Read Commodore Barney's Young Spies Page 2


  CHAPTER I.

  CAPTAIN JOSHUA BARNEY.

  It is two years since what we called the "War of 1812" came to an end,and I, Amos Grout, once owner of the oyster pungy, Avenger, propose toset down here that which happened to my friend, Jeremiah Sackett, andmyself, during the year of grace, 1814, when, so others have said, wedid good work for our country, although at the time neither of us wasmore than fifteen years old.

  This I do for two reasons, first because I am proud of what we twolads succeeded in doing, and hope that at some day, when, mayhap, bothJerry and I are dead, other boys may read of the part we played, andbe encouraged thereby to work out their own plans for the good.

  Secondly, because I would have it known that through a scheme of his,two boys, living on the shore of Chesapeake bay, succeeded in doingwhat experienced men might have failed at, and I am eager to haveothers realize my friend's worth.

  So much for the reason as to why I, a seventeen-year boy, with nonetoo many advantages in the way of book education, am thus attemptingto write a tale for others, and now, that whoever should chance toread this may feel acquainted with us, it is for me to introduce myfriend and myself in regular story-telling shape.

  We lads lived in Benedict, Charles County, Maryland, near the mouth ofIndian Creek, when the war broke out, and while many of the people ofour town were not pleased with the idea of fighting the Britishersagain simply to establish the rights of our American seamen, Jerry andI were hot in favor of it, for, in 1810, my friend's brother Tom wastaken by the king's officers out of his vessel while she was off thecapes, on the false ground that he was born in England. The poorfellow was forced to serve in the English navy three years, leading adog's life, as can well be imagined, since he would never say that hewas willing to serve his majesty to the best of his ability.

  Therefore it was that when we invested our savings in a smallsloop-rigged pungy, with the idea of making a living by fishing, wenamed her the Avenger, with never a thought that she might one day dosomething toward avenging poor Tom's wrongs.

  Jerry's parents and mine were poor people, who could not afford togive their sons what so many fortunate lads have--a good education,fine clothes and money to spend. We were obliged to do all we could toaid our families, and had been wage-earners since our tenth birthday.

  It would be too long a story if I should attempt to set down all thatmy friend and I did by way of gathering up money enough to payNicholas Trundy one hundred dollars for his pungy, which was thengoing on six years old. It was a big lot of money for two lads tosave, after contributing to the support of their families, and we werenear to four years doing it.

  It was a proud day for us when the little vessel became our property,and we painted out the name "Handsome Susan," to put in its place inbig red letters, "The Avenger."

  She was about twenty-four feet long, with a cuddy in which were foursmall bunks, and had been in the oyster business since being launched,as we intended she should remain there.

  We bought her early in the spring of 1812, when the people weretalking strongly for or against war; but it never entered our mindsthat we might get mixed up in the fighting, for who could ever havedreamed that the Britishers would come to Benedict? It was enough tosatisfy us that the oyster business was fairly good, and that we couldoften earn, with the pungy, as high as three dollars a day, notcounting the time occupied in running up to Annapolis or Baltimore.

  During the second year of the war we did not do as well; but there isno good reason why I should go into all the details of what would notbe entertaining save to an oysterman. It is enough if I jump over tothe spring of 1814, when we made a trade with an old sailor by name ofDarius Thorpe, whereby he was to sail with us for one-third of theprofits after all expenses had been paid, and this bargain was a goodone for us lads, since he was a master-hand at dredging, being able towork all around either Jerry or me.

  Besides being an expert fisherman, old Darius was an artist atstory-telling, and there was hardly an evening during the first twomonths he was with us, when we did not sit in the cuddy long after weshould have been asleep, listening to the old man's yarns.

  Then, as everybody knows, about April, Captain Joshua Barney wasordered to fit up a fleet of small boats to protect the towns of thebay, for by this time we were having mighty good proof that the UnitedStates was at war with England, and it stands to reason that we ladswere eager to know all that was possible concerning this officer, whohad been the most successful of the privateers sailing out ofBaltimore.

  We were on our way to Annapolis with half a load of oysters when thenews was given us by the captain of the Oriole, while he quoted theprices he got for his cargo, and since the Avenger was creeping alonglazily, with about one-quarter as much wind as she needed, we hadplenty of time in which to discuss a matter that seemed to be of verygreat importance to us.

