 | CHAPTER XVII. The free-trader, or, The cruiser of Narragansett Bay |  |
17. CHAPTER XVII.
When the captain of the Free-Trader
reached the deck of his brig, he
found that she was close up to the
wharf, and that men were busily securing
her to the wharf posts. Above him
rose the walls of Mr. Frankland's store-house,
and the pier head was dark with
a crowd of not less than one hundred
men.
“He is dead drunk, sir, and fast
asleep. I've fixed him for to-night,”
were Captain Benbow's words, as he
passed the merchant, who was talking
with a citizen upon the wharf, who carried
a lanthorn in his hand.
“The people now on the wharf are
all our friends,” said the merchant to
Mr. Frankland. “We have had charge
of the gate above, and admitted none
others; and, indeed, the majority of the
town are on our side. But you can do
nothing, sir, with the Bexley at anchor
so near.”
“The Bexley will hardly open her
batteries upon us in the night, with the
town in range. If she sends her boats,
we must do the best we can with them.
We have already resisted successfully
an attempt of two boats from the Gaspee
to board us, and in return we were
cannonaded, but in the darkness escaped,
and have succeeded in reaching
port.”
“The whole town has been in a state
of excitement about the firing. Things
have come to a crisis at last. Where
is Birchell? Didn't he get on board?
He tried to come down on the wharf,
but couldn't pass the gate, and so went
round, and with a custom-house boat
pulled out to board you before you
should touch the pier. I thought I saw
him get on board.”
“He is here, but will hardly trouble
us,” answered Mr. Frankland. “How
many men have you on the wharf willing
to work in unloading the brig?”
“Every man of them, old and young,
I believe would turn to. But the Captain
is getting ready to go to work, I
see.”
“Off with the hatches, Mr. Coffin,”
cried Captain Benbow, “and rig the
tackle for hoisting out. We must be
lively.”
“You see we are resolved sir,” answered
Mr. Frankland.
“But the Bexley's boats will be here
ere long.”
“We shall continue to work till they
do come, and then we must keep them
out of the brig. There are men enough
our friends, to overawe any party that
would approach us from the sloop.”
“But are you really going to land
your cargo in the face of this ship-of-war,
Mr. Frankland?” cried another
merchant coming on board. “It is
madness!”
“I shall make the attempt. In landing
my cargo I am only doing what I
have a right to do.”
“But the consequences, sir.”
“I leave consequences to take care
of themselves. I am acting from a high
principle, sir.”
“The brig and cargo will be forfeited,
and you will be imprisoned!”
“I shall do all I can to prevent it.”
“I see lights moving quickly here and
there about the sloop's decks; you may
be sure they will send their armed
boats.”
“I do not fear them. There are at
least five hundred men on this and other
piers, if I can judge of numbers in
opposed to the revenue laws, and will
see me out in any resistance I may
make.”
“Resistance without arms?” exclaimed
the merchant, with surprise and
doubt.
“Yes, sir. Do not be amazed, Mr.
Farly, the day is not far distant when
the colonies will fly to arms from the
north to the south to resist the oppression
of the crown, of which these laws are
but the beginning”
“You will lose your head, sir, to attempt
by force to oppose the king's
boats,” said the same person. “The
Bexley will be sure to open her broad-sides
upon the town, if any of the people
engage with you to resist their
boats.”
“Mr. Frankland, all is ready, sir, to
begin to hoist out the cargo,” said
Captain Benbow. “We only wait for
your store-house doors to be opened.”
“Which they shall be without delay,”
answered Mr. Frankland, leaving
the gentlemen, and stepping upon the
pier, upon which his stores stood.—
In a few moments he had unlocked the
doors, and when the people by the light
of the numerous lanthorns held by persons
in the crowd and hoisted in the
rigging, saw them open, they shouted
aloud, and filled the air with “Three
cheers for Mr. Frankland! Down with
the Revenue! Hurrah for the Free-Trader
and Captain Benbow.”
