Captain Barry, finding these water-hounds sharp on his track, ran for Christiana Creek, hoping to get into shallow water where the heavy British ships could not follow. But the frigate was too fast, and chased him so closely that the best he could do was to run the schooner ash.o.r.e and escape in his boats.
But he was determined that they should not have the _Alert_ if he could help it. Turning two of the guns downward, he fired through the ship"s bottom, and in a minute the water was pouring into her hold.
The frigate swung round and fired a broadside at the fleeing boats; but all it brought back was a cheer of defiance from the sailors, as they struck the land and sprang ash.o.r.e. Here they had the satisfaction of seeing the schooner sink before a British foot could be set on her deck.
The war vessels now went for the transports at Port Penn. Here a battery had been built on sh.o.r.e, made of bales of hay. This was attacked by the sloop-of-war, but the American sharpshooters made things lively for her.
They might have beaten her off had not their captain fallen with a mortal wound. The men now lost heart and fled to the woods, first setting fire to the vessels.
Thus ended Barry"s brave exploit. He had lost his vessels, but the British had not got them. The Americans were proud of his daring deed, and the British tried to win so brave a man to their side. Sir William Howe offered him twenty thousand pounds in money and the command of a British frigate if he would desert his flag. But he was not dealing now with a Benedict Arnold.
"Not if you pay me the price and give me the command of the whole British fleet can you draw me away from the cause of my country," wrote the patriotic sailor.
Barry was soon rewarded for his patriotism by being made captain of an American frigate, the _Raleigh_. But ill-luck now followed him. He sailed from Boston on September 25, 1778, and three days afterward he had lost his ship and was a wanderer with his crew in the vast forests of Maine.
Let us see how this ill-fortune came about. The _Raleigh_ had not got far from port before two sails came in sight. Barry ran down to look at them, and found they were two English frigates. Two to one was too great odds, and the _Raleigh_ turned her head homewards again. But when night shut out the frigates she wore round and started once more on her former course.
The next day opened up foggy, and till noon nothing was to be seen. Then the fog lifted, and to Barry"s surprise there were the British ships, just south of his own. Now for three hours it was a hot chase, and then down came another fog and the game was once more at an end.
But the _Raleigh_ could not shake off the British bull-dogs. At about nine o"clock the next morning they came in sight again and the chase was renewed. It was kept up till late in the day. At first the _Raleigh_ went so fast that her pursuers dropped out of sight. Then the wind failed her, and the British ships came up with a strong breeze.
At five o"clock the fastest British frigate was close at hand, and Barry thought he would try what she was good for before the other came up.
In a few minutes more the two ships were hurling iron b.a.l.l.s into each other"s sides, while the smoke of the conflict filled the skies. Then the fore-topmast and mizzen-topgallantmast of the _Raleigh_ were shot away, leaving her in a crippled state.
The British ship had now much the best of it. Barry tried his best to reach and board her, but she sailed too fast. And up from the south came the other ship, at swift speed. To fight them both with a crippled craft would have been madness, and, as he could not get away, Barry decided to run his ship ash.o.r.e on the coast of Maine, which was close at hand.
Night soon fell, and with it fell the wind. Till midnight the two ships drifted along, with red fire spurting from their sides and the thunder of cannon echoing from the hills.
In the end the _Raleigh_ ran ash.o.r.e on an island near the coast. Here Barry fought for some time longer, and then set his ship on fire and went ash.o.r.e with his men. But the British were quickly on board, put out the fire, and carried off their prize. Barry and his men made their way through the Maine woods till the settlements were reached.
In 1781 Captain Barry was sent across the ocean in the _Alliance_, a vessel which had taken part in the famous battle of the _Bon Homme Richard_ and the _Serapis_. Here the gallant fellow fought one of his best battles, this time also against two British ships.
When he came upon them there was not a breath of wind. All sail was set, but the canvas flapped against the yards, and the vessel lay
"As idle as a painted ship upon a painted ocean."
The British vessels were a brig and a sloop-of-war. They wanted to fight as badly as did Captain Barry, and, as they could not sail, they got out sweeps and rowed up to the American frigate. It was weary work, and it took them six hours to do it.
Then came the hails of the captains and the roar of cannon, and soon there was a very pretty fight, with the _Alliance_ in a dangerous situation. She was too heavy to be moved with sweeps, like the light British vessels, so they got on her quarters and poured in broadsides, while she could reply only with a few guns.
