, " answered the disappointed Commodore. "All my painsfor nothing. The fellows are getting away. "

Sure enough--afraid to remain and fight it out--the craven followersof Lafitte now turned their schooners to the shore--ran their bowsinto the sand, and, leaping overboard, made into the forest as fast astheir legs could carry them. Thus--without firing a shot--the cowardlypirates of Barrataria "took to the bush. "

"The enemy had mounted on their vessels, twenty pieces of cannon ofdifferent calibre, " wrote Patterson, after this tame affair. "And, asI have since learnt, they had from eight hundred to one thousand menof all nations and colors. When I perceived the pirates forming theirvessels into a line of battle I felt confident, from their fleet andvery advantageous position, and their number of men, that they wouldhave fought me. Their not doing so I regret; for had they, I shouldhave been enabled more effectually to destroy or make prisoners ofthem and their leaders; but it is a subject of great satisfaction tome, to have effected the object of my enterprise, without the loss ofa man. On the afternoon of the 23rd, I got under way with my wholesquadron, in all seventeen vessels, but during the night one escapedand the next day I arrived at New Orleans with my entire command. "

Thus ended the magnificent (?) attempt of the vainglorious Lafitte tostem the advance of the Government of the United States. In theparlance of the camp, "He was a fust-class quitter. "

But he did not show himself to be a "quitter" in the battle of NewOrleans. 

The English and Americans, in fact, were soon at each other's throatsin the ungentle game of war. At different times the British had soughtto attack the pirates of Barrataria, in the hope of taking theirprizes and armed vessels. On June 23rd, 1813, while two of Lafitte'sprivateers were lying to off of Cat Island, an English sloop-of-warcame to anchor at the entrance of the pass, and sent out two boats inthe endeavor to capture the rakish sea-robbers. But they were repulsedwith severe and galling loss. 

On the 2nd of September, 1814, an armed brig appeared on the coast, opposite the famous pass to the home of the rangers of the sea. Shefired a gun at a smuggler, about to enter, and forced her to poke hernose into a sand-bar; she then jibed over and came to anchor at theentrance to the shallows. 

"That vessel means business, sure, " said one of the pirates toLafitte. "She has spouted one gun, but now she's lyin' to. Better seewhat's up. "

"You're right, " answered the famous sea-rover. "We'll go off in a boatand look out for what's going to happen. "

So, starting from the shore, he was soon on his way to the brig, fromwhich a pinnace was lowered, in which could be seen two officers, oneof whom had a flag of truce. The two boats rapidly neared each other. 

"Where is Mr. Lafitte?" cried one of the Britishers, as the pinnaceneared the shore. "I would speak with the Laird of Barrataria. "

But Lafitte was not anxious to make himself known. 

"He's ashore, " said he. "But, if you have communications for him, these I can deliver. "

"Pray, give him these packages, my good man, " spoke the English tar, handing him a bundle of letters, tied up in tarpaulin. 

Lafitte smiled. 

"I would be delighted to do so, " he replied. "But, pray come ashoreand there I will return you your answer after I have seen the greatCaptain, who is camping about a league inland. "

The Britishers readily assented, and both rowed towards the sandybeach, where a great number of pirates of Barrataria had collected. 

As soon as the boats were in shallow water, Lafitte made himself knownto the English, saying:

"Do not let my men know upon what business you come, for it will goill with you. My followers know that war is now on between GreatBritain and the United States, and, if they hear you are makingovertures with me, they will wish to hang you. "

It was as he had said. When the Englishmen landed, a great cry went upamongst the privateers, pirates and smugglers:

"Hang the spies! Kill the dirty dogs! To the yard-arm with therascally Englishmen! Send the hounds to New Orleans and to jail!"

But Lafitte dissuaded the multitude from their intent and led theofficers in safety to his dwelling, where he opened the package, finding a proclamation addressed to the inhabitants of Louisiana, byCol. Edward Nichalls--British commander of the land forces in thisstate--requesting them to come under the sheltering arm of the BritishGovernment. There were also two letters to himself, asking him to joinand fight with the English. 

"If you will but battle with us, " said Captain Lockyer--one of theBritish officers--"we will give you command of a forty-four gunfrigate, and will make you a Post Captain. You will also receivethirty thousand dollars, --payable at Pensacola. "

Lafitte looked dubiously at him. 

"I will give answer in a few days, " he replied, with courtesy. 

"You are a Frenchman, " continued the British Captain. "You are not inthe service of the United States, nor likely to be. Come--man--give usa reply at once. "

Captain Lafitte was obdurate, for--strange as it may seem--he wishedto inform the officers of the State Government of this project of theEnglish. So he withdrew to his own hut. 

As he did this, the pirates seized the British officers, dragged themto a cabin, and thrust them inside. A guard was stationed at the door, while cries went up from every quarter:

"To New Orleans with the scoundrels! A yard-arm for the butchers! Arope's end for the scurvy tars!"

Lafitte was furious when he learned of this, and, after haranguing thecrowd, had the Britishers released. 

"If you treat men under a flag of truce as prisoners, " he cried, "youbreak one of the first rules of warfare. You will get the sametreatment if you, yourselves, are captured, and you will lose theopportunity of discovering what are the projects of the British uponLouisiana. "

His men saw the good sense of these words of advice, and actedaccordingly. 

Early the next morning the officers were escorted to their pinnacewith many apologies from Lafitte, who now wrote a letter to CaptainLockyer, which shows him to have been a man of considerablecultivation, and not a mere "rough and tumble" pirate--withouteducation or refinement. He said:

 "BARRATARIA, 4th Sept. , 1814. 

 "TO CAPTAIN LOCKYER, "SIR:--The confusion which prevailed in our camp yesterday and this morning, and of which you have a complete knowledge, has prevented me from answering in a precise manner to the object of your mission; nor even at this moment can I give you all the satisfaction that you desire. However, if you could grant me a fortnight, I would be entirely at your disposal at the end of that time. 

 "This delay is indispensable to enable me to put my affairs in order. You may communicate with me by sending a boat to the Eastern point of the pass, where I will be found. You have inspired me with more confidence than the Admiral--your superior officer--could have done, himself. With you alone I wish to deal, and from you, also, I will claim in due time, the reward of the services which I may render you. 

