Commodore Barney's Young Spies: A Boy's Story of the Burning of the City of WashingtonOtis, James
History
Commodore Barney's Young Spies: A Boy's Story of the Burning of the City of Washington
Otis, James
Washington (D.C.) -- History -- Capture by the British, 1814 -- Juvenile fiction
Then it was I saw that we had passed three of the ships, having come
to grief on the last in the line, and had no time to take further note
of the surroundings when the guns of all four craft belched forth with
a mighty roar that caused the pungy to tremble, but the impact of the
shot did not follow.
Thus suddenly aroused, and in the intense darkness which had been
dispelled only long enough to dazzle a fellow's eyes, the gunners had
not been able to take accurate aim, otherwise we must have gone to the
bottom like a stone.
"They won't have time to try that game more than once again before
we'll be well out of their way," I heard Darius say, and I knew we
had sufficient speed to render useless the work of towing, otherwise
the two sailors would not have come aboard.
Now three rockets were sent up in rapid succession, and while the
light lasted I knew that the British gunners were taking aim at us;
but we had slipped so far down the river by this time that there were
some few chances in our favor, however closely they might shoot.
"Down on your faces!" Darius cried, and I dropped like a stone,
understanding that such an order had been given to lessen the chances
of our being hit; but at the same time the thought came to me that it
was better to be killed by a round-shot which would cut a man's life
short instantly, than mangled by a splinter.
Then came the flash of burning powder; the mighty roar of big guns;
the hurtling shot striking the water on every side, and the pungy
reeled and quivered as if she had struck a rock.
"One ball went home that time!" Darius cried, and I knew by the sound
that he had leaped to his feet, running with all speed into the cuddy.
From below I made out the tiny gleam of the match as Darius lighted a
lantern, and did not need to be told that he was gone to learn what
injury our vessel had received.
Immediately the cannon had been discharged Captain Hanaford was on
his feet, grasping the tiller as if it was possible to steer the pungy
while the blackness continued so dense that one might fancy he could
feel it, and then came the glare of more rockets.
This aided the helmsman of ours more than it did the British gunners,
since it gave him an opportunity to see exactly where his vessel was;
but as to that I gave no heed. All my mind was centered on the
distance between us and the enemy.
I could have cried aloud with joy, and am not certain but that I did,
on seeing that we were drawing away with more speed than I had
believed was in the clumsy craft, and, what was of greater importance,
the pungy was rounding a bend which, once passed, would put us beyond
reach of the guns.
The rockets had been fired just in the nick of time, otherwise we
would have gone ashore on the western bank.
For the third time we heard the thunder of the guns; but the shot must
have passed astern of us, for I did not hear either the splashing of
water or the splintering of our wood-work to tell where they struck.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account