The moon had risen, and lighted up the bay, so that objects could be distinctly seen at a considerable distance. And soon after midnight, twelve boats, carrying nearly four hundred men, and armed with carronades, swivels, and blunderbusses, as well as muskets, pistols, and cutla.s.ses, left the squadron and pulled directly for the privateer. The crisis was at hand, and although the brave commander of the privateer knew that his vessel must eventually fall into the hands of his unscrupulous enemy, he determined to defend her to the last.
A fierce and desperate engagement ensued. As soon as the boats came within range, they were greeted with the contents of "long Tom;" and the nine pounders also faithfully performed their work. The guns were served with almost incredible skill and activity, and aimed with the nicest precision. The fire was returned by the boats, although it was evident that some of them suffered severely from the effects of the first broadside. Others, however, dashed alongside, with the expectation of carrying the privateer by boarding; but here, again, they were disappointed. Pistols and muskets flashed from every porthole, and boarding-pikes and cutla.s.ses, wielded by strong hands, presented a CHEVAUX-DE-FRISE which the enemy could not overleap. The carnage was terrible; the contest lasted over half an hour, and resulted in the total defeat of the British, who, with bull-dog ferocity and obstinacy, although foiled in their desperate effort to take the privateer, were unwilling to abandon the enterprise, and were shot and hewn down by scores. Only three of the officers escaped; several of the boats were destroyed, and two of them, after the action, were found alongside the brig, literally filled with the dead and dying!
The boats which survived the conflict, crushed and discomfited, pulled slowly back to their ships, bearing with them many of the wounded. Of the four hundred who left the ships an hour and a half before, full of health, high in spirits, and eager for the battle, hardly one hundred and fifty returned unharmed.
The attack on the boats by Captain Reid and his brave men was so sudden and overwhelming, that the enemy, notwithstanding the convulsive efforts of a few, seemed incapable of making any effective resistance. Instead of being the attacking party, their efforts were mainly confined to ineffectual attempts to defend themselves. Thus, on the part of the Americans, the loss in the two engagements was only two killed and seven wounded. One of those who fell was Mr. Williams, of New York, the second lieutenant. The first and third lieutenants were among the wounded.
Thus, early in the action Captain Reid was deprived of the services of his most efficient officers, but he was equal to the emergency, and his cool and intrepid conduct secured the victory.
On the following morning, soon after daybreak, the Carnation gun-brig was hauled in within point blank gun-shot, and opened a fire on the General Armstrong; but the gallant commander of the privateer, being determined to submit to no other than a superior force, returned the fire with his long twenty-four pounder so effectually, boring the brig through and through at every shot, that she was soon glad to haul off to avoid being sunk at her anchors. Preparations were now making to bring in the frigate; and aware that to prolong the contest would be worse than useless, Captain Reid ordered the brig"s masts to be cut away, a hole blown through her bottom, and with all his men, trunks, chests, and baggage, took to his boats and safely reached the sh.o.r.e. They had not been landed fifteen minutes when the dismasted sinking vessel was boarded by the British boats without resistance, and immediately set on fire. Such was the fate of the General Armstrong privateer!
It is perhaps not strange that, before my shipmates and myself had been a week at the boarding house, around whose attractive sign cl.u.s.tered such patriotic a.s.sociations, Downes, the boatswain of the Casket, and Jones both became acclimated to the noxious atmosphere redolent of alcohol and other disgusting compounds, succ.u.mbed to the temptations by which they were surrounded, and drank as much grog, were as noisy and unruly, and as ready for a quarrel as any dissolute old Irishman in the whole circle of Jim Hubbards" household. Indeed the boatswain, a young fellow possessed of many excellent qualities, and who had made a resolution to reform some bad habits in which he had indulged, got drunk before he had been three days an inmate of the establishment, quarrelled with an English sailor, fought with him, was severely whipped and furnished with a couple of magnificent black eyes. So true is the sentiment, beautifully expressed in the language of the poet,
"Vice is a monster of so frightful mien, As to be hated needs but to be seen; But seen too oft, familiar with the face, We first endure, then pity, then embrace."