 "Your very respectful servant, "J. LAFITTE. "

His object in writing this letter--you see--was, by appearing toaccede to the proposals, to give time to communicate the affair to theofficers of the State Government of Louisiana and to receive from theminstructions how to act, under circumstances so critical and importantto his own country: that is, the country of his adoption. 

He, therefore, addressed the following epistle to the Governor ofLouisiana. Do you think that you, yourself, could write as well as didthis pirate?

 "BARRATARIA, Sept. 4th, 1814. 

 "TO GOVERNOR CLAIBORNE:

 "SIR:--In the firm persuasion that the choice made of you to fill the office of first magistrate of this State, was dictated by the esteem of your fellow citizens, and was conferred on merit, I confidently address you on an affair on which may depend the safety of this country. 

 "I offer to you to restore to this State several citizens, who perhaps, in your eyes, have lost that sacred title. I offer you them, however, such as you could wish to find them, ready to exert their utmost efforts in the defence of the country. 

 "This point of Louisiana, which I occupy, is of great importance in the present crisis. I tender my services to defend it; and the only reward I ask is that a stop be put to the proscription against me and my adherents, by an act of oblivion, for all that has been done heretofore. 

 "I am the stray sheep wishing to return to the fold. 

 "If you are thoroughly acquainted with the nature of my offences, I should appear to you much less guilty, and still worthy to discharge the duties of a good citizen. I have never sailed under any flag but the republic of Carthagena, and my vessels were perfectly regular in that respect. 

 "If I could have brought my lawful prizes into the ports of this State, I should not have employed illicit means that have caused me to be proscribed (hounded by the State authorities). 

 "I decline to say more upon this subject until I have your Excellency's answer, which I am persuaded can be dictated only by wisdom. Should your answer not be favorable to my ardent desire, I declare to you that I will instantly leave the country, to avoid the imputation of having coöperated towards an invasion on this point, which cannot fail to take place, and to rest secure in the acquittal of my conscience. 

 "I have the honor to be, "Your Excellency's Most Humble Servant, "J. LAFITTE. "

Now how is that for a swashbuckling privateer? Anyone would be proudof such a letter and it does honor to the judgment of this sand-spitking, giving clear evidence of a strange but sincere attachment to theAmerican cause. Hurrah for the Frenchman!

This missive, in fact, made such an impression upon the Governor thathe had an interview with Lafitte, who was ushered into his presenceonly to find General Andrew Jackson (Old Hickory) closeted with thechief executive. 

"My dear sir, " said the effusive Governor. "Your praiseworthy wishesshall be laid before the council of the State, and I will confer withmy august friend, here present, upon this important affair, and sendyou an answer. "

Bowing low, the courteous privateersman withdrew. 

"Farewell, " cried Old Hickory after his retreating form. "When we meetagain I trust that it will be in the ranks of the American Army. "

And in two days' time appeared the following proclamation:

"The Governor of Louisiana, informed that many individuals implicatedin the offences hitherto committed against the United States atBarrataria, express a willingness at the present crisis to enrollthemselves and march against the enemy. 

"He does hereby invite them to join the standard of the United States, and is authorized to say, should their conduct in the field meet theapprobation of the Major General, that that officer will unite withthe Governor in a request to the President of the United States, toextend to each and every individual, so marching and acting, a freeand full pardon. "

When Lafitte saw these words, he fairly yelled with delight, and it issaid that he jumped into the air, cracking his heels three timestogether before he struck the ground. 

The orders were circulated among his followers and most of themreadily embraced the pardon which they held out. Thus--in a fewdays--many brave men and skillful artillerists flocked to thered-white-and-blue standard of the United States. And when--a fewmonths afterwards--Old Hickory and his men were crouched behind a lineof cotton bales, awaiting the attack of a British army (heroes, infact, of Sargossa), there, upon the left flank, was the sand-spit Kingand his evil crew. Lafitte's eyes were sparkling like an electricbulb, and the language of his followers does not bear repetition. 

It was the morning of January eighth. The British were about to attackthe American Army defending New Orleans, which--under the leadershipof stout Andrew Jackson--now crouched behind the earthworks and cottonbales, some miles from the city. Rockets shot into the air with asizzling snap. The roar of cannon shook the thin palmettos, and wildBritish cheers came from the lusty throats of the British veterans ofSpain, as they advanced to the assault in close order--sixty men infront--with fascines and ladders for scaling the defences. Now averitable storm of rockets hissed and sizzed into the American lines, while a light battery of artillery pom-pomed and growled upon theleft flank. All was silence in the dun-colored embankments. 

But look! Suddenly a sheet of flame burst from the earthworks wherelay the buck-skin-clad rangers from Tennessee and Kentucky: men whohad fought Indians; had cleared the forest for their rude log huts, and were able to hit the eye of a squirrel at one hundred yards. _Crash! Crash! Crash!_ A flame of fire burst through the pall ofsulphurous smoke, a storm of leaden missiles swept into the red coatsof the advancing British, and down they fell in windrows, like wheatbefore the reaper. _Boom! Boom! Boom!_ The cannon growled and spatfrom the cotton bales, and one of these--a twenty-four pounder--placedupon the third embrasure from the river, from the fatal skill andactivity with which it was managed (even in the best of battle), --drewthe admiration of both Americans and British. It became one of thepoints most dreaded by the advancing foe. _Boom! Boom!_ It grumbledand roared its thunder, while Lafitte and his corsairs of Barratariarammed home the iron charges, and--stripped to the waist--fought likewolves at bay. 

Two other batteries were manned by the Barratarians, who served theirpieces with the steadiness and precision of veteran gunners. The enemycrept closer, ever closer, and a column pushed forward between thelevee and the river so precipitously that the outposts were forced toretire, closely pressed by the coats of red. On, on, they came, and, clearing the ditch before the earthworks, gained the redoubt throughthe embrasures, leaped over the parapet and quickly bayonetted thesmall force of backwoodsmen who held this point. 

"To the rescue, men, " cried Lafitte, at this juncture. "Out and at'em!"

Cutlass in hand, the privateer called a few of his best followers tohis side; men who had often boarded the decks of an East Indiaman andwere well used to hand-to-hand engagements. With a wild cheer theyleaped over the breastworks and rushed upon the enemy. 