“I wonder where the officers of the
customs are?” observed the town clerk,
a warm tory, bustling about the deck in
his silver laced chapeau and gold headed
stick. I don't see either Mr. Riverton
nor even the tide-master. Things
have come to a pass! Stop, Captain
Benbow, I forbid in the king's name,
landing any of this cargo!”
“Mr. Clerk, I advise you to leave
my brig's deck, sir,” replied Captain
Benbow, resolutely. “You may happen
to get a cask of wine on your head,
or a box of sugar on your toes. You
will find safety in discretion to-night.”
“Out with him! Hussle him overboard!”
cried several rough voices.—
“We want no king's men here tonight!”
“Down with the tories! No king's
revenue for freemen!” shouted a hundred
voices on the wharf.
The crowd each moment increased,
and became more and more resolute
and patriotic in their hatred to the new
laws. The lanthorns, as they glowed
upon the masses of human faces, showed
men aged and gray-haired, leaning on
their staffs, middle aged men with stern
visages, armed with stones or bludgeons,
and some even with firelocks, and
lads even of tender age. Every face
bore an expression of resolute defiance,
and that earnest, enthusiastic look,
which can only proceed from the profoundest
excitement. It was a singular
and wild scene, and as Mr. Frankland
glanced his eye for an instant over
the glare illumined faces of six or seven
hundred persons all moved by one spirit,
and actuated by one feeling, and as his
ears caught the deep murmurs of approbation
that broke from them, as pipe
after pipe was hoisted from the hold
and swung by a score of strong and
willing arms into his store house, he
trembled at the power he had been instrumental
in setting in motion, while
at the same time he rejoiced in the love
of freedom so clearly manifested by
them at such a crisis. He turned to
the timid merchant who had been
speaking of the Bexley's boats and fearing
them.
“Look at those men, old and young,
and see if you think I have anything to
fear from the Bexley, though she should
send all her boats with a hundred of her
men. There is a power in those masses
that they would not dare to provoke,
by attempting to board the brig.”
“True, Mr. Frankland, but though
you might prevent their coming on board
to-night, you will suffer to-morrow.—
The sloop will certainly open with her
guns upon your brig and store-house, for
these are all that will be in range of her
shot. You will certainly lose your
vessel, and perhaps your life. My advice
to you is, that if they come, you
let them place on board Mr. Riverton,
the commissioners, and—”
“And so virtually acknowledge the
right of the crown to take tribute of the
colonies! No, no, sir; and besides
Mr. Riverton is not on board the Bexley.”
“Heave-he-yeoh! Sing cheerily
ho yeo! All together, pull boys, yeo-heave-ho!”
Thus loudly rang the voices
of the men at work, and with astonishing
celerity pipe and cask, box and
bag were hoisted up and swung into the
large door of the store-house. Every
ten minutes the gangs were relieved,
for men rivalled each other in their desire
to show their patriotism and detestation
of the crown laws, by lending a
hand to the fall and assist. There
seemed a spirit of haughty defiance and
contemptuous indifference combined by
the near vicinage of the sloop-of-war!
The men who labored at the fall, appeared
to give out their voices as if
they desired that they should be heard
on board the Bexley, for all hopes of
performing the task of unlading the
brig, which Mr. Frankland had contemplated
in the outset, without noise
or observation, were out of the question;
inasmuch as all the town were alive,
and boats containing friends to the revenue
had no doubt put off to the sloop
to report the proceedings. So he made
no attempt to enforce silence; and in
his heart rejoiced that the English officers
could have now an opportunity of
seeing demonstrated the unpopularity
of the law with the people; for it had
been published in England that only a
few of the more opulent merchants
would oppose it, while the masses
would gladly see it imposed.
“The proceedings of this night,”
said Mr. Frankland, as he stood near
Captain Benbow watching the people
at work, “will show the ministry that
it is not safe to try the experiment of
seeing how free-born men will wear a
yoke. I do not shrink from any result
of my conduct, captain, and am ready
to stand in the breach. But with you
it is different, and your crew. Your
presence is no more needed on board,
and your family claim your attention.