The generality of Jim Hubbard"s boarders were what may be technically termed "a hard set." Among them were many foreigners, who seemed to have been the off-scourings of their native countries, and whose manners and morals had not been improved by the peculiar discipline and lessons in ethics they had become familiar with on board English men-of-war or Patriot privateers. In truth they were a band of roistering blades, and by day and by night, when not dead drunk, were restless, noisy, vociferous, and terribly profane. Flush with their money, and acting from generous impulses, they would urge a stranger to drink with them in good fellowship, and if the invitation was declined, were equally ready to knock him down or kick him into the street, as unworthy the society of good fellows.
Whole crews came to the house, from long voyages, with pockets overflowing with cash. They were received with smiles of welcome by Hubbard, and the treasures of his bar were placed before them. At the proper time they were told by their obliging landlord that it was a praiseworthy custom among new comers to "treat all hands." Then commenced a course of unrestrained dissipation, which was not interrupted so long as their money held out. They became uproarious, and took a strange pleasure in enacting scenes, which should never be witnessed out of Bedlam. But as their money diminished their landlord gave them the cold shoulder; their love of frolic and fighting was sensibly lessened, and their spirits at last fell to zero on being told by their sympathizing host, who kept a careful watch over their finances, and kindly aided them in spending their money by making fict.i.tious charges, and exacting double prices for what they actually had, that THEIR CASH WAS ALL GONE; that it was not his custom to give credit, and the sooner they found a ship, and cleared out, the better.
Such, I am sorry to say, was the character of most of the sailor landlords in "days lang syne." And notwithstanding the efforts which have since been made to elevate the condition of the sailor, and provide him with a comfortable house on sh.o.r.e, I greatly fear the race is not extinct; and that Jack, even in these days, often becomes the prey of one of these crafty, plausible, smiling, unprincipled scoundrels, who hands him a bottle of rum with one hand and picks his pocket with the other; who, under the guise of friendship, bears towards the sailor the same kind of affection he is prepared to expect from the man-eating shark which is seen prowling round a ship. If he falls into the clutches of either, he is sure to be taken in and done for.
But among Jim Hubbard"s boarders, there were a very few of a different character from those I have described; some who kept sober, and had a due regard to the rules of propriety. These, sometimes, sought to restore order out of chaos, but soon abandoned the attempt as a bootless task, and bowed submissively to the storm whose force they could not arrest. Among these was a young man named Catlin. He was rather below than above the medium size, but had a broad chest and a muscular frame. He was evidently a thorough sailor; his countenance was open and intelligent; he was quiet and un.o.btrusive in his manners, and often seemed disgusted with the unruly conduct of the major part of the boarders, some of whom had been shipmates with him in a former voyage.
Catlin was troubled with an impediment in his speech, and it was doubtless owing to this, as well as to his sober habits, that his voice was seldom heard amid the vocal din which shook the walls of the General Armstrong.
One morning a large ship arrived in Savannah from Boston, with a choice crew, consisting of the boatswain and ten fine-looking, athletic young men. After the ship was made fast at the wharf, and the decks cleared up, the crew received permission to go ash.o.r.e; and, neatly rigged and headed by the boatswain, a splendid looking, symmetrically built native of Connecticut, who stood six feet two inches in his stockings, and wore a feather in his hat like a Highland chieftain, they paraded through several of the streets of Savannah, singing, laughing, and cheering, bent on a regular frolic. They occasionally stopped at hospitable houses, where "for a consideration" they could be accommodated with liquor to a.s.suage thirst and enliven their already lively spirits.
It was about nine o"clock in the evening when this jovial crew came to Jim Hubbard"s boarding house, entered the public room, and called for something to drink. Some of these men were disposed to be quarrelsome, and were insolent to the landlord; clearly wishing to provoke a fight; and a considerable number of the boarders instantly threw off their jackets, ready to take the part of their host. The parties being nearly equal, there was a very distinct prospect of a neat little row, or a regular pounding match.
Just as the parties were coming to blows the boatswain interposed, requesting his shipmates to keep quiet and close their clamsh.e.l.ls; and then in an arrogant and defiant tone, stretching himself to his full height, he exclaimed, "If there is any fighting to be done here, I am the man to do it." And, with a dash of that spirit of chivalry which animated the Paladins of old, he added, "I challenge any man in the house to step into the street, and face me in a regular boxing match."
His large stature, big whiskers, insolent tone, and menacing gestures were calculated to inspire awe, and those who had shown themselves most eager to take part in the MELEE, shrank instinctively from the idea of meeting this son of Anak in single combat. But Catlin, the meek-looking, quiet, inoffensive, stuttering Catlin, who had been an attentive looker-on without evincing any disposition to take part in the proceedings no sooner heard the challenge, so vain-gloriously given, than he bounded from his seat in a corner of the room, and stood before the doughty champion.
"I ca-ca-ca-nt stand th-th-at," said Catlin, his eyes flashing with indignation. "I am your m-m-man!"
The affair became interesting. A ring was immediately formed in front of the boarding house, into which the champions of the respective parties, denuded of all unnecessary covering, and each attended by his second, entered. The crew of the ship, the boarders of the General Armstrong, and the inmates of various boarding houses in the vicinity, formed quite a numerous body of spectators. The combatants very properly dispensed with the absurd custom of shaking hands before they came to blows. After glowering at each other for a moment, they went vigorously to work. The boatswain seemed determined to demolish his puny antagonist at once by some well-directed blows, and might possibly have succeeded if the blows had taken effect. But Catlin parried or avoided them with surprising skill and agility, until the boatswain losing patience, grasped his antagonist in his sinewy arms, and after a brief struggle, Catlin was thorn heavily upon his back.
He rose from the earth, like a second Antaeus, with renewed vigor, and when the boatswain attempted to repeat the operation, Catlin dealt him a blow in the body which fairly lifted him from his feet, and, doubling him up, dropped him motionless on the ground.
By the aid of his second, the boatswain was soon again on his feet. The fight was renewed, and continued with but little cessation for fifteen or twenty minutes, during which time Catlin had been twice thrown, but had received no visible injury; and the boatswain"s features had been knocked out of all shape, and he had been several times felled to the earth by the terrible blows given by his antagonist. His endurance was wonderful; he submitted to his pounding like a hero, but he was rapidly losing strength; was evidently suffering much from pain, and another round would probably have finished the fierce contest, crowned Catlin with the victor"s wreath, and led to a general tumult and row, when some new actors entered on the scene and changed the order of the performances.
These actors appeared in the guise of a squad of police officers, the city patrol, who had received intelligence of the row. They broke through the ring, without regard to ceremony, and made a dash at the men who were striving so hard to maul one another. The boatswain unable to resist or flee, was easily captured, and also his second. But Catlin, having heard the cry of "the watch! the watch!" as these vigilant preservers of the public peace broke through the ring, gave his antagonist a parting blow which he long remembered, forced his way through or leaped over the dense throng which obstructed his progress, and with the speed of a race horse rushed into the house, and almost before the officers of the law were aware of his escape, he had donned his garments, and without a scratch on his person, mingled unsuspected with the throng of spectators. The boatswain, notwithstanding the woeful plight he was in, for he was dreadfully punished, was marched off to the guard house, accompanied by his faithful second, and on the following day was mulcted in an exemplary fine for disturbing the peace.
The most singular battle between two-legged brutes that I ever beheld, was fought one day between two stout negroes in the neighborhood of my boarding house in Savannah. They had cherished a grudge against each other for some time, and accidentally meeting, a war of words ensued, which attracted a crowd of spectators, who kindly used all possible efforts to induce them to break the peace, in which charitable enterprise they finally succeeded.
Much to my surprise, and greatly to the amus.e.m.e.nt of the bystanders, the darkies made no use of their fists, neither did they grasp each other by the waist, or resort to the worse than savage practice of gouging. They retreated from the spot where they had been standing, until the s.p.a.ce between them would measure some ten or twelve paces, a good duelling distance, and then instead of throwing tomahawks or javelins at each other"s heads, or discharging bullets of lead from the mouths of pistols or blunderbusses, they bowed down their heads, as if overcome with humility, and rushed at each other with inconceivable fury.
Like knights of ancient days, they met half way in the lists; but instead of shivering their spears right manfully, their heads came in contact, like a collision between two locomotives, making a noise like a clap of thunder. As they rose from the ground from which they were both thrown by the violence of the shock, fire seemed actually to flash from their eyes, and they shook their heads from shoulder to shoulder for several seconds, apparently to know if all was right within.
The result being satisfactory, they retreated a short distance, not so far as at first, and again tried the terrible experiment of seeing which head was the hardest. After giving several of these practical ill.u.s.trations of the n.o.ble art of b.u.t.ting, in a fashion that would have cracked, crushed and demolished the thickest craniums belonging to the Caucasian family, but which seemed to produce little effect on these hard-headed sons of sires born on the banks of the Niger, one of the belligerent parties watched an opportunity when his opponent was off his guard, dexterously evaded the favor intended for him, and drove his own head with tremendous force against the bosom of his antagonist.