  "There won't be any foolin' when Joshua Barney gets here, no matterhow big or how little his fleet is," Darius said as he laid at fulllength on the deck sunning himself, and in a twinkling it flashedacross me that the old man may have sailed with or under the gentlemanwho was to command such a naval force as could be gathered in theChesapeake bay, therefore I asked:

  "Do you happen to know the captain, Darius?"

  We always called the old man by his first name, because he insisted sostrongly that we should; said it made him feel at home, and sounded agood deal like putting on airs to tack on the "Mister."

  "Know him?" the old man cried, rising lazily on one elbow and swinginghalf around to look at me as I sat on the rudder-head. "I know himlock, stock an' ramrod, lad. The last deep sea cruise I went on waswith him. He's a snorter, that's what he is, an' I've heard his wholestory a hundred times over. I tell you, lads, there's nothin' in abook that can come up with Josh Barney's doin's."

  "Give us the full yarn, Darius!" Jerry cried. "We're like to beloafin' around here a good many hours, if this wind holds soft as Ireckon it will, an' we may as well make the most of the time."

  Darius was always ready to spin a yarn, which was much in his favoraccording to my way of thinking; but he couldn't seem to rattle thewords off easy like except when his mouth was full of tobacco,therefore Jerry and I could always tell whether the story was to belong or short, by the amount of roughly-cured plug he stowed betweenhis jaws.

  It was a mighty big chew he took while making ready to tell of CaptainBarney, and I must say for Darius, that he never spun a yarn whichinterested me more than the one I count on setting down here.

  "Josh Barney was born somewhere along 1759 in Baltimore," the old manbegan slowly, as if determined to give a regular biography of thecaptain. "His folks let him go to school till he was ten years old,an' then he began to shift for himself by goin' into a store; but,bless you, he never was made for that kind of work, an' before twoyears passed he found it out. Went over to Baltimore one day on avisit, an' wound up by shippin' on a pilot-boat; but even that wasn'twhat he hankered for, an' finally his father shipped him as apprenticeto Captain Tom Drisdale, on a brig for a voyage to Ireland."

  "I was in hopes your yarn had somethin' about his runnin' away to goto sea," Jerry said in a tone of disappointment.

  "You'll find these 'ere runaway sailors don't 'mount to very much,except in story books, an', besides, Josh Barney wasn't that kind of achap. Drisdale made the passage, an' then went up to Liverpool, wherehe got a chance to sell the brig. Barney worked his way home beforethe mast on a full-rigged ship--I don't jest remember her name. Whenhe struck Baltimore again it was to find that the old man Barney hadbeen killed accidentally by the youngest boy of the family, who wasfoolin' with a loaded pistol, an' Joshua had to shift for himself,seein's his father didn't have none too much money, an' a big family.The lad shipped for Cadiz as ordinary seaman; made the voyage allright; had a little cash to leave with his mother, an' then signed asan A1 on a brig bound for Italy."

  "It don't make very much difference to us how many voyages he made,"Jerry interrupted. "What we want to k
now is the kind of a man he is."

  "If you can put a stopper on your jaw a bit, you'll soon find out! Themate of the brig was sent into the forecastle, not bein' up to hiswork, an' Josh Barney took his place. Then the captain took sick, an'lo an' behold, before the lad had turned sixteen years old, he was incommand of the brig. Owin' to the freights that offered, he sailed forAlicant, an' made port just as the Spaniards were fittin' out anexpedition against Algiers. The brig was chartered as transport, an'he earned big money for the owners, gettin' back to the mouth of theChesapeake in '76, when the British sloop of war King Fisher hove himto an' took all his papers an' weapons; but let him keep on toBaltimore, where the brig was laid up. Then Barney had more money, an'considerable of it, for his mother."

