He came up to the hammock where the boy lay and looked in at him. The bright young fellow then had his eyes tight shut and seemed to be fast asleep. After looking a minute the man went away. The instant he was out of sight up jumped the lad and ran to the captain's cabin. You may be sure he did not take many words to tell what he had seen.

Captain Porter knew there was no time to be lost. He sprang out of bed in haste and ran to the deck. Here he gave a loud yell of "Fire! Fire!"

In a minute the men came tumbling up from below like so many rats. They had been trained what to do in case of a night-fire and every man ran to his place. Captain Porter had even built fires that sent up volumes of smoke, so as to make them quick to act and to steady their nerves.

While the cry of fire roused the Americans, it scared the conspirators, and before they could get back their wits the sailors were on them. It did not take long to lock them up again. In that way Porter and Farragut saved their ship.

The time was coming in which he would lose his ship, but the way he lost it brought him new fame. I must tell you how this came about. When the _Const.i.tution_ and the _Hornet_, as I have told you in another story, were in the waters of Brazil, the _Ess.e.x_ was sent to join them. You know what was done there, how the _Const.i.tution_ whipped and sunk the _Java_, and the _Hornet_ did the same for the _Peac.o.c.k_.

There was no such luck for the _Ess.e.x_, and after his fellow-ships had gone north Captain Porter went cruising on his own account. In the Pacific Ocean were dozens of British whalers and other ships. Here was a fine field for prizes. So he set sail, went round the stormy Cape Horn in a hurricane, and was soon in the great ocean of the west.

I shall not tell you the whole story of this cruise. The _Ess.e.x_ here was like a hawk among a flock of partridges. She took prize after prize, until she had about a dozen valuable ships.

When the news of what Porter was doing reached England, there was a sort of panic. Something must be done with this fellow or he would clear the Pacific of British trade. So a number of frigates were sent in the hunt for him. They were to get him in any way they could.

After a long cruise on the broad Pacific, the _Ess.e.x_ reached the port of Valparaiso, on the coast of Chile, in South America. She had with her one of her prizes, the _Ess.e.x Junior_. Here Porter heard that a British frigate, the _Phoebe_, was looking for him. That pleased him. He wanted to come across a British war-vessel, so he concluded to wait for her. He was anxious for something more lively than chasing whaling ships.

He was not there long before the _Phoebe_ came, and with her a small warship, the _Cherub_.

When the _Phoebe_ came in sight of the _Ess.e.x_ it sailed close up. Its captain had been told that half the American crew were ash.o.r.e, and very likely full of Spanish wine. But when he got near he saw the Yankee sailors at their guns and ready to fight. When he saw this he changed his mind. He jumped on a gun and said:--

"Captain Hillyar's compliments to Captain Porter, and hopes he is well."

"Very well, I thank you," said Porter. "But I hope you will not come too near for fear some accident might take place which would be disagreeable to you."

"I had no intention of coming on board," said Captain Hillyar, when he saw the look of things on the deck of the _Ess.e.x_. "I am sorry I came so near you."

"Well, you have no business where you are," said Porter. "If you touch a rope yarn of this ship, I shall board instantly."

With that the _Phoebe_ wore round and went off. It was a neutral port and there was a good excuse for not fighting, but it was well for Porter that he was ready.

A few days later he heard that some other British ships were coming from Valparaiso and he concluded to put to sea. He didn't want to fight a whole fleet. But the wind treated him badly. As he sailed out a squall struck the _Ess.e.x_ and knocked her maintopmast into the sea. Porter now ran into a small bay near at hand and dropped anchor close to the sh.o.r.e.

Here was the chance for the _Phoebe_ and the _Cherub_. They could stand off and hammer the _Ess.e.x_ where she could not fire back. They had over thirty long guns while the _Ess.e.x_ had only six, and only three of these could be used. The rest of her guns were short ones that would not send a ball far enough to reach the British ships.

The _Ess.e.x_ was in a trap. The British began to pour solid iron into her at the rate of nearly ten pounds to her one. For two hours this was kept up. There was frightful slaughter on the _Ess.e.x_. Her men were falling like dead leaves, but Porter would not yield.

After this went on for some time there came a change in the wind, and the _Ess.e.x_ spread what sail she had and tried to get nearer. But the _Phoebe_ would not wait for her, but sailed away and kept pumping b.a.l.l.s into her.

Soon the wind changed again. Now all hope was gone. The American crew was being murdered and could not get near the British. Porter tried to run his ship ash.o.r.e, intending to fight to the last and then blow her up.

But the treacherous wind shifted again and he could not even reach the sh.o.r.e. Dead and wounded men lay everywhere. Flames were rising in the hold. Water was pouring into shot holes. The good ship had fought her last and it was madness to go on. So at 6.20 o'clock, two and a half hours after the fight began, her flag came down and the battle was over.

The story of the cruise of the _Ess.e.x_ and her great struggle against odds was written for us by her young midshipman--David Farragut.

President Roosevelt, in his Naval History of the War of 1812, says the following true words about Captain Porter's brave fight:

"As an exhibition of dogged courage it has never been surpa.s.sed since the time when the Dutch Captain Keasoon, after fighting two long days, blew up his disabled ship, devoting himself and all his crew to death, rather than surrender to the hereditary foes of his race." Porter was the man to do the same thing, but he felt he had no right to send all his men to death.