This of course finished the engagement, for the poor fellow was thrown backwards with violence to the ground, where he remained for some time senseless, while the grinning victor received the congratulations of his friends.
Chapter x.x.xV. VOYAGE TO GOTTENBURG
I pa.s.sed nearly three weeks in Savannah at Jim Hubbard"s boarding house, mingling freely with the different characters who frequented that establishment, making my observations on men and things; and if at times I felt humiliated and uncomfortable, I solaced myself by the reflection that my sojourn in that place would be brief, and in the mean time would open to my inspection a new chapter in the book of life; and being const.i.tutionally of a hopeful disposition, and seldom troubled with despondency, instead of suffering my thoughts to dwell on present perplexities, I looked forward to more prosperous scenes and happier times.
At length I found an opportunity to quit Savannah, of which I shall ever retain a vivid recollection, by shipping before the mast in a good wholesome-looking brig, known as the Joseph, of Boston, and bound to Gottenburg, with a cargo of tobacco.
The name of the brig was not a very attractive one, but I had learned long before that the names of merchant vessels, being bestowed according to the taste, fancy, or whim of the owner, should never be regarded as indicative of character, any more than the names of individuals. The first vessel I sailed in, although named after the most beautiful and swift fish that swims the ocean, the dolphin, was one of the ugliest and dullest sailing crafts that ever floated on salt water.
Some ship-owners have a great partiality to animals; hence we find n.o.ble ships bearing the names of creatures of every description, from the most ferocious beast to the most unsightly reptile. Other ships carry on their sterns the names of heroes and heroines, G.o.ds and G.o.ddesses; satyrs, nymphs, civilians, poets, artists, statesmen, and demagogues; of kings, warriors, buccaneers, philanthropists, and brigands. It is thus we count among our ships a Hercules and a Joan of Arc; with Apollos, Minervas, Canovas, Hogarths, John Howards, and Robin Hoods, with a dense sprinkling of Mammoths and Mosquitoes, Tigers and Humming Birds, Whales and b.u.t.terflies, Nondescripts, Demons, volcanoes and Icebergs.
Some names of ships are ingenious and quaint, others commonplace or ridiculous; some are expressed in a phrase consisting of a few words, others in a word of one syllable, and sometimes of one letter. Thus we have the INO, and the GUESS; awkward names to repeat when asked, "What is the name of that ship?" and the "Catch me if you can," and the "What d"ye think "tis like?" which, by their respective G.o.dfathers, are thought to be extremely witty. Thus, we have the "Ay, ay, sir," the "Tom," the "A No. 1," the "Tallyho," and the "W."
During the last war with Great Britain two privateers were built by the same individuals, and were intended to cruise in company; they were called the "United we stand," and the "Divided we fall." A number of years since, three large and elegant ships const.i.tuted a line of English packets between Liverpool and Charleston, in South Carolina. They were, with commendable taste, named after three celebrated poems by three distinguished British poets, the "Lalla Rookh," the "Corsair," and "Marmion." An opulent merchant in Rhode Island, having been repeatedly disappointed in his wish to have a male descendant, although he was the father of half a dozen cherry-cheeked GIRLS, gave the name of "Boy" to a ship of his, which was launched a few weeks after the birth of his youngest daughter. This ship was a fortunate one, and a great favorite of the owner, but never arrived at man"s estate, continuing "a boy" to the end of the chapter.
Some ship-owners give to their vessels names of individuals distinguished for talent or worth, or who have served their country n.o.bly by sea or by land. Some bestow on their ships those names that are dearest to them; those of their sweethearts, their wives, their children, brethren, sisters, or friends, as the case may be. Thus we have the "Three sons," "Ten Brothers," "Four Sisters," "Sally Anne,"
"Aunt Hitty," and "Huldah and Judy;" and thus we may account for the euphonious name of a vessel, once belonging to Windsor, in Virginia, the "Jonathan Jac.o.c.ks."
Some years ago two Boston merchants were engaged in building a ship for the freighting business. When finished, there was a difference of opinion in regard to the selection of a name. One proposed the name of a distinguished southern statesman, Mr. Poinsett; the other, an old shipmaster, remonstrated against giving the ship the name of any living person; and he carried his point. "The man you mention," said he, with energy and emphasis, "is a good fellow enough now; but before two years, he may change his politics, or do some other shabby act that will stamp his name with infamy. And then how foolish we shall look when hailing our ship. No! Never while you live, call your ship, or your child, after any living great man; but take the name of some one whose excellence is vouched for by a tombstone."