  The old man paused to take in another cargo of tobacco, and thencontinued:

  "Young as he was, the lad found a chance to ship as master's mate onthe sloop Hornet, William Stone commandin', an' in one day, so it'ssaid, he, carryin' a flag an' with a drummer an' two fifers, enlisteda full crew for the Hornet, all from Baltimore, which goes to showthat the people there thought he amounted to somethin'. Barney sailedin Hopkins' fleet to the Bahamas, where the town of New Providence wastaken, an' the commodore scooped in all the ammunition to be found onthe island. A little while after that, he shipped on the schoonerWasp, which convoyed off the coast the vessel in which BenjaminFranklin was goin' to Europe to help pull this country through, an'when they came back into the Cape May channel they found the king'sships Roebuck an' Liverpool--one of forty-four guns an' the other oftwenty-eight--waitin' for 'em. There was lively times for a spell,until the Wasp contrived to slip into Wilmington creek, where she laidtill half a dozen row galleys came down from Philadelphia to attackthe British ships. Then the schooner came out, an' while the fightin'was goin' on, captured the brig Tender, one of his majesty's armedvessels what poked her nose in to help the big fellows. They sayBarney fought like a tiger, an' with his captain wounded, brought thelittle schooner an' her prize through the fog into port.

  "Then they gave him a lieutenant's commission, an' sent him off in thesloop Sachem, all of which happened before he was seventeen years old.He soon found a chance to fight, an' after an action of two hours,captured an English brig. After that they took the sloop Race Horse,cuttin' her up so badly she sank, an' the next to come their way was asnow from Jamaica, which the lad counted on bringin' into port, hebein' put on board as prize master. Then he had a bit of bad luck; thesnow was re-captured, an' Barney made prisoner, as stands to reason;but he was exchanged at Charleston, an' rode horseback to Baltimore."

  "How do you happen to remember all these things?" Jerry asked,thinking, perhaps, that Darius was giving us more guff than truth.

  "Remember it?" the old man repeated sharply. "Why I've sailed withCaptain Barney, an' every mother's son of the crew knew the story, forit ain't often that a lad of seventeen gets such a record, so wecouldn't help keepin' it in mind, besides which, I've got lots ofstuff in my pocket that's been printed about him. Well, in '77 heshipped on the Andrew Doria for the defense of the Delaware River, an'when that scrimmage was over, he found himself drafted to the frigateVirginia, when, as everybody knows, he was taken by the Britishersagain, an' held for nearly a year before bein' exchanged for thelieutenant of the Mermaid. Then he went out in a letter ofmarque--meanin' a privateer--with Captain Robinson; they had buttwelve guns, a mighty small stock of powder, an' only thirty-five men,but bless you those fellows thought nothin' of tacklin' the Britishprivateer Rosebud, full of men an' guns. Forty-seven of the enemy werekilled or wounded, an' aboard the Yankee only one was wounded. Theysailed to Bordeaux, took on a cargo of brandy, shipped seventy men,mounted eighteen guns, an' on the voyage home had a runnin' fightlastin' well on to two days, when they captured their game.

  "Then it was that Barney got married, an' about a month afterward,when drivin' in a gig from Philadelphia to Baltimore, he was robbed ofevery cent he had in the world. He never told anybody of his loss; butturned back to Philadelphia, took service aboard the Saratoga, sixteenguns, an' made a big voyage, capturin' one ship of twelve guns,another of thirty-two, an' two brigs. Then he was taken by theIntrepid, an' mighty barbarous treatment he got for well on to a year,when the young officer escaped, an' after he got home the governmentgave him command of the Hyder Ally, with which he soon took theBritish ship General Monk, as this 'ere bit of paper will show."

  Darius took from his pocket a well-worn slip cut from some newspaper,which purported to be an extract from the Hyder Ally log-book, and asit was mighty interesting to me, I'm going to set it down here just asit was printed.

  "April 8th, 1782, at 10 A.M. laying at anchor under Cape May (Delaware) discovered three sail standing in from sea with a light wind from the eastward; at 11 perceived that they were a frigate, a ship, and an armed brig. At meridian the frigate stood for Cape Henlopen channel, the ship and brig standing in for Cape May; made a signal for our convoy to get under weigh, and followed the convoy. At 1 P.M. the ship and brig came into the bay, by Cape May channel, the frigate coming around under Cape Henlopen; prepared for action, all hands to quarters.

  "At three-quarters past one, the brig passed us, after giving us two fires; we reserved our fire for the ship, then fast coming up; we received very little damage from the brig, who stood after our convoy; she mounted sixteen guns, and was formerly the American privateer 'Fair American', commanded by Captain Decatur, and equal to us in force.

  "At 2 P.M. the ship ranged up on our starboard quarter, and fired two guns at us; we were then at good pistol-shot; we then attempted to run her on board, by laying her across the starboard bow, but our yard-arms locked, which kept us too far off to board; at the same time poured in our broadside from great guns and small arms.

  "Our fire was briskly kept up for twenty-six minutes, when she struck her colors. Immediately sent our first lieutenant on board, and stood up the bay, the frigate at this time under a press of sail in chase after us, and the brig ahead in chase of our convoy; again prepared for action, and stood after the brig, but on her perceiving that the ship had struck, she stood for the frigate, and got aground; we were obliged to pass her, as the frigate gained on us.

  "At 4 P.M. the frigate came to anchor in the bay, (supposed for want of a pilot.) We then spoke the prize for the first time, and learned she was his Majesty's ship the General Monk, Captain Rodgers, of nineteen nine-pounders, but fighting twenty guns, and had on board, when the action began, one hundred and thirty-six men, of whom thirty were killed, and fifty-three wounded. Of sixteen officers on board, fifteen were killed or wounded. The captain received three wounds.

  "We had on board the Hyder Ally four killed and eleven wounded. The Hyder Ally mounted twelve six-pounders, and four nine-pounders, with a complement of one hundred and fifteen men. During the action we fired thirteen broadsides from our cannon, and from sixty to seventy rounds from our muskets.

  "Proportion of metal: The General Monk ten nine-pounders, fired ninety weight of shot at one broadside. The Hyder Ally, six sixes and two nines, fired fifty-four weight of shot at one broadside. Proportion--fifty to ninety."

  "That all came from the log-book, an' you'll find Captain Barneydidn't try to blow his own horn," Darius said as I ceased reading."But I happened to go on board the General Monk when she got intoPhiladelphia, an' saw the killed an' wounded bein' brought ashore inhammocks. The prize looked tough; her decks were covered with blood,an' three of the bow ports were knocked into one. She was sold,bought in by the government, an' Barney took command of her, sailin'for France, with despatches to Benjamin Franklin. Then the war came toan end, an' he settled in Kentucky somewhere. Here's a newspaper storyof what happened after that," and Darius gave me another slip ofpaper, the matter on which I read aloud to Jerry, as follows:

  "In 1789 Captai
n Barney, finding his health impaired by his services,embarked for Carthagena in a small brig belonging to himself andpartner. Thence he went to Havana, and then home. In 1792 he sailedagain, and arrived at Cape Francois. While there the town was burnt,and he was obliged to fight his way. He brought off fifty or sixtymiserable women and children. His vessel was captured by an Englishprivateer brig, two others in company. Three officers and eleven menwere put on board, and all the Americans taken out except Barney, thecarpenter, boatswain and cook. They were ordered to New Providence.The keys of the treasure chest were demanded, but Barney would notdeliver them, which occasioned much abuse and ill treatment. He hadconcealed a small blunderbuss, and his men some other arms, with whichthey re-took the ship. The Englishmen were made to work the vesseluntil they arrived at Baltimore. Barney was compelled, for his ownsafety, to sleep on the quarter-deck in an arm-chair. He again sailedfor Cape Francois in 1793; on his return, he was again captured by anEnglish brig, and taken to Jamaica. When he arrived in Kingston he wascommitted to prison, and bills were found against him for piracy. Hisship and cargo were condemned. Once more he escaped, and on his returnwas offered command of a frigate; but declined. In 1795 he entered theFrench service, remaining in that employ until 1800."

  "Now you can see what kind of a man it is who'll be in command here onthe Chesapeake," Darius said triumphantly when I ceased reading. "TheBritishers won't find it all plain sailin' while he's around, and I'mallowin' he'll make things hum."

  It pleased me to know that we would have a live man to protect us, forif all the rumors were to be credited, the time had come when weneeded protection mighty bad; but with all Darius' storytelling, itnever came into my mind that we would know this wonderful CaptainBarney, except by hearsay.

  We continued at our oyster business without being troubled in any wayby the war, although small fights were going on all around us duringthe early part of the summer.

  More than once had we seen the flotilla under command of this sameCaptain Barney, who was come to be a commodore now. In it weretwenty-six barges and pungies, with nine hundred men, all of whom sawmore of service from May to July than they had ever dreamed of.

  The commodore did indeed make things "hum," as Darius had predicted.He attacked anything and everything that was British, never seeming tocare one whit whether he was outclassed or not, and succeeded in doingthe enemy a big lot of injury. It is well known that once, during afull four hours, he kept his small fleet under the fire of a frigate'sguns, hoping to capture her.

  Then the Britishers began to understand that if they wanted to havethings their own way in the Chesapeake, it would be necessary to firstdo away with Commodore Barney, and they began operations in greatshape, although at the time we who were most interested in thatlocality had little idea of what was coming.

  Now after this fleet of barges and pungies began their work, Jerryseemed to have something of import on his mind; but never a word wouldhe say in explanation to Darius and me, until our business grew sodull that it was only with great difficulty we could earn enough topay the running expenses, and then it was that the lad came to thefront with a scheme which he thought great, while neither of us somuch as dreamed of what the carrying out would result in.

  "It's no use freightin' oysters to Baltimore, when we can't sell 'emfor enough to pay for the use of the pungy, to say nothin' of our timein dredgin'," Jerry began one afternoon about the first of August,when we were coming down the bay with our pockets nearly as empty asthe Avenger's hold.

  "But we do get a dollar now an' then," I said with a laugh, "which ismore than could be done if we turned idlers. Half a loaf is way aheadof no bread at all."

  Darius nodded gravely as if to show that he agreed with me fully, andJerry cried with more of anger than good humor in his tones:

  "But I'm countin' on havin' a bit of meat now an' then. I could eat arazor-back this minute without stoppin' to take off the bristles; butthere isn't money enough on board to buy the smallest ham."

  "How are you goin' to mend matters, lad, while the price of oysterskeeps down as it is now?" Darius asked, beginning to understand thatJerry had something in his head which might serve us.

  "I'm told that Commodore Barney keeps his men jumpin' so lively atfightin' that they don't have time for anythin' else," the lad saidslowly, as if speaking to himself, and I wondered if he counted thatthe commodore could raise the price of oysters.

  "I reckon that's the straight truth," Darius replied. "It ain't hisway to keep cats that don't catch mice."

  "Then why is it we can't make a trade to help supply the commodorewith fish an' oysters? Even though he didn't give very much for thefreights we brought in, it wouldn't be a case of losin' three or fourdays out of every ten runnin' up to Baltimore."

  Even then I failed to understand his scheme, and said as much, whereatthe lad cried impatiently:

  "You must be thick-headed, Amos Grout, if you can't see what I'mdrivin' at. The matter has been in my mind these two months past, sonow I propose that we go to Commodore Barney--he surely will hear whatwe've got to say--, an' try to make a trade. He buys more'n half ofall his provisions, for the men of the fleet don't get time to do muchfishin', an' we could let ourselves an' the pungy outright, or agreeupon a price for what we bring in."

  It wasn't at all a bad scheme, now that our regular business was sodull; but I questioned if the commodore would listen to such as wewere, long enough to understand what kind of a bargain we had tooffer.

  "I'll go bail that you won't have any trouble in gettin' speech withJoshua Barney, an' for so long as the business warrants, pervidin' youcan catch him when he's got a few spare minutes on his hands," Dariussaid quickly, and from his tone I understood that he heartily approvedof Jerry's scheme.

  "But where shall we find the fleet?" I asked, and to the questionJerry made answer:

  "We've been countin' on runnin' in to see our folks at Benedict, an' Iwarrant that there we'll get news of the commodore. If not, it won'tcost so very much time to have a look around the lower end of thebay."

  "Yes, an' be snapped up by some bloomin' Britisher," I said, having nodesire to mix in where people were fighting with such playful weaponsas cannon and rifles.

  "We should be able to keep out of the way of danger," Jerry replied,as if he had thought out the whole scheme, and I then understood thathe had been mooning over it the past two months, determined to springit on us when the price of oysters dropped below what would be decentwages.

  Well, we didn't come to any conclusion that day, owing to my standingback and throwing cold water; but we were bound to touch at the homeport, and Jerry bided his time until we were where informationregarding the fleet could be had.