With Porter in the Essex: A Story of His Famous Cruise in the Southern Waters During the War of 1812 — John Shaqi
With Porter in the Essex: A Story of His Famous Cruise in the Southern Waters During the War of 1812Otis, James
History
With Porter in the Essex: A Story of His Famous Cruise in the Southern Waters During the War of 1812
Otis, James
United States -- History -- War of 1812 -- Juvenile fiction
The boats from the _Essex_ were making rapid way over the water, the
spray from their bows glittering in the sunlight like diamonds, and the
enemy now turned his attention from us ahead to those who were so
rapidly overhauling him from astern.
A full broadside was fired at the boarders, but the heavy shot passed
over their heads without doing any damage, and we in advance added our
shouts of joy to those of the boarding party.
The Britishers must have turned cowardly as they saw our men coming
toward them without heed to their fire, and in another instant we were
yelling at the full strength of our lungs, as the English flag was
hauled down in token of surrender.
"The 'luck of the _Essex_' still holds good," Master Hackett cried
gleefully. "Yonder ship will show well among our fleet, an' it's a pity
we can't give her a crew of decent size."
The boats which we had been trying to drive in were now called
alongside, and our people were coming hand over hand to take possession,
when a breeze from the eastward sprang up like a squall, filling the
sails of the prize in an instant.
Before I was well aware of what had happened the Britisher was hauled up
close on the wind. Her colors were hoisted again, and off she went to
the northward like a flash, leaving the boarding party astern as if
their craft had been anchored.
Just for an instant I believed the enemy would succeed in running down
those of us who were in the gig and whale-boat. She came up until we
were close under her forefoot; but the helmsman could not bring her
nearer, and we swept astern like a flash.
It was well for us that she came so close, otherwise we might have been
knocked to flinders, for no less than six charges of grape were fired
point-blank at our boats; but the missiles passed over our heads, and,
instead of congratulating themselves upon the escape from instant death,
the men grumbled long and loud because we had lost the first ship which
by rights should have been made a prize.
"If that 'ere squall had held off five minutes longer, we'd have been in
possession," Master Hackett said in a tone so sorrowful that one could
well believe the tears were very near his eyelids.
To Phil and me it was most singular, this seeing one ship filling away
with all the wind she needed, and another, our frigate, lying no more
than four miles distant with not breeze enough to lift the vane at her
masthead.
The only thing which prevented our men from having a desperate fit of
the sulks was the belief that when the _Essex_ did get the wind she
would make chase; but as the hours wore on we understood that the
Britisher was really lost to us, for this time at least.
It was near to nine o'clock in the evening before the last of our boats
was hoisted inboard, and, owing to the darkness which hid the enemy from
view, it was useless to think of making sail.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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