A line of packet ships was projected, and in part established some thirty-five years ago, between Boston and Liverpool, by some public-spirited merchants. The project, however, after a time was abandoned. Three new and beautiful ships were built for this enterprise, and plied regularly between the two ports; they were named the Emerald, the Topaz, and the Amethyst. If the undertaking had been successful, other ships would have been added with names of a similar stamp, as the Diamond, the Ruby, the Coral, or the Pearl.
The government of the United States has, for many years, adopted the plan of naming ships-of-the-line after the different states in the Union, the frigates after the rivers, and the sloops of war after the princ.i.p.al cities; thus we have the Vermont, Ohio, Pennsylvania, etc., the Brandywine, Raritan, Merrimac, etc., and the Jamestown, Portsmouth, Hartford, etc. As no more ships-of-the-line will probably be constructed, comparatively few of the states will receive the honor originally intended.
The introduction of large clipper built ships, within a few years, has been attended with a new and distinct cla.s.s of names, some of which are of a decidedly poetical character, and fill the largest speaking trumpet to its utmost capacity; thus the ocean is traversed in every direction by "Winged Racers," "Flying Arrows," "Sparkling Seas," "Shooting Stars,"
"Foaming Waves," "White Squalls," "Sovereigns of the Seas," and "Thunder Showers;" and we may soon see launched the "Almighty Dollar."
The brig Joseph was commanded by Ezra Allen, a very worthy, well-meaning man, of moderate capacity, and an indifferent sailor. The mate, Mr.
Bowen, was an energetic, down-east Yankee, with a drawl as long as the deep sea line, and almost as much twisted. He was one of those queer mortals, manufactured nowhere but in New England, who, restless, inquisitive, ingenious, and bold, can readily adapt themselves to any situation, and, under a very raw and green exterior, conceal an inexhaustible mine of practical good sense and available intelligence on almost every subject. Mr. Bowen, although deferential in his deportment towards the captain, and ever treating him with a good show of respect, was in reality master of the brig; his advice being solicited on the most trivial occasion, and every suggestion he made in relation to the management of the vessel was eagerly seized upon by the captain. Indeed, Bowen was a model of a mate; industrious, economical, and faithful, treating the crew with kindness and consideration, yet exacting their full quota of labor. No "bread of idleness" was consumed where he had the direction of affairs. Under his management there was perfect subordination, without the necessity of resorting to heavers and handspikes as a means of enforcing authority.
The second mate, Mr. Conners, was a little, weasel-faced man, of uncertain extraction, who had a great idea of his importance, and like other mates I have seen, bustled about the decks, as if to make up in noise and bustle deficiencies in merit; forgetting that a quiet, decided, straightforward manner is more effective in enforcing authority, and establishing discipline, than the roughest language breathed through iron lungs. We had but a brief opportunity to test his worth, for, on the second day after leaving port, Mr. Conners was attacked with illness, stricken down and confined to his state-room, where he lay, suffering much pain, and uttering moans of a character not unfamiliar to my ears. The chief mate came on deck while I was at the helm, and in answer to my inquiries, gave me the particulars of his illness.
"Mr. Bowen," said I, "that man has got the yellow fever, and it is a severe case. It will probably go hard with him."
"Do you think so, Hawser?" Said Mr. Bowen, slowly drawling out his words; "well, I don"t know but you are more than half right. There have been some deaths from yellow fever in Savannah already this season, and who knows but" and turning to the captain, who at this moment came on deck, carelessly handling his toothpick, he exclaimed, "Captain Allen, Mr.
Conners has got the yellow fever!"
The captain started back, aghast, at this terrible announcement. His face was as white as a sheet. "The yellow fever, Mr. Bowen! G.o.d forbid!
What makes you think so?"
"Why," replied the mate, "the symptoms are precisely those of yellow fever; and you know there were some fatal cases among the shipping before we left Savannah."
"That"s true, Mr. Bowen true as a book. Perhaps it IS the yellow fever.
O Lord! The yellow fever on board the Joseph! What SHALL we do, Mr.
Bowen? Had we not better put back? Who knows whose turn it may be next?