CHAPTER XVIII

COMMODORE MACDONOUGH'S VICTORY ON LAKE CHAMPLAIN

HOW GENERAL PREVOST AND THE BRITISH RAN AWAY

THE United States is a country rich in lakes. They might be named by the thousands. But out of this host of lakes very few are known in history, and of them all much the most famous is Lake Champlain.

Do you wish to know why? Well, because this lake forms a natural waterway from Canada down into the States. If you look on a map you will see that Lake Champlain and Lake George stretch down nearly to the Hudson River and that their waters flow north into the great St.

Lawrence River. So these lakes make the easiest way to send trade, and troops as well, down from Canada into New York and New England.

Now just let us take a look back in history. The very first battle in the north of our country was fought on Lake Champlain. This was in 1609, when Samuel de Champlain and his Indian friends came down this lake in canoes to fight with the Iroquois tribes of New York.

Then in 1756 the French and Indians did the same thing. They came in a fleet of boats and canoes and fought the English on Lake George. Twenty years afterward there was the fierce fight which General Arnold made on this lake, of which I have told you. Later on General Burgoyne came down Lakes Champlain and George with a great army. He never went back again, for he and his army were taken prisoners by the brave Colonials. But the last and greatest of all the battles on the lakes was that of 1814. It is of this I am now about to tell you.

You should know that the British again tried what they had done when they sent Burgoyne down the lakes. This time it was Sir George Prevost who was sent, with an army of more than 11,000 men, to conquer New York.

He didn't do it any more than Burgoyne did, for Lieutenant Thomas MacDonough was in the way. I am going to tell you how the gallant MacDonough stopped him.

MacDonough was a young man, as Perry was. He had served, as a boy, in the war with Tripoli. In 1806, when he was only twenty years old, he gave a Yankee lesson to a British captain who wanted to carry off an American sailor.

This was at Gibraltar, where British guns were as thick as blackbirds; but the young lieutenant took the man out of the English boat and then dared the captain to try to take him back again. The captain bl.u.s.tered; but he did not try, in spite of all his guns.

In 1813 MacDonough was sent to take care of affairs on Lake Champlain.

No better man could have been sent. He did what Perry had done; he set himself to build ships and get guns and powder and shot and prepare for war. The British were building ships, too, for they wanted to be masters of the lake before they sent their army down. So the sounds of the axe and saw and hammer came before the sound of cannon on the lake.

MacDonough did not let the gra.s.s grow under his feet. When he heard that the British were building a big frigate, he set to work to build a brig. The keel was laid on July 29, and she was launched on August 16--only eighteen days! There must have been some lively jumping about in the wildwoods shipyard just then.

The young commander had no time to waste, for the British were coming.

The great war in Europe with Napoleon was over and England had plenty of ships and men to spare. A flock of her white-winged frigates came sailing over the ocean and swarmed like bees along our coast. And an army of the men who had fought against Napoleon was sent to Canada to invade New York. It was thought the Yankees could not stand long before veterans like these.

Down marched the British army and down sailed the British fleet. But MacDonough was not caught napping. He was ready for the British ships when they came.

[Ill.u.s.tration: BATTLE OF LAKE CHAMPLAIN--MACDONOUGH'S VICTORY.]

And now, before the battle begins, let us give a few names and figures; for these are things you must know. The Americans had four vessels and ten gunboats. The vessels were the ship _Saratoga_, the brig _Eagle_, the schooner _Ticonderoga_, and the sloop _Preble_. The British had the frigate _Confiance_, larger than any of the American ships, the brig _Linnet_, the sloops _Chubb_ and _Finch_, and thirteen gunboats. And the British were better off for guns and men, though the difference was not great. Such were the two fleets that came together on a bright Sunday on September 11, 1814, to see which should be master of Lake Champlain.

The American ships were drawn up across Plattsburg Bay, and up this bay came the British fleet to attack them, just as Carleton's vessels had come up to attack Arnold forty years before.

At Plattsburg was the British army, and opposite, across Saranac River, lay a much smaller force of American regulars and militia. They could easily see the ships, but they were too busy for that, for the soldiers were fighting on land while the sailors were fighting on water. Bad work that for a sunny September Sunday, wasn't it?

MacDonough had stretched his ships in a line across the bay, and had anchors down at bow and stern, with ropes tied to the anchor chains so that the ships could be swung round easily. Remember that, for that won him the battle.

It was still early in the day when the British came sailing up, firing as soon as they came near enough. These first shots did no harm, but they did a comical thing. One of them struck a hen-coop on the _Saratoga_, in which one of the sailors kept a fighting c.o.c.k. The coop was knocked to pieces, and into the rigging flew the brave c.o.c.k, flapping his wings at the British vessels and crowing defiance to them, while the sailors laughed and cheered.

But the battle did not fairly begin until the great frigate _Confiance_ came up and dropped anchor a few hundred yards from the _Saratoga_. Then she blazed away with all the guns on that side of her deck.

This was a terrible broadside, the worst any American ship had felt in the whole war. Every shot hit the _Saratoga_ and tore through her timbers, sending splinters flying like hail. So frightful was the shock that nearly half the crew were thrown to the deck. About forty of them did not get up again; they were either killed or wounded. A few broadsides like that would have ended the fight, for it would have left the _Saratoga_ without men.