Barry raged like a wild bull, bidding his men fight, and begging for a wind. As he did so, a grape-shot struck him in the shoulder and felled him to the deck. As he was carried below, a shot carried away the American flag. A l.u.s.ty cheer came from the British ships; they thought the flag down and the victory theirs. They soon saw it flying again.
But the _Alliance_ was in sore straits. She was getting far more than she could give, and had done little harm to her foes. At length a lieutenant came down to the wounded captain.
"We cannot handle the ship and are being cut to pieces," he said. "The rigging is in tatters and the fore-topmast in danger, and the carpenter reports two serious leaks. Eight or ten of our people are killed and more wounded. The case seems hopeless, sir; shall we strike the colors?"
"No!" roared Barry, sitting bolt upright. "Not on your life! If the ship can"t be fought without me, then carry me on deck."
The lieutenant went up and reported, and the story soon got to the men.
"Good for Captain Barry," they shouted. "We"ll stand by the old man."
A minute later a change came. A ripple of water was seen. Soon a breeze rose, the sails filled out, and the _Alliance_ slipped forward and yielded to her helm.
This was what the brave Barry had been waiting for. It was not a case of whistling for a wind, as sailors often do, but of hoping and praying for a wind. It came just in time to save the _Alliance_ from lowering her proud flag, or from going to the bottom with it still flying, as would have suited her bold captain the better.
Now she was able to give her foes broadside for broadside, and you may be sure that her gunners, who had been like dogs wild to get at the game, now poured in shot so fast and furious that they soon drove the foe in terror from his guns. In a short time, just as Captain Barry was brought on deck with his wound dressed, their flags came down.
The prizes proved to be the _Atlanta_ and the _Trepa.s.sy_. That fight was near the last in the war. At a later date Captain Barry had the honor of carrying General Lafayette home to France in his ship.
CHAPTER VIII
CAPTAIN TUCKER HONORED BY GEORGE WASHINGTON
THE DARING ADVENTURES OF THE HERO OF MARBLEHEAD
CAPTAIN SAMUEL TUCKER was a Yankee boy who began his career by running away from home and shipping as a cabin-boy on the British sloop-of-war _Royal George_. It was a good school for a seaman, and when his time was up he knew his business well.
There was no war then, and he shipped as second-mate on a merchant vessel sailing from Salem. Here he soon had a taste of warlike life and showed what kind of stuff was in him. The Mediterranean Sea in those days was infested by pirates sailing from the Moorish ports. It was the work of these to capture merchant ships, take them into port, and sell their crews as slaves.
On Tucker"s first voyage from Salem two of these piratical craft, swift corsairs from Algiers, came in sight and began a chase of the merchantman.
What could be done? There was no hope to run away from those fleet-footed sea-hounds. There was no hope to beat them off in a fight.
The men were in a panic and the captain sought courage in rum, and was soon too drunk to handle his ship.
Tucker came to the rescue. Taking the helm, he put it hard down and headed straight for the pirates. It looked as if he was sailing straight for destruction, but he knew what he was about. The Yankee schooner, if it could not sail as fast, could be handled more easily than the Algerines, with their lateen sails; and by skilful steering he got her into such a position that the pirates could not fire into him without hurting one another.
Try as they would, Mate Tucker kept his vessel in this position, and held her there until the shades of night fell. Then he slipped away, and by daylight was safe in port. You may see from this that Samuel Tucker was a bold and a smart man and an able seaman.
After that he was at one time an officer in the British navy and at another a merchant captain. He was in London when the Revolution began.
His courage and skill were so well known that he was offered a commission in either the army or the navy, if he was willing to serve "his gracious Majesty."
Tucker forgot where he was, and rudely replied, "Hang his gracious Majesty! Do you think I am the sort of man to fight against my country?"
Those were rash words to be spoken in London. A charge of treason was brought against him and he had to seek safety in flight. For a time he hid in the house of a country inn-keeper who was his friend. Then a chance came to get on shipboard and escape from the country. In this way he got back to his native land.
It was not only the English who knew Captain Tucker"s ability. He was known in America as well. No doubt there were many who had heard how he had served the pirate Moors. He had not long been home when General Washington sent him a commission as captain of the ship _Franklin_, and ordered him to get to sea at once.
The messenger with the commission made his way to the straggling old town of Marblehead, where Tucker lived. Inquiring for him in the town, he was directed to a certain house.
Reaching this, the messenger saw a roughly-dressed and weather-beaten person working in the yard, with an old tarpaulin hat on his head and a red bandanna handkerchief tied loosely round his neck.
The man, thinking him an ordinary laborer, called out from his horse: