Harper's Young People, August 24, 1880 Part 4

Lieutenant Lawrence had gained great renown by his capture of the _Peac.o.c.k_. He was promoted to Captain, and when the _Chesapeake_ returned to Boston, after a long cruise, in May, 1813, he was offered the command of her. He accepted it with reluctance, for she had the reputation of being an "unlucky" s.h.i.+p. In the cruise just ended she had accomplished nothing, and as she entered Boston Harbor a gale carried away a top-mast, and with it several men, who were drowned. This incident confirmed the belief that she was "unlucky," and it was difficult to get a good crew to serve in her.

On the morning of the 1st of June Lawrence received from Captain Broke, of the frigate _Shannon_, a challenge to come out and fight him. It was promptly accepted, and at noon the _Chesapeake_ sailed out of Boston Harbor. The hostile frigates met not far at sea. At four o'clock they opened their broadsides within pistol-shot distance, and fought desperately. The loss of life on board the _Chesapeake_ was fearful.

Lawrence was mortally wounded, and as he was carried below he uttered the famous words, in substance, "Don't give up the s.h.i.+p." The _Chesapeake_ was boarded, captured, and taken to Halifax. Lawrence died on the way. Broke was severely wounded, but recovered.

The American sloop of war _Argus_, Lieutenant Allen commander, took Mr.

Crawford (American Minister) to France in the summer of 1813, and then cruised in British waters, imitating the exploits of Paul Jones. Allen captured and burned twenty merchantmen in the course of a few weeks (valued, with their cargoes, at full $2,000,000), and spread consternation throughout commercial England. Several cruisers were sent out to capture the _Argus_. This was effected in August by the brig _Pelican_.

The Americans were partially compensated for these misfortunes by the capture of the British brig _Boxer_ by the brig _Enterprise_, Lieutenant Burrows. They fought off Portland, at half pistol-shot distance, on the 3d of September, 1813. The commander of the _Boxer_ (Lieutenant Blyth) had boastfully nailed his flag to her mast, and after a sharp, short, and destructive engagement, she was compelled to surrender. Her second officer had to announce the fact through his trumpet, for he could not haul down her flag. Burrows and Blyth were both slain, and were buried side by side in a cemetery in Portland.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE "ESs.e.x," "PHOEBE," AND "CHERUB."--DRAWN BY J. O.

DAVIDSON.]

One of the most remarkable cruises made during the war of 1812-15 was by Commander Porter in the frigate _Ess.e.x_. She sailed from the Delaware in October, 1812; went toward the equator to join the _Const.i.tution_ and _Hornet_, under Bainbridge; missed them; swept around Cape Horn into the Pacific Ocean, and went into the harbor of Valparaiso, on the western coast of South America. Then she cruised northward in search of British armed whaling vessels, capturing several. Porter converted them into war vessels, and created for himself an active little squadron, with which he sailed for the Marquesas Islands. After remaining there awhile, he returned to Valparaiso, and at that sea-port had a fierce battle with two British vessels which had been sent to oppose his destructive career in the waters of the Pacific. These were the frigates _Phoebe_ and _Cherub_.

These vessels cruised off the harbor of Valparaiso, waiting for re-enforcements. The _Ess.e.x_, with her consort, _Ess.e.x Junior_, in attempting to get to sea, became crippled by a squall, when the _Phoebe_ and _Cherub_ attacked, in violation of the rights of a neutral port. Then occurred one of the most sanguinary sea-fights of the war, and it was only when her officers and men were nearly all slain or wounded, and she was on fire, that the _Ess.e.x_ was surrendered. "We have been unfortunate, but not disgraced," wrote Porter to the Secretary of the Navy. That was in February, 1814. Porter had carried the first American flag on a vessel of war ever seen in the Pacific Ocean.

Commodore Rodgers made a memorable cruise of one hundred and forty days on the stormy Atlantic in 1813, sailing from Boston in the frigate _President_ in April. He captured eleven British merchant vessels and the armed schooner _Highflyer_, a tender of Admiral Warren's flag-s.h.i.+p.