You have faithfully served me and shall
have your reward. There is no doubt
that you will be aimed at particularly
for resisting the two boats!”
“I am willing to be the target then!”
answered the captain, stoutly.
“But I am not willing you should be.
You acted under my orders; but it is
not known I was on board at the time,
save by the commissioner, and I will
risk his report. My wish and advice
is, for you to take the brig's yawl and
put into it what you wish to take home,
and take all your crew with you, not
leaving a man for the English captain
to inflict vengeance upon. In four or
five hours, at least by sunrise, you can
reach Bristol. There remain secretly
with your family till you hear from me.
I do not wish evil to come upon you.
Your crew are now no longer wanted,
the cargo, by my patriotic townsmen,
as you see; volunteers from whom are
so numerous, that they are even in each
other's way! No objections, for I will
not hear them!”
“But it looks so like skulking!!'
“It is my command! you must obey
it. No one would ever question your
courage, captain. You owe it to your
men to try and save them. I and my
friends here can look after the brig's
safety. As soon as it will be safe for
you to return to Newport, I will send
you word. A few days, at the most,
will put an end to the merits of this
present affair. In a week's time, perhaps,
certain the worst will be known
that is to be. Now order the yawl
round at once; for the Bexley's boats
may be here and blockade you!”
“I expected them to be here before
this, sir; and therefore I am positive
it was them I saw pulling down the bay
toward the Gaspee!”
“So much the better for us! I have
spoken to Mr. Coffin, who is ready to
second my wishes and go with you.—
He is now collecting the crew!”
“Well, Mr. Frankland, I have no
more to say. I dare say it is the best
course for me; and, as you say, I can
be of no more service on board, now
that the brig is at the wharf and you
are here to superintend. So I'll be off;
for, to tell you the truth, I shall be very
glad to see my wife and children! I
must go into the cabin to get my clothes
and some little presents I have got for
the little folks at home: and some other
things I wish you would have taken out
by some men you can trust and put in
your counting-room to keep for me;
for if they should take the brig, I would
not like to lose them!”
“I will see to them all!”
“And I leave Birchell, also to your
care. I gave him at least half a
wine-glass of Iaudanum in his brandy.
The liquor will keep it from hurting
him; but he will not wake for one
while. I would let him lie where he is.
Then there is the commissioner in the
locker!”
“I'll take care that he does n't get
out,” answered Mr. Frankland, smiling
at the manner in which the captain
made these communications.
Captain Benbow then went into his
cabin, where he found the tide-waiter,
Birchell, still upon the floor in deep
sleep. He did not disturb him, but
packing up the articles he wished to
take with him, he placed them within
reach of the cabin window.
“Captain, my dear Captain Benbow!”
called out the commissioner from his
hiding-place, “I am nearly perished
for air and room to move my limbs!”
“You should not have made yourself
so officious, Master Riverton! Good
night. When the cargo is out you shall
be let out, not before!”
With these comforting words, Captain
Benbow returned to the deck; and
in five minutes afterwards he had got
into his boat with his mate and eight
men, and with what bundles they could
make up on the spur of the moment.
Taking leave of Mr. Frankland, he
dropped astern, and delaying but for an
instant under the cabin windows to
take into the boat the parcels he had
placed there, he gave orders to push
off and row up against the stream past
the town.
The night was starry, and a seaman
could make out a boat on the water,
even at the distance of the Bexley; but
nothing met the eye of the captain, as
he keenly surveyed the space between
his boat and the sloop, to indicate any
the cause of the excitement in
the town; for he was certain the numerous
lanterns on the pier, and the shouts
of the people must have been noticed
on board, even if the brig herself had
not been seen to arrive and enter the
dock. He could only account for their
apparent indifference from the fact
that her boats had been sent down the
bay; and thus he was confirmed in his
affirmation that those which he had seen
were men-of-war barges, though pronounced
by the less practised eye of Mr.
Frankland to be fishermen.
| CHAPTER XVII. The free-trader, or, The cruiser of Narragansett Bay | |