The Noank's Log: A Privateer of the Revolution

by William Osborn Stoddard

  CHAPTER VI.

  THE BRITISH FLEET.

  The easterly end of Long Island is exceedingly ragged in its contour.It is made up of straggling promontories, bays, inlets, and theadjacent waters contain many islands, large and small, with outlyingrocky ledges. The opposite shore, the mainland of New England, is of asimilar character. Between them, the eastern sound and the neck ofwater by which it is to be entered, provide a great deal of prettycircumspect navigation.

  It is said, although no one now living was there at the time to collecttestimony, that once the mainland and the island were connected by arugged isthmus, now sunken or washed away. If it were ever there,enough of it is left to require good piloting.

  A fleet of war-ships proposing to blockade or supervise the port ofBoston, may at the same time extend its operations so as to cork up theSound. This process, if made sufficiently thorough, may include in theblockade such ports as New London, Providence, New Haven, and theirsmaller neighbors. All of these, during the Revolutionary War, werenot only developing rapidly their regular commercial relations but werenests of privateering enterprises.

  The British naval authorities were often unable to detail for this partof their general blockade of America a sufficient number of ships, andit was a service much disliked by their captains and crews, especiallyin winter.

  The area of ocean to be patrolled was wide, and in spite of allwatching the Yankee ships ran in and out. Boston, especially, wasbuilding up again, after its long period of military occupation, siege,and desolation, much to the disgust of its many enemies.

  During some hours after the escape of the _Noank_ from the _Boxer_,Up-na-tan was down in the hold, and Guert Ten Eyck was with him. Theold Manhattan was no builder of ships, whatever he might be able to dofor a canoe, but he had seen a great many, here and there. He seemednow to be carrying on a kind of critical investigation of the navalarchitecture of the schooner.

  "What is it?" asked Guert, as his red friend placed a hand curiouslyupon one of the ribs of the vessel and glanced from that to othertimbers.

  "Ugh!" said Up-na-tan. "Good stick. Like lobster war-ship. All makeschooner strong. Carry long gun!"

  "Captain Avery wishes she could," said Guert. "The mate thinks shecan't."

  "No gun anyhow, now," said the chief, shaking his head. "Wait!"

  The subject of the Manhattan's inquiry belonged to a controversy thengoing forward among the royal naval constructors and sea-captains. Thereason why England's third and fourth rate cruisers carried only lightguns, and many of them, was simply their frail timbering. Too heavyartillery might rack them dangerously. It would call for precisely thestrength of frame provided by American shipyards for craft which mightbump an ice-floe.

  Up-na-tan was still further informing himself concerning the skeletonof the _Noank_, when a shout from above summoned them both.

  "Guert," called down Captain Avery, "you and he come to the cabin. Nowall's clear, you must learn something."

  On the deck all things were quiet. Not a sail was in sight thatindicated a craft as large as their own. The schooner was spinningalong, with all sails set and a fair wind in them. Everything abouther, from deck to topmast, wore a clean, orderly, service look, thatspoke volumes for the high character of her crew. She was all ready todo her best at any moment, and she was sure of being well handled.Perhaps a seaman would have critically remarked upon the fact that withsuch a wind she was not taking a course directly out into the Atlantic.

  The captain's cabin, well aft below deck, was a small affair. Itseemed almost crowded when only half a dozen persons were in it.

  "Now, Guert," said Captain Avery, "if I don't make the chiefunderstand, you must explain it to him. Talk Dutch, or any otherlingo. He's the sharpest lookout there is on board, and he's a primesteersman. He must know what some things mean."

  "What things?" asked Guert.

  Two rugged old sailors who had entered the cabin with Sam Prentice,also looked on inquiringly, while the captain went to a locker and tookout of it a leather case.

  "Guert," he said, "it's the first duty of the commander of a shipthat's being taken by an enemy to put his private signal-bookoverboard. It's kept weighted all the while, so it will sink. Now,Luke Watts did his duty in that particular. His mate and his crewlooked on and saw him do it. So did I. They saw him drown somethinglike this."

  The case was open, now, and out of it was drawn what appeared to beseveral sheets of parchments, wired together, so that they might berolled up like a pamphlet.

  "Ugh!" said Up-na-tan. "Chief know 'em. Ship talk with lantern. Talkto other ship with flag. Captain got plenty lantern? Plenty flag?Tell Up-na-tan how."