The British were absolutely astonished at the intrepidity of thisadvance. Pistols spat, cutlasses swung, and one after another, theEnglish officers fell before the snapping blade of the King ofBarrataria, as they bravely cheered on their men. The practicedboarders struck the red-coated columns with the same fierceness withwhich they had often bounded upon the deck of an enemy, and cheerafter cheer welled above the rattle of arms as the advancing guardsmenwere beaten back. All the energies of the British were concentratedupon scaling the breastworks, which one daring officer had alreadymounted. But Lafitte and his followers, seconding a gallant band ofvolunteer riflemen, formed a phalanx which it was impossible topenetrate. They fought desperately. 

It was now late in the day. The field was strewn with the dead anddying. Still spat the unerring rifles of the pioneers and stillcrashed the unswerving volleys from their practiced rifles. "We cannottake the works, " cried the British. "We must give up. " And--turningabout--they beat a sad and solemn retreat to their vessels. The greatbattle of New Orleans was over, and Lafitte had done a Trojan's share. 

In a few days peace was declared between the United States and GreatBritain, and General Jackson--in his correspondence with the Secretaryof War--did not fail to speak in the most flattering terms of theconduct of the "Corsairs of Barrataria. " They had fought like tigers, and they had been sadly misjudged by the English, who wished to enlistthem in their own cause. Their zeal, their courage, and their skill, were noticed by the whole American Army, who could no longerstigmatize such desperate fighters as "criminals. " Many had beensabred and wounded in defence of New Orleans, and many had given uptheir lives before the sluggish bayous of the Mississippi. And now, Mr. Lafitte, it is high time that you led a decent life, for are younot a hero?

But "murder will out, " and once a privateer always a privateer, andsometimes a pirate. 

Securing some fast sailing vessels, the King of Barrataria sailed toGalveston Bay, in 1819, where he received a commission from GeneralLong as a "privateer. " Not content with living an honest and peacefullife, he proceeded to do a little smuggling and illicit trading uponhis own account, so it was not long before a United States cruiser wasat anchor off the port to watch his movements. He was now Governor ofGalveston, and considered himself to be a personage of great moment. Five vessels were generally cruising under his orders, while threehundred men obeyed his word. Texas was then a Republic. 

 "Sir"--wrote Lafitte to the Commander of the American cruiser off the port of Galveston--"I am convinced that you are a cruiser of the navy, ordered here by your Government. I have, therefore, deemed it proper to inquire into the cause of your lying before this port without communicating your intention. I wish to inform you that the port of Galveston belongs to and is in the possession of the Republic of Texas, and was made a port of entry the 9th day of October, last. And, whereas the Supreme Congress of the said Republic have thought proper to appoint me as Governor of this place, in consequence of which, if you have any demands on said Government, you will please to send an officer with such demands, who will be treated with the greatest politeness. But, if you are ordered, or should attempt, to enter this port in a hostile manner, my oath and duty to the Government compel me to rebut your intentions at the expense of my life. 

 "Yours very respectfully, "J. LAFITTE. "

But to this the American officer paid no attention. Instead, heattacked a band of Lafitte's followers, who had stationed themselveson an island near Barrataria with several cannon, swearing that theywould perish rather than surrender to any man. As they had committedpiracy, they were open to assault. Twenty were taken, tried at NewOrleans, and hung, --the rest escaped into the cypress swamps, whereit was impossible to arrest them. 

When Lafitte heard of this, he said with much feeling:

"A war of extermination is to be waged against me. I, who have foughtand bled for the United States. I who helped them to win the battle ofNew Orleans. My cruisers are to be swept from the sea. I must turnfrom Governor of Galveston, and privateer to pirate. Then--away--andlet them catch me if they can. "

Now comes the last phase of his career. Too bad that he could not havedied honestly!

Procuring a large and fast-sailing brigantine, mounting sixteen guns, and having selected a crew of one hundred and sixty men, the desperateand dangerous Governor of Galveston set sail upon the sparkling watersof the Gulf, determined to rob all nations and neither to give quarternor to receive it. 

But luck was against him. A British sloop-of-war was cruising in theMexican Gulf, and, hearing that Lafitte, himself, was at sea, kept asharp lookout at the mast-head for the sails of the pirate. 

One morning as an officer was sweeping the horizon with his glass hediscovered a long, dark-looking vessel, low in the water: her sails aswhite as snow. 

"Sail off the port bow, " cried he. "It's the Pirate, or else I'm alandlubber. "

As the sloop-of-war could out-sail the corsair, before the wind, sheset her studding-sails and crowded every inch of canvas in chase. Lafitte soon ascertained the character of his pursuer, and, orderingthe awnings to be furled, set his big square-sail and shot rapidlythrough the water. But the breeze freshened and the sloop-of-warrapidly overhauled the scudding brigantine. In an hour's time she waswithin hailing distance and Lafitte was in a fight for his very life. 

_Crash!_

A cannon belched from the stern of the pirate and a ball camedangerously near the bowsprit of the Englishman. 

_Crash! Crash!_

Other guns roared out their challenge and the iron fairly hailed uponthe decks of the sloop-of-war; killing and wounding many of the crew. But--silently and surely--she kept on until within twenty yards of theracing outlaw. 

Now was a deafening roar. A broadside howled above the dancingspray--it rumbled from the port-holes of the Englishman--cutting theforemast of the pirate in two; severing the jaws of the main-gaff; andsending great clods of rigging to the deck. Ten followers of Lafittefell prostrate, but the great Frenchman was uninjured. 

A crash, a rattle, a rush, and the Englishman ran afoul of thefoe--while--with a wild cheer, her sailors clambered across thestarboard rails; cutlasses in the right hand, pistols in the left, dirks between their teeth. 

"Never give in, men!" cried the King of Barrataria. "You are now withLafitte, who, as you have learned, does not know how to surrender. "

But the Britishers were in far superior numbers. Backwards--everbackwards--they drove the desperate crew of the pirate ship. Twopistol balls struck Lafitte in the side which knocked him to theplanking; a grape-shot broke the bone of his right leg; he wasdesperate, dying, and fighting like a tiger. He groaned in the agonyof despair. 

The deck was slippery with blood as the Captain of the boarders rushedupon the prostrate corsair to put him forever out of his way. While heaimed a blow a musket struck him in the temple, stretching him besidethe bleeding Lafitte, who, raising himself upon one elbow, thrust adagger at the throat of his assailant. 

But the tide of his existence was ebbing like a torrent; his brain wasgiddy; his aim faltered; the point of the weapon descended upon theright thigh of the bleeding Englishman. Again the reeking steel wasupheld; again the weakened French sea-dog plunged a stroke at thishalf-fainting assailant. 