Rodgers had been put in possession of some of the British signals. When he saw the _Highflyer_, he hoisted English colors, and trying his signals, found to his delight that they were answered. He then a.s.sumed the character of a British officer. He decoyed the _Highflyer_ alongside the _President_, which he pretended was the large British s.h.i.+p _Sea-Horse_, then in American waters. The commander of the _Highflyer_ (Lieutenant Hutchinson) was thoroughly deceived. Rodgers ordered him to send him his signal books. He obeyed, and soon followed them in person.

He saw the marines of the _President_ in British uniform, and mistook them for his own countrymen.

"The _President_," said the unsuspecting Hutchinson, "has spread alarm in British waters, and the main object of the Admiral is to catch her."

"What kind of a man is Rodgers?" asked the Commodore.

"I have never seen him," said Hutchinson, "but have been told that he is an odd fish, and hard to catch."

"Would you like to meet him?"

"Indeed I would, with a vessel of equal size."

"Sir!" said Rodgers, in a tone that startled the Lieutenant, "do you know what s.h.i.+p this is?"

"The _Sea-Horse_, of course."

"You are mistaken. You are on board the _President_, and I am Commodore Rodgers."

Then the band struck up "Yankee Doodle," the coats of the marines were suddenly changed from scarlet to blue, and the American flag was displayed over the quarter-deck. Rodgers took his captive and his prize to Newport. He made another less successful cruise, and about the middle of January, 1814, he dashed through the British blockading squadron at New York, and anch.o.r.ed in the harbor.

The British had carried on a distressing marauding warfare on the coasts during 1813, which kept the smaller vessels of the navy and privateers vigilant and active. During that summer there were only three American frigates at sea, others being either blockaded or undergoing repairs; and yet the Americans, with indomitable will, resolved to carry on the war with vigor. In September, Commodore Perry, in command of a squadron on Lake Erie, won a decisive victory over a British squadron under Commodore Barclay, and thereby secured the absolute control of that lake. Meanwhile Commodore Chauncey, in command on Lake Ontario, was performing gallant services there, standing in the way of British invasions on that frontier, and co-operating efficiently with the land forces on its borders.

[TO BE CONTINUED.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: "KEEP STEP, KEEP STEP: ONE, TWO, THREE--ONE, TWO, THREE."]

HOW THE GEESE SAVED THE BABY.

BY MRS. L. G. MORSE.

John Evans was raking hay in a field on the south side of his cottage, while his wife was in the dairy printing b.u.t.ter for market. Little Elsy, their two-year-old baby, was playing with blocks on the sitting-room floor, and old Robin Hood, the dog, was asleep on the gra.s.s close by the door that opened on the lawn.

The sky was almost cloudless, and the sun blazed warm in the fields.

"Just the weather to make the corn grow," said John Evans, resting a quarter of a minute, and looking contentedly over the wall at his flouris.h.i.+ng corn blades, already two good inches at least above those of his rich neighbor, Mr. Haverly.

"Elsy is safe," said Barbara, the trim little house-maid. "I might as well knead up the bread." And she whisked through the sitting-room so fast, and with so little noise, that Elsy only looked up to see if a bird had flown in over the low half-door.

Tired of her blocks at last, Elsy went and tugged at the door, and made the latch rattle. Robin opened one eye--the one toward the house--and half-c.o.c.ked an ear. But Elsy kept up the rattle long enough for him to get used to it, and drawing his tail closer under his nose, he ceased paying any attention to the child. He knew she was behind the door. He had done his full duty by standing on his hind-legs against it, and looking to see what she was about before he settled himself for his nap.

She rattled the latch every day, but she had never been able to lift it--he needn't have _that_ on his mind. So, by-and-by, when the crown of her little white head showed itself above the door, Robin was dozing away, more sleepy than ever.

She had pushed her block-box close to the sill, and stepped on it to take another view of the latch. For Elsy was enterprising, and had no more idea than have other two-year-old babies of remaining in ignorance of any new and untried danger. Of course she succeeded at last, and so easily that she pushed the door open and let herself backward down the steps without waking the dog.

The oldest mother goose in the barn-yard was as energetic as Elsy. She quacked about among her neighbors until she collected the whole flock, and then matronized them down to the big shallow pond in front of the house. They pottered a good deal on the way among mud-puddles, for there had been a shower the night before.

Dame Evans pottered too in the dairy, but that was because pretty Miss Ruth Haverly called to bespeak some of the b.u.t.ter before it should be sent to market, and was trying her hands at the printing. Very soft white hands they were, and Mrs. Evans enjoyed watching them.

"There," she said, "that one is a beauty!" as Ruth turned one of the yellow b.a.l.l.s into a dish. But she never would have allowed anybody else to meddle so with her b.u.t.ter. A spot on the dairy shelf would have been as great a crime as a speck on the snow-white kerchief crossed on her bosom. But no thought would she have taken of the b.u.t.ter, nor even of dainty Miss Ruth, had she known what Elsy was doing. Nor would Barbara have cared so much about the bread. She was singing, and did not hear Elsy fumbling with the door-latch.

But the child had trotted by Robin Hood, down the long path, all the way to the river, and was so pleased at the feat that she laughed aloud. It was the first chance she had ever had to get alone to the river.

Somebody had always been on hand to pull her away just in time to save her feet from touching the water. Now they touched it in comfort, and little cool ripples washed over the toes of her stockings--she had pulled her shoes off long ago in the house. She ran up and down the edge of the water a few times, and then began picking up sticks and stray leaves to throw into it. Higher and higher her spirits rose with the sport. If it had not been for Barbara's song, Robin would surely have heard Elsy shout. But Robin was lazy in his old age, and was actually snoring. Elsy spied a pretty goose-feather, and gave it a toss. The breeze carried it farther out on the water than the small maid intended.

But she was fearless, and catching at some cat-tails growing on the bank, she waded in after her feather.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE RESCUE.--DRAWN BY H. P. SHARE.]

She stumbled over the uneven bottom, and the stones hurt her soft little feet. Down she went, head and all under water, just as the geese came, ready at last for their swim. When they saw Elsy splas.h.i.+ng about, they thought she was trespa.s.sing. Or perhaps they understood perfectly well that the river, although safe for them, was a dangerous place for the innocent baby. Who knows? Certain it was that as Elsy went down under the water, the geese flapped their wings, and made a tremendous racket.

They made such a noise as never had been heard in the place before. They wakened old Robin at last, and brought him quick as a flash to his post of duty. Oh, he could make noise enough then, to be sure! He could tear round the house like a hurricane, dash down the path and into the water, seize little Elsy's dress, and hold her head above the surface until her father came to the rescue, plunged into the river, and in another minute had borne his darling safely to land. Her bright eyes were closed, and her form lay quite senseless against her father's bosom, while Robin looked up to be sure she was safe, and Barbara ran terrified from the house, her singing silenced at last.

But Elsy opened her eyes again before long. Joy greeted the little life saved, and the mother half smothered old Robin with kisses, in spite of his dripping coat, which utterly ruined her kerchief.

John Evans and his good dame would never have cheated a mouse of its due, yet they petted and honored old Robin as long as he lived, and told children and grandchildren hundreds of times how it was _he_ saved Elsy, when, as sure as anything, the whole credit was due to the geese.

[Ill.u.s.tration: OUR POST-OFFICE BOX.]

We have received a large number of letters from our young readers asking for stamps, leaves, flowers, and other things; but unless they offer some suitable equivalent in exchange, which they must specify in the letter, we can not print such requests.

The cooking club is broken up. We are a.s.sured that the disbandment is not on account of any bad feeling among the members, neither for lack of interest, but that the sole reason is the whooping-cough! As we have already given enough recipes to render our young housekeepers skillful bread, cake, and candy makers, if they try them all, we shall not print any after the present number. If any of you wish to give a tea party to your little friends, by using the recipes sent by the little readers of HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE you can prepare with your own hands a very inviting supper, for you could wish for nothing nicer than hot pop-overs, little cakes, and candy.