  A deep cupboard under the captain's bunk was at once thrown open, andits contents were interesting. Red, green, blue, yellow, white, largelanterns and small. Beside them lay a collection of sheafs of rockets,each of which carried a written parchment tab to tell its nature.Signal flags were there, also, in tightly tied-up rolls, and Up-na-tanloudly grunted his approval of them.

  "First, now, for the book," said the captain. "Every man on board canbe trusted to know signals. There isn't one traitor in the _Noank_,nor a fool, either. Sam and I must go on deck. You and the men andthe redskin stay here and study those things. Git 'em all into yourhead, if you can. We may have a lot o' sharp dodgin' to do, thiscruise."

  Out he went, taking Sam with him, and then it at once appeared thatGuert had become a remarkable kind of schoolmaster, trying to explainto others what he did not know himself. The two sailors were notaltogether unlettered men, but lack of practice had left them slow atdeciphering handwriting, and Guert seemed to have a knack of it. Asfor the Indian, he did not know one letter from another, but he couldhandle flags and lanterns as if they were hunting signs or the totemsof clans and tribes. Signal after signal was picked out and itsworking practically illustrated in questions or answers.

  "'Top!" exclaimed Up-na-tan, at last. "Head full! See more by andby." So said the sailors, and Guert himself felt as if he had beengoing through a hard time at a new school.

  "But wasn't that a cute thing of Luke Watts!" he thought, as he came ondeck. "I'd like to try some o' those signals on a British ship. Idon't know how far we've run. The captain says our tightest squeezeisn't far ahead of us, now."

  The schooner, oddly enough, was actually running within sight of BlockIsland. Some, at least, of her perils must be behind her. Perhapsmore would have been if a sailing vessel could go straight ahead, inany direction, like a steamer. That, however, is one of several thingsthat she cannot do. Many an hour of swift sailing, tacking back andforth, must often be extended in gaining only a few miles of her truecourse.

  The crew of the _Noank_ were not at all puzzled by the peculiar mannerin which she was handled, and some of their faces betrayed anxiety.

  "Guess ole Avery wish dark come," remarked Coco to his friends as theystood together at the foremast. "Lobster out yonder, somewhere."

  It was only about the middle of the afternoon, and the captain'stelescope was busy every few minutes.

  "Ugh!" said Up-na-tan. "'Tack to Montauk. No go out yet. Captainhead good. Want fog. Want night."

  There was a laugh behind them, and Guert swung around to ask of SamPrentice:--

  "Can you tell me how it is, sir?"

  "I guess I can," said the mate. "We know a good deal more'n we did.While you were all below, we spoke a Providence man. Cod-fisher. Myboy, there's a whole fleet of Britishers out there, somewhere, spreadall along. Merchantmen, troop-ships, cruisers. Some of 'em heavyfellers. We must keep well in, for a while."

  "Ugh!" said the red man. "Mate let ole chief take glass. Want look."

  Prentice had with him his marine telescope, an unusually good one, andhe at once handed it to the Manhattan.

  "Your eyes are 'most as good as glasses," he said. "Let's see what youcan make out with that. I saw a sail, myself. Pretty well down,easterly."


  There is a great deal of difference in eyes, even in good ones, and theAmerican red men possess peculiar faculties for sign reading.

  "Ugh!" said the Indian, after slowly and carefully sweeping the sea andthe horizon with the glass. "Bad! _Noank_ 'tay in. One war-ship.One, two, three, four other ship."

  "Men-of-war and the convoy!" exclaimed Prentice. "Lyme Avery! Herethey are! Come this way! If the redskin hasn't sighted 'em!"

  "Ship o' line," now remarked Up-na-tan. "Frigate. Little gun ship."

  "Let me take the glass," said the captain, as he came; "it's a gooddeal more'n we had reason to expect. Makes things look kind o' cloudy."

  "Well," said Sam, "it's about what the Boston pilot told thatProvidence feller. If we'd ha' gone on in too much of a hurry, we'dha' run right in among 'em."

  "They're north o' their best course for New York," remarked thecaptain. "I wonder if any of 'em are from Halifax. It may mean morearmy to fight General Washington."

  "Mebbe," said Sam. "It's likely some of 'em are the reg'lar coastcruisers. As for the convoy, they're slow and heavy. It's about thecourse I'd expect them to run."

