Part 27 (1/2)
All of these s.h.i.+ps were converted merchantmen, hastily fitted out, poorly adapted for any warlike purpose, and, with the exception of the Fair American, exceedingly slow and unwieldy; but the heart of the young commander filled with pride as he surveyed the little squadron, which followed in his wake, looking handsome enough under full sail.
It was a great trust and responsibility reposed in his skill and experience; doubtless it was the only fleet the country had a.s.sembled, or could a.s.semble, at that time; the s.h.i.+ps were certainly not as he would have desired them, but they were the best that could be got together; and manned and officered by devoted men, they could at least fight s.h.i.+ps of their own size when the time came, and he trusted to be able to give a good account of the enemy, should they be so fortunate as to fall in with them. As for his own vessel, as his practised and critical eye surveyed the graceful proportions of the new and well-appointed s.h.i.+p, Seymour felt entirely satisfied with her. He regarded with pleasant appreciation the decks white as constant holy-stoning could make them, the long rows of grim black guns thrusting out their formidable muzzles on either side, and the lofty spars covered with clouds of new and snowy canvas. Everything was as neat and trim, and as ready, as ardor, experience, and ability, coupled with a generous expenditure from his own purse, could make them. He was satisfied with his officers and crew too. Seymour's reputation, his recent a.s.sociation with Paul Jones, the romantic story of his last successful cruise, the esteem in which he was held by Was.h.i.+ngton, and his own charming personality had conspired to render him a great favorite, and he had had the pick of Philadelphia's hardy seamen and gallant officers ere he sailed away. The three hundred and odd seamen and marines who comprised the crew were as fit and capable a body of men as ever trod the deck of a s.h.i.+p. Constant exercise and careful instruction, and drill and target practice, had made them exceedingly able in all the necessary manoeuvres, and in the handling of the guns.
Forward on the forecastle old Bentley was planted, surrounded by such of the older and more experienced petty officers and men as he permitted to a.s.sociate with him on terms of more or less familiarity.
Not only the position he occupied, that of boatswain of the frigate, gave him a vast importance with the men, but his age and experience, his long a.s.sociation with the captain, as well as some almost incredible tales of his familiar companions.h.i.+p with certain men of awe-inspiring name and great renown, with various mighty feats of arms in recent campaigns, vaguely current, conduced to make him the monarch of the forecastle, and the arbiter of the various discussions and arguments among the men, who rarely ventured to dispute the dictum of their oracle.
”Well, here we are pointing out again, thank the Lord!” he said to his particular friend and crony among the crew, the carpenter, Richard Spicer, a battered old sh.e.l.l-back, like himself. ”There is only one place from which I like to see the land, Richard!”
”And where is that, bosun?”
”Over the stern, as now, mate, when we 're going free with a fair wind, and leaving it fast behind. I feel safer then. A time since and I felt as if I never wanted to see it again from any place. To think of me, a decent G.o.d-fearing, seafaring man, at my time of life, turning soldier!” It is not in the power of written language to express the peculiar intonation of contempt which the old man laid upon that inoffensive word, ”soldier.” No one venturing to interrupt him, after staring at his particular aversion for a few moments, he went on more mildly, and in a reflective tone,--
”Not but what I have seen some decent soldiers--a few. There was old Blodgett, and young Mr. Talbot, ay, and General Was.h.i.+ngton too! Now there 's a man for you, s.h.i.+p-mates. Lord, what a sailorman he would have made! They tell me he had a mids.h.i.+pman's warrant offered him when he was a lad once, and actually refused it--refused it! preferred to be a soldier, and what a chance he lost! Might have been an admiral by now!”
”I 've heard tell as how 't was his mother that prevented him from goin' to sea--when he was ready an' willin' an' waitin' to get aboard,”
returned one of the men.
”May be, may be. The result's the same. You never can tell what women, and 'specially mothers, will do. They 're necessary, of course, leastways it's generally believed we all had 'em, though I remember none myself, nor Captain Seymour neither, and he 's a pretty good sort of a man--let alone me--but they've no place aboard s.h.i.+p. Now look what this one did,--spoiled a man that had the makin's of a first-cla.s.s sailor in him, and turned him into a soldier!”
”But where would we be in this country of ours now, bosun, if it were not for the soldiers? No, no, don't be too hard on this man, Captain Was.h.i.+ngton; he 's done his duty, and is doing it very well, too, so I 'm told, accordin' to your own account, matey,” replied the old carpenter; ”and soldiers is good too--in their places, that is, of course,” he went on deprecatingly. ”There are two kinds of men, as I take it, William, to do the fightin' in this world, sailormen and soldiermen; each has a place, a station to fill, and something to do, and one can't do t' other's work. Look at that there blasted marine, aft there in the gangway, for instance; he's a good man, I make no manner o' doubt, and he has got his place on this barkey, even if he is only a kind of a soldier and no sailorman at all.”
