Read Ebook: Decatur and Somers by Seawell Molly Elliot Davidson Julian Oliver Illustrator Gibbs George Illustrator Schell Frank Cresson Illustrator Smith W Granville Walter Granville Illustrator

Font size: 10 px 15 px 20 px 25 px 30 px 35 px

Background color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Text color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Apply/Save settings

Ebook has 710 lines and 45442 words, and 15 pages

"Then Somers shall be master's mate of the hold," said the commodore, decisively.

Next day Somers was sent for to the cabin and informed of the commodore's choice. He merely said: "Thank you, sir; I shall do my best." But Commodore Barry felt well assured that Somers's "best" was a good "best."

Somers went down to the midshipmen's dinner that day, and said nothing of his appointment. Each of the reefers was eager to get the place of trust, and they began talking of it. Somers wished to tell them of his good fortune, but a kind of bashfulness restrained him. He turned red, though, and became more silent than usual. Decatur, who sat next him, looked keenly at him.

"Somers, something is up, I see; and I believe--I believe you are going to be master's mate," he said.

Decatur, with one stretch of his powerful arm, raised his chum up standing.

Somers always submitted to this sort of horse-play from Decatur without the slightest resistance, and the effect was very comical. Decatur, after shaking him vigorously, plumped him back in his chair, when Somers calmly resumed his dinner as if nothing had occurred.

Somers laid down his knife and fork, folded his arms and reflected for a few moments, and finally answered:

"This is what I should do, Mr. Bainbridge: I should immediately order the other topmast studding sail to be set, if she'd draw, with a view to increase the speed of the ship."

A roar of laughter succeeded this, which was repressed by Bainbridge sternly rapping for order.

"Gentlemen, this is not the undignified cabin or the disorderly wardroom. This--please remember--is the model mess of the ship, the steerage mess, and order must be preserved, if I have to lick every one of you to get it."

"Spence," said Decatur, holding out his plate and trembling violently, "G-give me some of that salt horse. It may be the l-l-last time, dear Spence, that we shall ever eat salt horse together. When the discipline of this ship is so relaxed that Somers, who doesn't know a marlin-spike from the mainmast, is promoted, it's time we were all making our wills. Our time is short, Spence; so give me a good helping, old man."

"I know more seamanship than all of you lubbers put together," quietly remarked Somers, going on with his dinner.

"Hear! hear!" cried Bainbridge. "Mr. Somers, you are facetious to-day."

Decatur, at this, got up and went to the nook that he and Somers occupied together. He came back with a black bottle labeled "Cherry bounce."

"Gentlemen," said he, "Mr. Somers feels so acutely your kind expressions of confidence in him, that he begs you will drink his health in this bottle of cherry bounce which he has been saving up for this auspicious occasion."

Somers said nothing as his cherry bounce was liberally distributed, leaving only a very small glass of the dregs and heel-taps for himself; and his good nature under so much chaff made the reefers more jolly than ever. His health, with many pious wishes that he might learn to know a handy-billy when he saw it, was drunk with all honors; and as a great favor he was permitted to drink his one small glass in peace. In the midst of the jollity a commotion was heard overhead, and the cry of "Sail, ho!" In another moment every midshipman made a dash for the gangway and ran on deck.

The excitement on the ships was intense. Several of the more active officers clambered up the shrouds, while the rigging was full of men eager to make out the advancing ship, which was coming along at a good gait; and all were eager to know what colors the commodore would show.

"Mr. Ross," said Commodore Barry, turning to his first lieutenant, "we will show French colors; if he is a 'Mounseer,' it will encourage him to make our acquaintance."

The quartermaster, Danny Dixon, a handsome, fresh-faced sailor of middle age, who had served under the immortal Paul Jones, quickly produced French colors, and amid breathless silence he ran them up.

The stranger was now not more than a mile distant. She had worn no colors, but on seeing French colors run up at the American frigate's peak, in another moment she too displayed the tricolored flag of France.

At that an involuntary cheer broke from the gallant fellows on "Old Wagoner." Decatur, behind the commodore's back, deliberately turned a double handspring, while even the dignified Somers executed a slight pirouette.

As for the men, they dropped down upon the deck like magic, and every man ran to his station. Commodore Barry straightened himself up, and the old fire of battle, that had slumbered since the glorious days of the Revolution, shone in his eyes under his shaggy brows.

"Mr. Ross," said he, turning to his first lieutenant, "we are in good luck--in excellent good luck, sir. Signal to the Delaware to keep off. I think the officers and men of this ship would feel hurt if we should mar the beauty of the game we are about to play by having odds in our favor; and call the men to quarters without the tap of the drum. The first man who cheers until we have hailed will be sent below, to remain until after the engagement. I desire to come to close quarters, without telling any more about ourselves than our friend the enemy can find out."

In the midst of a dead silence the signal was made to the Delaware. Only Decatur whispered to Somers, whose station was next his:

"Poor old dad! He'd give all his old boots if he could have a share in the scrimmage."

The Delaware then hauled off, making a short tack, and going no farther away than she could help. The strange frigate, whose trim and ship-shape appearance grew plainer at every moment, was now nearly within hail. The American, preparing to bear up and run off as a preliminary to the action, the first lieutenant, under the commander's eye, stood near the wheel, while Danny Dixon took the spokes.

In the midst of the breathless silence, while the strange frigate continued to advance, shortening sail meanwhile, and with her men at quarters and her batteries lighted up, Mr. Ross, watching the trim of "Old Wagoner's" sails, sung out:

"Give her a good full, quartermaster!"

"A good full, sir," answered old Danny steadily, and expecting the next order to be "Hard aport!"

But at that moment Commander Barry dashed his glass down with an impatient exclamation. "We are truly unfortunate, gentlemen. She is English. Look at her marines!"

At the same instant the stranger, discovering the American's character, quickly hauled down her French colors and showed the union jack. A loud groan burst from the American sailors, who saw all their hopes of glory and prize money vanish; and it was answered by a corresponding groan from the British tars, who felt a similar disappointment, having taken the American to be a Frenchman.

Commodore Barry then ordered her to be hailed, and the first lieutenant called through the trumpet: "This is the American frigate United States, forty guns, Commodore Barry. Who are you?"

"This is His Britannic Majesty's ship Thetis, fifty guns, Captain Langley."

Both ships were on the same tack and going at about the same speed, about half a mile apart. Commodore Barry then hailed again, asking if the English captain had any news of two crack French frigates--L'Insurgente and La Vengeance--that were supposed to be cruising in that station. No answer was returned to this, although it was called out twice. This vexed Commodore Barry, as it did every officer and man aboard.

"Wot a pity," growled Danny Dixon, the quartermaster, to his mates, "that somebody hadn't 'a' axerdentally--jist axerdentally, you know--pulled a lockstring and fired one o' them starboard guns! The Britishers ain't the sort to refuse a fight; they would 'a' fired back cocksure, and we could 'a' had a friendly tussle and found out which were the best ship, and then it could 'a' been fixed up arterwards--'cause 'twould 'a' been all a axerdent, you know."

This was agreed with by all of Danny's messmates, as they left their stations and gathered forward. The two ships were now abreast of each other, and the distance between them was being quickly decreased by Commodore Barry's orders, who himself took the deck. They were not more than two cables' lengths apart. The English frigate, which had taken in considerable of her canvas, now took in her royals. The American ship followed suit, so that in a little while both ships had come down to a five-knot gait, although there was a good breeze blowing. They were near enough to hear conversation and laughter on the English ship, and the men gathered on the fok'sl of the Thetis called out loudly to each other, as if to emphasize the rudeness of not returning the hails of the American ship. In the midst of a perfect silence on the United States, which was soon followed on the Thetis, Danny Dixon, who had a stentorian voice, swung himself in the forechains and began to sing as loud as he could bawl:

"Boney is a great man, A soldier brave and true, But the British they can lick him, On land and water, too!"

This produced a roaring cheer from the British. The Americans, who knew what was coming next, waited, grinning broadly until the laugh should be on their side. The men gathered on the Thetis's port side, and the officers hung over the rail to catch the next verse. As soon as the cheering was over, Danny fairly shouted, in a voice that could be heard a mile:

"But greater still, and braver far, And tougher than shoe leather, Was Washington, the man wot could Have licked 'em both together!"

At this "Old Wagoner's" deck fairly shook with the thunders of cheers from the Americans, the midshipmen joining in with leather lungs, the grave Somers yelling like a wild Indian, while Decatur executed a war-dance of triumph.

The Thetis, as if disgusted with the turn of affairs, set her royals and all her studding sails, and began to leg it at a lively pace. "Old Wagoner" followed her example, and the men sprang into the rigging and set exactly the same sails. But they found within five minutes that the American could sail better, both on and off the wind, as she followed the Thetis in her tacks. The Thetis then, keeping her luff, furled sail on the mizzen and took in royals and studding sails. The American did precisely the same thing, and, as she still sailed faster, an old sail containing kentledge was ostentatiously hung astern and acted as a drag, keeping the two ships together.

"Now's the time for carrying all hard sail!" and in five minutes "Old Wagoner" seemed literally to burst into one great white cloud of canvas from truck to rail. Everything that would draw was set; and the breeze, which was every moment growing stronger, carried her along at a perfectly terrific pace. She shot past the Thetis, her gigantic spread of canvas eating the wind out of the Englishman's sails and throwing them aback, and as she flew by another roaring cheer went up from the Americans.

The fun, however, was not over yet. Having got well in advance of the Thetis, "Old Wagoner" bore up, and, hauling her wind, dashed directly across the forefoot of the English ship as the Englishman came slowly on.

All the cheering that had preceded was as nothing when this neat manoeuvre was accomplished. The old Commodore, giving the trumpet back to the officer of the deck, was greeted with three cheers and a tiger, and every officer and man on board gloried in the splendid qualities of the ship and her gallant old commander.

The brilliant visions of the midshipmen of yardarm-and-yardarm fights with French frigates, with promotion, and prize money galore, failed to materialize, although they had several sharp encounters with fleet French privateers that infested the waters of the French West Indies. With them it was a trial of seamanship, because, if ever a privateer got under the guns of "Old Wagoner," small was her chance of escape. But the American proved to be a first-class sailer, and nothing that she chased got away from her. Several privateers were captured, but the midshipmen groaned in spirit over the absence of anything like a stand-up fight.

It did not seem likely that they would make a port for some time to come. Early in February, cruising to windward of Martinique, they ran across the French privateer Tartuffe--and Tartuffe she proved. She was a beautiful little brigantine, with six shining brass guns, and her captain evidently thought she could take care of herself; for when the United States gave chase and fired a gun from her bow-chasers, the saucy little privateer fired a gun back and took to her heels.

It was on a bright February afternoon that the chase began. The midshipmen, elated by their triumph in sailing with the great English frigate, thought it would be but child's play to overhaul the Frenchman. But they had counted without their host, and they had no fool to play with. In vain did "Old Wagoner" crowd on sail; the Tartuffe managed to keep just out of gunshot. All the afternoon the exciting chase continued, and when night fell a splendid moon rose which made the sea almost as light as day. Both ships set every stitch of canvas that would draw, and at daybreak it was found that the frigate had in all those hours gained only a mile or two on the brigantine. However, that was enough to bring her within range of "Old Wagoner's" batteries. The American then fired another gun as a signal for the Frenchman to haul down his colors. But, to their surprise, the Tartuffe went directly about, her yards flying round like a windmill, and her captain endeavored to run directly under the broadside of the United States before the heavier frigate could come about. One well-directed shot between wind and water stopped the Frenchman's bold manoeuvre. She began at once to fill and settle, and her ensign was hauled down.

Commodore Barry, on seeing this, cried out:

"Lower away the first cutter!" and Decatur, being the officer in charge of that boat, dropped into her stern sheets and pulled for the Frenchman. Commodore Barry, leaning over the side, called out, laughing, to Decatur:

"I wish you to treat the Frenchman as if he were the captain of a forty-four-gun frigate coming aboard to surrender her. He has made a gallant run."

Decatur, bearing this in mind, put off for the brigantine. The sun was just rising in glory, and as he saw, in the clearness of the day, the plight of the pretty brigantine, he felt an acute pity. Her company of sixty men crowded to the rail, while her captain stood on the bridge, giving his orders as coolly as if his ship were coming to anchor in a friendly port. Decatur, seeing that his boat would be swamped if he came near enough for the men to jump in, called out to the captain, saluting him meanwhile, and asking if he would come off in one of the brigantine's boats, while the Tartuffe's helm could be put up, as she was still able to get alongside the United States, and her people could be transferred.

Share on: WhatsApp @Hash Facebook Tweet