  "We'll take in sail and heave to," said the captain. "Our safesthidin'd be under Martha's Vineyard."

  They were not a very long reach from that island now. There wereseveral fishing smacks in sight, and none of them were taking in sail.It looked, rather, as if they were all heading homeward. Perhaps they,too, had been warned of a British fleet, and every man on board of themwas in danger of pitiless impressment, if his boat were to come withinrange of the guns of a king's ship.

  In came the sails of the _Noank_, and then came a time of watching,waiting, and anxiety.

  "Nine sail in sight," remarked Captain Avery, at last, "and there'smore'n that to come. British flag on every one of 'em. Of course,they've sighted us, long before this."

  "One comin' for us, I guess," said Coco.

  "Headin' this way, sure!"

  "I guess so," said the captain, quietly. "It's gettin' dusk, though.Her glasses won't do any good, much longer.--Men! All sail! Jump,now! Our time's come!"

  His manner had undergone a sudden change, and there was a red flush onhis face. The men heard him say to his son:--

  "No, Vine, I won't be taken. I'll fight that nighest feller, if I'vegot to. He isn't a heavy one."

  His orders went out fast, and the schooner was quickly under a cloud ofcanvas. She had indeed been noticed by the British commanders, andarrangements had been made to overhaul her, as a matter of course.

  Her flight, or at least her escape, from such a fleet as she was nowfacing, was an absurdity not to be thought of. Whatever sort ofAmerican craft she might be, she was soon to have an officer and aboat's crew on board of her, ascertaining how many of her sailors itwas best to take into the service of the king.

  "Father," suggested Vine, "they won't send a boat till they're nearerthan this, a good deal. The sea's getting a bit rough, too, and thewind's fresh'ning."

  "I don't care how many boats they send," replied the captain. "I cansink 'em as they come. We'll run farther in behind Nantucket, but wewon't go too far. The redskin says he saw a topsail off the channelthat's cut too square to suit us."

  "Reg'lar cruiser's tops'l," put in Sam Prentice. "How she came to bethere, I don't know. Are they layin' a trap for us? Lyme, this 'ere'sgoin' to be touch and go."

  "It'll be go, then," said the captain.

  "Maybe we won't touch, either. It's promisin' the darkest kind o'night. They won't dream o' what our next long tack'll be.--Men! Allhands! Hark a moment, now!"

  "Ay, ay, sir!" came back from all sides, and as many as could camecrowding around him.

  "There may be more'n twenty sail, of all sorts, yonder, for all weknow," he said. "We make it out it's the British army supply fleet,with troop-ships full of redcoats and Hessians. Likely, too, there arereg'lar merchantmen for New York. They've a strong convoy, j'ined,jest now, by the blockade ships, big and little. I calc'late, the moreof 'em there is, the better for us. I'm goin' to run the _Noank_ rightthrough 'em. Sam Prentice, take some men and fetch up the lanterns androckets. Now, boys, I ain't sure but we'll have a little fun, butthere mustn't be a loud word spoke on board this schooner."

  With subdued laughter and chuckles of appreciation, the men scatteredto their duties. There was not a sign of fear among them and hardly anexpression of doubt as to the result.

  The schooner herself seemed to go into the daring undertaking beforeher, with all her heart as well as with all sails set. She swungaround upon her seaward tack and went with a speed that did her credit.

  It was dark, and the darkness was deepening. Far away as yet, and inall directions, the lights that were hung out by the British ships,both of war and peace, were glimmering and twinkling as they rose andfell with the surges that bore them. It was shortly evident that someof these were signals that were exchanging, in accordance with thedirections of the secret signal code, and Captain Avery began to assortand arrange his lanterns.

  "Sam," he said, "I guess I'll answer that call to close up with theflag-ship. All the rest of our fleet are answerin' it."

  "Lyme," responded Prentice, "I'm in for fun, if there is any. Whycouldn't we mix 'em up?"

  "We'll try, anyhow," said the captain.

  "Cap'n," put in Up-na-tan, almost respectfully, so strong was gettingto be his warrior admiration for the cunning and courage of hiscommander, "s'pose we tell lobster ship, rebel enemy come. Rebel righthere. Make 'em feel good. Fire gun!"

  "I guess that's about as sharp a thing as we could do," replied thecaptain. "Guert, pick out those white rockets. Hand 'em over."

  Guert was having the fireworks under his especial charge, for he wasfound able to read the somewhat roughly written tabs.

  "Here they are, sir," he said in half a minute. "There's plenty moreof that kind."

  Vine Avery had the lanterns, and he had already made use of them inmocking replies to more than one swinging, dancing signal.

  Now, as the captain lighted the rockets, up into the gloom went fizzingand flashing the prescribed announcement of danger. Each rocket letout, as it exploded, a pretty large ball of red flame, as if toemphasize its message. War-ship after war-ship told her character byresponding with a similar rocket, the merchantmen keeping quiet, andthen from the flag-ship of the fleet came the boom of a heavy gun.

  "Heavens!" suddenly exclaimed Captain Avery, as he watched for thoseresponses. "One o' their cruisers is nigher'n I'd counted on!Starboard your helm, Sanders! All ready to go about!"

  "Ship ahoy!" came out of the gloom beyond them. "_Amphitrite_! Whatship's that? Where are the enemy? What is she?"

  "_Kr-g-h-um-n_, of Liverpool," sang out Captain Avery huskily,indistinctly, through his trumpet.

  "They won't make much out of that," Guert was thinking, but the Britishofficer angrily shouted back:--

  "_Kraken_, of Liverpool? You blockhead! What do I care for that?Where away's the Yankee?"

  "Armed schooner, sir! Pirate! Passed close by, westerly. Say 'bouttwo p'ints south."

  "Where away, now, stupid?"

  "On the lee bow, sir," trumpeted the captain. "Runnin' free. We wasnigh 'nough to see her guns."

  "Blockhead!" came back. "Why didn't you signal sooner? You deserve agood rope's ending! Close up with the admiral!"

  "Ay, ay, sir! There she goes! They're gettin' hold of her," respondedCaptain Avery.

  For at that moment another gun from another man-of-war sounded well toleeward. It was accompanied by more rocket signals that went up to beread by all the fleet.

  "Captain," sang out Guert, as he tried to read them, "green rocketbursting into red. It means 'Pirate in chase of merchantman.'"

  "All right," said the captain, "it's some other feller. We're not inchase of anybody. Up-na-tan! Vine! swing out that biggest bluelantern. I'll send up a blue rocket burstin' yeller and green. Thendouse the lanterns."

>   "What does that mean, father?" inquired Vine, raising the blue lights.

  "Mean?" uproariously responded the captain. "Why! it means 'Mutiny onboard ship. Send help to quell mutiny.'"

  The British admiral saw that rare and exceedingly annoying signal withintense indignation.

  "That's it!" he stormed, "another 'cursed mutiny! That comes ofcrowding the king's ships with the off-scourings of the merchantservice, and jail-birds, and slaves, and picaroons, and 'pressed Yankeerebels. Not one of 'em's fit to be trusted. The king'll lose ships byit! They'd better be all hung!"

  Meantime, under an almost perilous press of sail for such a wind and sorough a sea, the stanch, swift _Noank_ was dashing along her course.Every minute carried her oceanward, but not all her dangers were behindher.

  Rapid signalling went on between the British war-ships and their nowfrightened convoy. The unarmed vessels were hurrying toward theirprotectors like so many chickens toward a clucking hen. No otherincident or accident of any importance occurred to any of them. Ashour after hour went by in the darkness of the night, and then in thevery chilly morning that followed, an eager, angry, discomfortingprocess of inquiry went forward from ship to ship. Upon which of themhad been the mutiny? Had it succeeded? Had it been put down? Did themutineers take the boats and get away?

  "Not on this ship, sir," was the altogether uniform response, and allthe vessels known to be in company had been accounted for.

  Not only was it that not one solitary mutineer could be discovered: italso appeared that no such ship as the _Kraken_, of Liverpool, had atany time joined herself to that convoy.

  "'Pon my soul!" exclaimed the astonished admiral, at last, "this isgreat! Ponsonby, my dear fellow, the chap that hailed you in the darkmust have been the Yankee pirate himself. What do you think?"

  "I think he got away, sir," calmly replied Captain Ponsonby, of the_Amphitrite_, forty-four. "The rebel rascal has slipped through ourfingers in the most audacious manner. Showed pluck, too."

  "He did!" groaned the admiral.