The dizziness of death spread over the sight of the Monarch of theGulf of Mexico. Down came the dagger into the left thigh of theCaptain; listlessly; helplessly; aimlessly; and Lafitte--the robber ofSt. Malo--fell lifeless upon the rocking deck. His spirit went outamidst the hoarse and hollow cheers of the victorious Jack-tars of theclinging sloop-of-war. 

 "The palmetto leaves are whispering, while the gentle trade-winds blow, And the soothing, Southern zephyrs, are sighing soft and low, As a silvery moonlight glistens, and the droning fire-flies glow, Comes a voice from out the Cypress, 'Lights out! Lafitte! Heave ho!'"

THE PIRATE'S LAMENT

 I've been ploughin' down in Devonshire, My folks would have me stay, Where the wheat grows on th' dune side, Where th' scamperin' rabbits play. But th' smells come from th' ocean, An' th' twitterin' swallows wheel, As th' little sails bob landwards, To th' scurryin' sea-gulls' squeal. 

 _Oh, it's gold, gold, gold, _ _That's temptin' me from here. _ _An' it's rum, rum, rum, _ _That makes me know no fear. _ _When th' man-o-war is growlin', _ _As her for'ard swivels roar, _ _As th' decks are black with wounded, _ _An' are runnin' red with gore. _

 I've been goin' to church o' Sundays, An' th' Parson sure can talk, He's been pleadin' for my soul, Sir, In Paradise to walk. An' I kind o' have th' shivers, Come creepin' down my spine, When th' choir breaks into music, While th' organ beats th' time. 

 _But it's gold, gold, gold, _ _That glitters in my eye, _ _An' it's rum, rum, rum, _ _That makes me cheat an' lie, _ _When th' slaver's in th' doldrums, _ _Th' fleet is closin' round, _ _An' th' Captain calls out, furious, _ _"Now, run th' hound aground!"_

 No matter how I farm, Sir, No matter how I hoe, Th' breezes from th' blue, Sir, Just kind uv make me glow. When th' clipper ships are racin', An' their bellyin' sails go past, I just leave my team an' swear, Sir, I'll ship before th' mast. 

 _For it's gold, gold, gold, _ _That makes me shiver, like, _ _An' it's rum, rum, rum, _ _That makes me cut an' strike, _ _When th' boarders creep across th' rail, _ _Their soljers all in line, _ _An' their pistols spittin' lead, Sir, _ _Like er bloomin' steam engine. _

 So I'll kiss my plough good-bye, Sir, I'll throw my scythe away, An' I'm goin' to th' dock, Sir, Where th' ships are side th' quay. Shake out th' skull an' cross-bones, Take out th' signs of Marque, An' let's cut loose an' forage, In a rakish ten-gun barque. 

THE MEN BEHIND THE GUNS

 A cheer and salute for the Admiral, and here's to the Captain bold, And never forget the Commodore's debt, when the deeds of might are told! They stand to the deck through the battle's wreck, when the great shells roar and screech-- And never they fear; when the foe is near, to practice what they preach: But, off with your hat, and three times three, for the war-ship's true-blue sons, The men who batter the foe--my Boys--the men behind the guns. 

 Oh, light and merry of heart are they, when they swing into port, once more, When, with more than enough of the "green-backed stuff, " they start for their leave-o'-shore; And you'd think, perhaps, that these blue-bloused chaps who loll along the street, Are a tender bit, with salt on it, for some fierce chap to eat-- Some warrior bold, with straps of gold, who dazzles and fairly stuns The modest worth of the sailor boys, --the lads who serve the guns. 

 But, say not a word, till the shot is heard, that tells of the peace-blood's ebb, Till the long, low roar grows more and more, from the ships of the "Yank" and "Reb. " Till over the deep the tempests sweep, of fire and bursting shell, And the very air is a mad Despair, in the throes of a living Hell: Then, down, deep down, in the mighty ship, unseen by the mid-day suns, You'll find the chaps who are giving the raps--the men behind the guns. 

 --ROONEY (_Adapted_). 

RAPHAEL SEMMES

DESPOILER OF AMERICAN COMMERCE

(1809-1877)

 "Sit apart, write; let them hear or let them forbear; the written word abides, until, slowly and unexpectedly, and in widely sundered places, it has created its own church. "--RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 

RAPHAEL SEMMES

DESPOILER OF AMERICAN COMMERCE

(1809-1877)

 "We started from Ole England fer to cripple up our foes, We started from Ole England fer to strike some rapid blows, So we coasted to the Azores where we ran a packet down, And then to the Bermudas, where we burned the _Royal Crown_, Then we scampered to Bahia, fer to sink the gay _Tycoon_, And to scuttle the _Justina_, before the Harvest Moon. We hit across the ocean to race by Cape Good Hope And in Madagascar channel towed _Johanna_ with a rope. Away off at Sumatra, we had lots an' lots uv fun, When we winged the _Pulo Condor_; but say, --we had a run, An' a pretty bit uv fightin', when we took the _Emma Jane_ Off th' heated coast uv India, near th' bendin' sugar cane. Yes, we did some privateerin', as wuz privateerin', sure, An' we scuttled many a schooner, it wuz risky business pure. But--stranger--we'd be laughin', jest filled with persiflage, If we hadn't had a seance with that bloomin' _Kearsarge_. "

 --_Song of the Chief Mate of the Alabama. _--1864. 

It was off the east coast of South America. The year was 1864, and alittle schooner--the _Justina_--bobbed along, with the flag of theUnited States Government flying jauntily from her gaff. 

Suddenly there was a movement on deck. Men rushed hither and thitherwith some show of excitement. Glasses were brought out andraised, --smothered cries of excitement were mingled with orders totrim sails. All eyes looked with suspicion and dismay at a long, graceful vessel which was seen approaching from the northward. 

"The _Alabama_!" cried one. 

"Yes, the cursed _Alabama_!" answered another. "We are lost!"

On, on came the pursuing vessel; a cloud of black smoke rolling fromher smoke-stack; her white sails bellying in the fresh breeze; for shewas rigged like a barquentine, with a lean body, single smoke-stack, and a polished rifle-gun winking in the sun-rays upon her bow. On, on, she came, and then--_puff! boom!_--a single shot came dancing in frontof the slow-moving schooner. 