”Now I asks you, Chips, what particular good are soldiers, anyway, leaving marines out of the question, for they do live on s.h.i.+ps,” said the old sailorman. ”What can they do that we can't? They can fight, and fight hard--I 've seen 'em, but so can we,” he continued, extending his brawny arm; ”and they can march, too,--I've seen their b.l.o.o.d.y footmarks in the snow; but there were sailormen there that kept right alongside of 'em and did all that they could do. Oh, I forgot one thing--they can ride horses, that's one thing I could never learn at all! You 'd ought to seen me on one of the land-lubberly brutes. A horse has no place on s.h.i.+pboard, no more than a woman, and I 've no use for either of 'em. But if this country would spend all its money buying s.h.i.+ps, and man 'em with real first-cla.s.s sailormen, why, d'ye see, King George's men could never land on our sh.o.r.es at all. We 'd keep 'em off, and then there'd be no use for the soldiers; they could all go a-farming. No, give me s.h.i.+ps every time, they always win. I know what I am talking about; I have been on the sh.o.r.e for a month at a time until I thought I would turn into mud itself. No, 't is not even a fit place to be buried in; 'earth to earth' won't do for me when I die; I just want to be dropped overboard--there.”
”There is one time s.h.i.+ps didn't win,” said the carpenter, persisting in the argument, and pointing aft to the low mounds of sand backed by the rudely interlaced palmetto logs, behind which the gallant Moultrie had fought Barker's fleet six months before, until the s.h.i.+ps had been driven off in defeat.
”Those were British s.h.i.+ps, man,” said the old sailor, with contempt.
”I meant Americans, of course; it makes all the difference in the world. But as for land--I hate it. It's only good to grow vegetables, and soft tack, and fresh water, and tar, and timber, and breed children to make sailormen out of--why, it's a sort of a cook's galley, a kitchen they call it there, for the sea at best! Give me the sight of blue water, and let me have the solid feel of the deck beneath my feet; no unsteady earth for me!”
”Well, that's my own opinion, too, bo. But, after all, that's all that s.h.i.+ps is good for, anyway; just to sail from land to land and take people and things from place to place. The sea's between like.”
”You look at it the wrong way, mate. Certain of us men have sense enough to live on the sea, and keep away from land, except for water and provision. We go from sea to sea, and land 's between.”
”And what would you do for a country if we had no land? You 're always talking about lovin' your country, bosun.”
”Ay, that I do,” said the old man. ”I look upon a country, that is a land country, as a kind of necessary evil. My country 's this s.h.i.+p, and yon flag, what it means and stands for. It means liberty, free waters, no interference with peaceful traders on the high seas, following their rightful pursuits, by British s.h.i.+ps-of-war. Every man that has ever been aboard of one of those floating h.e.l.ls knows what liberty is not, well enough. No taxing of us by a Parliament on t'
other side of the world, neither. No king but the captain. Freedom!
So free that the lubberliest landsman on sh.o.r.e has a right to govern himself--if he can--subject to discipline and the commands of his superior officer, of course; and, besides, it's like a man's wife; if he's got to have one, he may beat her and abuse her, perhaps, but n.o.body else shall. No! Land's a pretty poor sort of a thing in general, but that aft there is the best there is going, and it 's our own. We 'll die for it, yes, for love of it, if it comes to that, even if we do hate it, on general principles mind, you understand.”
There was evidently a trace of Irish blood in the old sailor, it would seem, and so saying, with a wave of his hand, which brushed aside further argument, he turned abruptly on his heel and walked aft. In spite of all his words, which only reflected the usual opinion of sailors, in those days at least, he yielded to no man in patriotism and devotion to the cause of liberty and the land that gave him birth. And no man in all Was.h.i.+ngton's army had done better service, marched more cheerfully, or fought harder than this veteran seaman. The men on the forecastle generally agreed with him in his propositions, but the obstinate old carpenter, with the characteristic tenacity of the ancient tar, maintained the discussion forward, until the sharp voice of the officer of the deck sent all hands to the braces. The s.h.i.+p was brought to the wind on the starboard tack, a manoeuvre which was followed in succession by the other vessels of the squadron, which had been previously directed to keep, though still within signal, at long distances from each other during the day, closing up at night, in order to spread a broad clew and give greater chance of meeting the enemy.
The young captain paced the quarter-deck alone--no man is ever so much alone among his fellows as the commander of a s.h.i.+p--a prey to his own sad thoughts. Those who had known him the gayest of gay young sailors in Philadelphia were at a loss to account for the change which had come over him. He had become the gravest of the grave, his cheery laugh was heard no more, and the baffled young belles of Charleston had voted him a confirmed woman-hater; though his melancholy, handsome face, graceful person, distinguished bearing, and high station might have enabled him to pick and choose where he would. But there was room in his heart for no more pa.s.sions. Even his love of country and liberty had degenerated into a slow, cold hate for the British, and a desperate resolve to do his duty, and make his animosity tell when he struck. A dangerous man under whom to sail, gentleman of the Randolph, and a dangerous man to meet, as well. He could not forget Kate, and, except in the distraction of a combat, life was a mere mechanical routine for him.
But because he had been well trained he went through it well--biding his time.
CHAPTER x.x.xI
_Seymour's Desperate Resolution_