"Pull down the colors!" shouted the Captain of the _Justina_. "We'redone for!"

Down came the ensign of the United States, and the little schooner wasluffed so that she stood still. The _Alabama_ ranged up alongside, aboat soon brought a crew of boarders, and, before many moments, shewas in the hands of Captain Raphael Semmes and his men. 

That evening the _Alabama_ steamed southward, the crew of the_Justina_ was on board, her rich cargo filled the hold, and a blackcurl of smoke and hissing flames marked where the proud, littlemerchantman had once bobbed upon the rolling water. Raphael Semmes washappy, for his work of destroying the commerce of the United StatesNavy had progressed far better than he had hoped. 

[Illustration: RAPHAEL SEMMES. ]

"Men!" cried he, "The cause of the Confederate States of Americawas never brighter upon the ocean than now. Give three times three forJeff. Davis--his soldiers and his sailors!"

A rousing cheer rose above the waves, and the proud privateer boundedonward upon her career of destruction and death. The _Alabama_ was inthe zenith of her power. 

 * * * * *

The scene now shifts to the harbor of Cherbourg, upon the westerncoast of France. The _Alabama_ lay there, --safely swinging at heranchor-chains within the break-water. She had come in to refit, forher bottom was much befouled by a long cruise, which had beensuccessful. Built at Birkenhead, England, for the Confederate StatesGovernment, she set sail in August, 1862; and had been down the coastof North and South America; around the Cape of Good Hope to India, andback to the shores of France. Sixty-six vessels had fallen into herclutches, and of these fifty-two had been burned; ten had beenreleased on bond; one had been sold, and one set free. Truly she hadhad a marvellous trip. 

As she slumbered on--like a huge sea-turtle--a black cloud of smokeappeared above the break-water, and a low-bodied United States cruiserslowly steamed into the harbor. She nosed about, as if looking forsafe anchorage, and kept upon the opposite side of the little bay. 

Immediately all hands clambered to the side of the Confederatecruiser, and glasses were levelled at this vessel which carried theflag of opposition. 

"She's stronger than we are, " said one of the crew. 

Another grinned. 

"Look at her eleven-pounders, " said he. "I see her name, now. She'sthe _Kearsarge_, and about our tonnage, but I reckon that she carriesmore men. "

Captain Semmes, himself, had come up from below, and was examining theintruder with his glass. 

"Boys!" said he, "we've got to fight that ship. "

And, as he withdrew into the cabin, all seemed to be well pleased withthis announcement. 

The _Kearsarge_, commanded by Captain John A. Winslow, had been lyingat anchor in the Scheldt, off Flushing, Holland, when a gun roaredfrom the forward part of the ship, warning those officers who had goneashore, to come on board. Steam was raised, and, as soon as all werecollected on deck, the Captain read a telegram from Mr. Dayton, theMinister to France from the United States. It said:

"The _Alabama_ has arrived at Cherbourg. Come at once or she willescape you!"

"I believe that we'll have an opportunity to fight her, " said CaptainWinslow. "So be prepared. "

At this, all of his sailors cheered wildly. 

The _Kearsarge_ was a staunch craft; she was two hundred andthirty-two feet over all, with thirty-three feet of beam, and carriedseven guns; two eleven inch pivots, smooth bore; one thirty-poundrifle, and four light thirty-two pounders. Her crew numbered onehundred and sixty-three men. The sleeping _Alabama_ had but onehundred and forty-nine souls on board, and eight guns: one sixty-eightpounder pivot rifle, smooth bore; one one hundred-pounder pivot, andsix heavy thirty-two pounders. So, you see, that the two antagonistswere evenly matched, with the superior advantage of the numbers of menon the _Kearsarge_ offset by the extra guns of her opponent. 

Most of the officers upon the _Kearsarge_ were from the merchantservice, and, of the crew, only eleven were of foreign birth. Most ofthe officers upon the _Alabama_ had served in the navy of the UnitedStates; while nearly all of her crew were either English, Irish, orWelsh. A few of the gunners had been trained aboard the _Excellent_: aBritish training ship in Portsmouth Harbor. Her Captain--RaphaelSemmes--was once an officer in the navy of the United States. He hadserved in the Mexican War, but had joined the Southern cause, as hewas a Marylander. He was an able navigator and seaman. 

The _Kearsarge_ cruised about the port of Cherbourg, poked her bowsnearly into the break-water, and then withdrew. The French neutralitylaw would only allow a foreign vessel to remain in a harbor fortwenty-four hours. 

"Will she come out?" was the question now upon every lip aboard the_Kearsarge_. "Will she come out and fight? Oh, just for one crack atthis destroyer of our commerce!"

But she did not come out, and the _Kearsarge_ beat around the EnglishChannel in anxious suspense. 

Several days later Captain Winslow went ashore and paid a visit tothe United States Commercial Agent. 

"That beastly pirate will not fight, " he thought. "All she wants to dois to run away. "

Imagine how his eyes shone when he was handed the following epistle!

 "C. S. S. _Alabama_, CHERBOURG, June 14th, 1864. 

 "To A. BONFILS, Esqr. , Cherbourg;

 "SIR:--I hear that you were informed by the United States Consul that the _Kearsarge_ was to come to this port solely for the prisoners landed by me, and that she was to depart in twenty-four hours. I desire you to say to the U. S. Consul that my intention is to fight the _Kearsarge_ as soon as I can make the necessary arrangements. I hope these will not detain me more than until to-morrow evening, or after the morrow morning at furthest. I beg she will not depart before I am ready to go out. 

 "I have the honor to be, very respectfully, "Your obedient servant, "R. SEMMES, Captain. "

"Ha! Ha!" chuckled Winslow. "We're in for it, now. Hurray!" and hehastened back to his ship to spread the glad tidings. 

"My boys!" said he to his crew. "It is probable that the two shipswill engage on parallel lines, and, if defeated, the _Alabama_ willseek for neutral waters. It is necessary, therefore, that we beginthis action several miles from the break-water. The _Alabama_ mustbelieve that she can win, or she would not fight us, for, if we sinkher, she cannot be replaced by the Confederate Government. As forourselves, let us never give up, and--if we sink--let us go down withthe flag flying!"

"Hear! Hear!" cried all. "We're with you, Captain. Never give up theship!"

"Clean decks, boys!" continued brave Winslow. "Get everythingship-shape for the coming affair, for we're in for as tight a littlefight as e'er you entered upon. "

Preparations were immediately made for battle, but no _Alabama_appeared. 

Thursday passed; Friday came; the _Kearsarge_ waited in the channelwith ports down; guns pivoted to starboard; the whole battery loaded;and shell, grape, and canister ready to use in any method of attack ordefence, --but no _Alabama_ appeared. A French pilot-boat drifted near, and the black-eyed skipper cried out, "You fellers look out for ze _Alabama_. She take in much coal. Whew!She take much of ze captured stuff ashore. Whew! She scrub ze deck. Whew! She put ze sailors to ze business of sharpening ze cutlass andze dirk. Whew! You look out for ze great privateer! Whew!"

Captain Winslow only smiled. 

"Zey have ze big feast, " continued the Frenchman. "Zey dr-e-e-nk zewine. Zey stan' on ze chairs and zey say, 'We will seenk ze Yankeedog. ' Ta donc! Zey call you ze dog!"

And still Captain Winslow smiled. But, next day, his smile turned toa frown. 

It was Sunday, the nineteenth day of June. The weather was beautiful;the atmosphere was somewhat hazy; the wind was light; and there waslittle sea. At ten o'clock the _Kearsarge_ was drifting near a buoyabout three miles eastward from the entrance of Cherbourg break-water. Her decks had been newly holy-stoned; the brass work had been cleaned;the guns polished, and the crew had on their Sunday clothes. They hadbeen inspected, and dismissed--in order to attend divine service. 

At 1. 20 a cry rang out:

"She comes!"

The bell was tolling for prayers. 

"The _Alabama_! The _Alabama_! She's moving, and heading straight forus!"

All rushed to the deck; the drum beat to quarters. Captain Winslowlaid aside his prayer-book, seized his trumpet, ordered the boatabout, and headed seaward. The ship was cleared for action and thebattery was pivoted to starboard. 

Yes, she was coming!

From the western entrance of the safe, little French seaport steamedthe long-bodied, low-hulled privateer: her rakish masts bendingbeneath the spread of canvas: her tall funnel belching sepia smoke. AFrench iron-clad frigate--the _Couronne_--accompanied her, flying thepennant of the Commander-of-the-Port. In her wake plodded a tinyfore-and-aft-rigged steamer-yacht: the _Deerhound_, showing the flagof the Royal Mersey (British) Yacht Club. The frigate--having convoyedthe Confederate privateer to the limit of the French waters (threemarine miles from the coast)--put down her helm and ploughed back intoport. The steam yacht continued on, and remained near the scene ofaction. 

As the _Alabama_ had started upon her dash into the open, CaptainSemmes had mounted a gun-carriage, and had cried, "Officers and Seamen of the _Alabama_:

"You have at length another opportunity of meeting the enemy--thefirst that has been presented to you since you sank the _Hatteras_! Inthe meantime you have been all over the world, and it is not too muchto say that you have destroyed, and driven for protection underneutral flags, one-half of the enemy's commerce, which, at thebeginning of the war, covered every sea. This is an achievement ofwhich you may well be proud, and a grateful country will not beunmindful of it. The name of your ship has become a household wordwherever civilization extends! Shall that name be tarnished by defeat?The thing is impossible! Remember that you are in the English Channel, the theatre of so much of the naval glory of our race, and that theeyes of all Europe are, at this moment, upon you. The flag that floatsover you is that of a young Republic, which bids defiance to herenemies whenever and wherever found! Show the world that you know howto uphold it! Go to your quarters!"

A wild yell had greeted these stirring expressions. 

The shore was black with people, for the word had been passed aroundthat the two sea-warriors were to grapple in deadly embrace. Even aspecial train had come from Paris to bring the sober townsfolk toCherbourg, where they could view the contest. They were chatteringamong themselves, like a flock of magpies. 

"Voilà!" said a fair damsel, whose eyes were fairly shining withexcitement. "Oh, I hope zat ze beeg gray fellow weel win. "

She meant the _Alabama_, for the Confederates dressed in that sobercolor. 

"Zis ees ze naval Waterloo!" whispered a veteran of the Crimean War. 

It was 10. 50 o'clock. The _Kearsarge_ had been steaming out to sea, but now she wheeled. She was seven miles from shore and one andone-quarter miles from her opponent. She steered directly for her, asif to ram her and crush through her side. The _Alabama_ sheered offand presented her starboard battery. The _Kearsarge_ came on, rapidly, and--at 10. 57 was about eighteen hundred yards from herenemy--then--_Crash! Roar!_ A broadside thundered from the Confederateprivateer, while the solid shot screamed through the rigging of theYankee man-of-war. 

On! On! came Captain Winslow's gallant craft, while a second and athird broadside crashed into her. The rigging tore and swayed, but shewas little injured. She was now within nine hundred yards. 

"Sheer! Sheer!" cried the Union Commander. 

The _Kearsarge_ spun off and broke her long silence with thestarboard battery. _Crash! Roar!_ the shells pounded around the greatprivateer, and, with a full head of steam, the corsair of the SouthernConfederacy swept onward. _Crash! Roar!_ she answered with shell, andthe bursting iron shivered the foremast of her doughty opponent. 

Captain Winslow was fearful that the enemy would make for the shore, so he spun over his helm to port in the endeavor to run under the_Alabama_'s stern and rake her. But she sheered off, kept herbroadside to him, and pounded away like a pugilist. The ships were aquarter of a mile (440 yards) away from each other. They were circlingaround in a wide arc, plugging away as fast as they could load. Thespectators cheered, for it was as good a show as they had everwitnessed. 

"Eet ees fine!" said the veteran of the Crimea. "Eet remin' me of zebattaile at Balaklava!"

Suddenly a wild cheer rose from the deck of the United States cruiser. A shot had struck the spanker-gaff on the enemy and her ensign hadcome down on the run. 

"Hurray!" shouted the seamen. "That means we'll win, sure!"

The fallen ensign re-appeared at the mizzen, while firing from the_Alabama_ became rapid and wild. The gunners of the _Kearsarge_ hadbeen cautioned against shooting without direct aim, and had been toldto point their heavy guns below, rather than above the water-line. 

Captain Winslow was busy with his orders. 

"Clear the enemy's deck with the light guns!" he shouted. "Sink theConfederate with the heavy iron!"

Cheer succeeded cheer from his sailors. Caps were thrown into the air, or overboard. Jackets were tossed aside. Now, certain of victory, themen were shouting wildly, as each projectile took effect. 

"That's a good one!"

"Down, boys, down!"

"Give her another like the last!"

"Now--we have her!"

The vessels continued to swing around each other in wide circles, and--at this moment--a sixty-eight pound Blakely shell passed throughthe starboard bulwarks of the _Kearsarge_ below the main rigging, exploded on the quarter-deck, and wounded three of the crew of theafter pivot-gun. The three unfortunate men were speedily taken below, but the act was done so quietly, that--at the termination of thefight--a large number of the crew were unaware that any of theircomrades were injured. 

Two shots now crashed through the port-holes occupied by thethirty-two pounders; one exploded in the hammock-netting; the othershrieked through the opposite port; yet no one was hurt. Fire blazedfrom the deck; the alarm calling for fire-quarters was sounded, andthe men who had been detailed for this emergency put it out. The reststayed at the guns. 

[Illustration: "THE MEN WERE SHOUTING WILDLY, AS EACH PROJECTILE TOOKEFFECT. "]

The eleven-inch shells were doing terrible execution upon thequarter-deck of the _Alabama_. Three of them crashed into theeight-inch pivot-gun port; the first swept off the forward part ofthe gun's crew; the second killed one man and wounded several others;the third struck the breast of the gun-carriage and spun around on thedeck until one of the men picked it up and threw it overboard. Theship was careening heavily to starboard, while the decks were coveredwith the dead and dying. A shell plunged into the coal bunker and adense cloud of coal dust arose. Crippled and torn, the hulkingprivateer began to settle by the stern. Her guns still spat andgrowled, and her broadsides were going wild. She was fast weakening. 

"Any one who silences that after pivot-gun will get one hundreddollars!" cried Captain Semmes, as he saw the fearful accuracy of itsfire. 

_Crash!_ a whole broadside from the privateer spat at this particularpiece. It was in vain. 

Around and around circled the belching _Kearsarge_. Seven times shehad swooped about the weakening gladiator of the sea, and her fire wasmore and more accurate. She was like a great eagle closing in for adeaththrust. Captain Semmes was in a desperate situation. 

"Hoist the fore-trysail and jibs!" he called out above the din ofcannon. "Head for the French coast!"

As the sailors scrambled to obey, the _Alabama_ presented her portbattery to the _Kearsarge_. She showed gaping sides and only two gunswere bearing. 

At this moment the chief engineer came up on the deck of theprivateer. 

"The fires are all out and the engines will not work!" he reported toCaptain Semmes. 

The doughty seaman turned to his chief executive officer, Mr. Kell. 

"Go below, sir, " he shouted, "and see how long the ship can float!"

In a few moments the sailor had returned from his inspection. 

"Captain!" cried he, saluting. "She will not stay on the sea for tenminutes. "

The face of the Confederate was ashen, as he answered, "Then, sir, cease firing, shorten sail, and haul down the colors. Itwill never do in this Nineteenth Century for us to go down with thedecks covered with our gallant wounded!"

As he ceased speaking, a broadside roared from the side of his sinkingvessel. The ensign of the _Kearsarge_ had been stopped (rolled up andtied with a piece of twine) and, as a shell crashed through herrigging, a piece hit the flag-halyards--parted them--and unstopped theflag. It unfurled itself gallantly in the breeze, and, as itsbeautiful striping waved aloft, the sailors upon the deck gave a loudcheer, for this was the omen of Victory. 

At this moment, two of the junior officers upon the _Alabama_ sworethat they would never surrender, and, in a spirit of mutiny, rushed tothe two port guns and opened fire upon the Union vessel. 

"He is playing us a trick!" shouted Winslow. "Give him anotherbroadside!"

Again the shot and shell went crashing through the sides of theConfederate cruiser. The _Kearsarge_ was laid across her bows forraking, and, in a position to use grape and canister. 

A white flag was then shown over the stern of the _Alabama_ and herensign was half-masted; Union down. 

"Cease firing!" shouted Captain Winslow. 

The great fight was over. It had lasted one hour and two minutes. 

_Chugety, plug, splash!_ The boats were lowered from the _Alabama_, and her Master's mate rowed to the _Kearsarge_, with a few of hiswounded. 

"We are sinking, " said he. "You must come and help us!"

"Does Captain Semmes surrender his ship?" asked Winslow. 

"Yes!"

"All right. Then I'll help you!"

Fullam grinned. 

"May I return with this boat and crew in order to rescue thedrowning?" he asked. "I pledge you my word of honor that I will thencome on board and surrender. "

Captain Winslow granted his request. 

With less generosity, the victorious Commander could have detained theofficers and men, supplied their places with his own sailors, andoffered equal aid to the distressed. His generosity was abused. Fullampulled to the midst of the drowning; rescued several officers; went tothe yacht _Deerhound_, and cast his boat adrift; leaving a number ofmen struggling in the water. 

The _Alabama_ was settling fast. 

"All hands overboard!" cried Mr. Kell. "Let every man grab alife-preserver, or a spar. "

As the sailors plunged into the sea, Captain Semmes dropped his swordinto the waves and leaped outward, with a life-preserver around hiswaist. Kell followed, while the _Alabama_ launched her bows high inthe air, and--graceful, even in her death throes--plungedstern-foremost into the deep. A sucking eddy of foam, spars, andwreckage marked where once had floated the gallant ship. 

Thus sank the terror of the merchantmen--riddled through andthrough--and no cheer arose as her battered hulk went down inforty-five fathoms of water. Her star had set. 

The _Deerhound_ had kept about a mile to windward of the twocontestants, but she now steamed towards the mass of living heads, which dotted the surface of the sea. Her two boats were lowered, andCaptain Semmes was picked up and taken aboard, with forty others. Shethen edged to the leeward and steamed rapidly away. 

An officer quickly approached Captain Winslow. 

"Better fire a shot at the yacht, " he said, saluting. "She's gotCaptain Semmes aboard and will run off with him. "

Winslow smiled. 

"It's impossible, " said he. "She's simply coming around!"

But the _Deerhound_ kept on. 

Another officer approached the commander of the _Kearsarge_. 

"That beastly yacht is carrying off our men, " said he. "Better bringher to, Captain!"

"No Englishman who carries the flag of the Royal Yacht Squadron can soact!" Winslow replied, --somewhat pettishly. "She's simply comingaround. "

But she never "came around, " and Captain Raphael Semmes was soon safeupon British soil. He had fought a game fight. The superior gunnery ofthe sailors of the _Kearsarge_ had been too much for him. Nine of hiscrew were dead and twenty-one wounded, while the _Kearsarge_ had noone killed and but three wounded; one of whom died shortly afterwards. 

Thus, --the lesson is:

If you want to win: Learn how to shoot straight!

 * * * * *

Captain Raphael Semmes died quietly at Mobile, Alabama, August 30th, 1877. His ill-fated _Alabama_ had inflicted a loss of over sevenmillion dollars upon the commerce of the United States. 

A number of wise men met, many years afterwards, in Geneva, Switzerland, and decided, that, as the British Government had allowedthis vessel to leave their shores, when warned by the Americanminister of her character and intention to go privateering, it shouldtherefore pay for all the vessels which the graceful cruiser haddestroyed. England had broken the neutrality laws. 

John Bull paid up. 

 But, --Boys-- it hurt!

EL CAPITAN

 "There was a Captain-General who ruled in Vera Cruz, And what we used to hear of him was always evil news: He was a pirate on the sea--a robber on the shore, The Señor Don Alonzo Estabán San Salvador. 

 "There was a Yankee skipper who round about did roam; His name was Stephen Folger, --Nantucket was his home: And having sailed to Vera Cruz, he had been _skinned_ full sore By the Señor Don Alonzo Estabán San Salvador. 

 "But having got away alive, though all his cash was gone, He said, 'If there is vengeance, I will surely try it on! And I do wish that I may be hung, --if I don't clear the score With Señor Don Alonzo Estabán San Salvador. '

 "He shipped a crew of seventy men--well-arméd men were they, And sixty of them in the hold he darkly stowed away; And, sailing back to Vera Cruz, was sighted from the shore By the Señor Don Alonzo Estabán San Salvador. 

 "With twenty-five soldados, he came on board, so pleased, And said '_Maldito_, Yankee, --again your ship is seized. How many sailors have you got?' Said Folger, 'Ten--no more, ' To the Captain Don Alonzo Estabán San Salvador. 

 "'But come into my cabin and take a glass of wine, I do suppose, as usual, I'll have to pay a fine: I've got some old Madeira, and we'll talk the matter o'er-- My Captain Don Alonzo Estabán San Salvador. '

 "And, as over the Madeira the Captain-General boozed, It seemed to him as if his head were getting quite confused; For, it happened that some morphine had travelled from 'the Store' To the glass of Don Alonzo Estabán San Salvador. 

 "'What is it makes the vessel roll? What sounds are these I hear? It seems as if the rising waves were beating on my ear!' 'Oh, it is the breaking of the surf--just that, and nothing more, My Captain Don Alonzo Estabán San Salvador!'

 "The Governor was in a sleep, which muddled up his brains; The seventy men had caught his 'gang' and put them all in chains; And, when he woke the following day, he could not see the shore, For he was away out on the sea--the Don San Salvador. 

 "'Now do you see the yard-arm--and understand the thing?' Said rough, old Folger, viciously--'for this is where you'll swing, Or forty thousand dollars you shall pay me from your store, My Captain Don Alonzo Estabán San Salvador!'

 "The Captain he took up a pen--the order he did sign-- 'O my, but Señor Yankee! You charge great guns for wine!' Yet it was not until the draft was paid, they let him go ashore, El Señor Don Alonzo Estabán San Salvador. 

 * * * * *

 "The greater sharp will some day find another sharper wit; It always makes the Devil laugh to see a biter bit; It takes two Spaniards, any day, to comb a Yankee o'er-- Even two like Don Alonzo Estabán San Salvador. "

RETROSPECT

 The curtain falls, the plays are done, To roar of shell and shock of gun; The scuttled shipping bobs and sways, In grime and muck of shallow bays. The tattered ensigns mould'ring lie, As diving otters bark and cry; While--in the lee of crumbling piers, The rotting hulk its decking rears. Gray, screaming kestrels wheel and sheer, Above the wasted steering gear. In moulding kelp and mackerel's sheen, The blighted log-book hides unseen. Red flash the beams of northern blaze. Through beaded clouds of Elmo's haze; While dim, unkempt, the ghostly crew Float by, and chant the lesson true!

 Sons of the fog-bound Northland; sons of the blinding seas, If ye would cherish the trust which your fathers left, Ye must strive--ye must work--without ease. Strong have your good sires battled, oft have your fathers bled, If ye would hold up the flag which they've never let sag, Ye must plod--ye must creep where they've led. The shimmering icebergs call you; the plunging screw-drums scream, By shallowing shoals they haul you, to the beat of the walking beam. The twisting petrels chatter, as ye drift by the waiting fleet, In your towering grim, gray Dreadnought, --a king who sneers at defeat. While the silken pennons flutter; as the frozen halyards strain; Comes the growling old-world mutter, the voice of the million slain:

 _Keep to your manly war games; keep to your warrior's play. _ _Though the dove of peace is dancing to the sounding truce harp's lay. _ _Arbitrate if you have to; smooth it o'er if you must, _ _But, be prepared for battle, to parry the war king's thrust. _ _Don't foster the chip on the shoulder; don't hasten the slap in the face. _ _But, burnish your sword, ere you're older, --the blade of the ancient race. _ _Hark to the deeds of your fathers; cherish the stories I've told, _ _Then--go and do like, if you have to--and die--like a Hero of Old. _

Transcriber's Note

Punctuation errors have been repaired. Hyphenation has been madeconsistent within the main text. There is some archaic and variablespelling, which has been preserved as printed. 

The following amendments have also been made:

 Page 3--repeated book title deleted. 

 Page 77--omitted word 'to' added after row--". . . Jumped into two small wherries in order to row to the lugger. "

 Page 156--pedlers amended to peddlers--"There are tinkers, tailors, haymakers, peddlers, fiddlers, . . . "

 Page 178--Huzza amended to Huzzah--"". . . Huzzah for Fortunatus Wright!""

 Page 226--envollé amended to envolé--""Sapristi! L'oiseau s'est envolé. ""

 Page 248--manoever amended to manoeuver--". . . Had simply followed my manoeuver of wearing around under easy helm . . . "

Illustrations have been moved slightly where necessary so that theyare not in the middle of a paragraph. The frontispiece and advertisingmatter have been moved to follow the title page.