On both sides now the cannon roared and the shots flew, but the British guns were the best and the Americans had the worst of it. The commodore was knocked down twice. The last time he was. .h.i.t with the head of a man that had been shot off and came whirling through the air.

"The commodore is killed!" cried the men; but in a trice he was up again, and aiming and firing one of his own guns.

This dreadful work went on for two hours. All that time the two biggest British vessels were pelting the _Saratoga_, and the other American ships were not helping her much. Red-hot shots were fired, which set her on fire more than once.

At the end MacDonough had not a single gun left to fire back. It looked as if all was up with the Americans, all of whose ships were being battered by the enemy. But Commodore MacDonough was not yet at the end of his plans. He now cut loose his stern anchor and bade his men pull on the rope that led to the bow anchor. In a minute the ship began to swing round. Soon she had a new side turned to the foe. Not a gun had been fired on this side. When the British captain saw what the Americans were doing he tried the same thing. But it did not work as well with him. The _Confiance_ began to swing round, but when she got her stern turned to the Americans she stuck fast. Pull and haul as they might, the sailors could not move her another inch.

Here was a splendid chance for the men on the _Saratoga_. They poured their broadsides into the stern of the _Confiance_ and raked her from end to end, while her position was a helpless one. The men fled from the guns. The ship was being torn into splinters. No hope for her was left.

She could not fire a gun. Her captain was dead, but her lieutenant saw that all was over, and down came her flag.

Then the _Saratoga_ turned on the brig _Linnet_ and served her in the same fashion.

That ended the battle. The two sloops had surrendered before, the gunboats were driven away by the _Ticonderoga_, and the hard fight was done. Once more the Americans were victors. Perry had won one lake.

MacDonough had won another.

And that was not the whole of it. For as soon as the American soldiers saw the British flag down and the Stars and Stripes still afloat, they set up a shout that rang back from the Vermont hills.

Sir George Prevost, though he had an army of veterans twice as strong as the American army of militia, broke camp and sneaked away under cover of a storm.

CHAPTER XIX

FOUR NAVAL HEROES IN ONE CHAPTER

FIGHTS WITH THE PIRATES OF THE GULF AND THE CORSAIRS OF THE MEDITERRANEAN

WE have so far been reading the story of legal warfare; now let us turn to that of the wild warfare of the pirate ships. Pirates swarmed during and after the War of 1812, and the United States had its hands full in dealing with them. They haunted the Gulf of Mexico and the Caribbean Sea, and they went back to their old bad work in the Mediterranean. They kept our naval leaders busy enough for a number of years.

The first we shall speak of are the Lafittes, the famous sea-rovers of the Gulf of Mexico. Those men had their hiding places in the lowlands of Louisiana, where there are reedy streams and gra.s.sy islands by the hundreds, winding in and out in a regular network. From these lurking places the pirate ships would dash out to capture vessels and then hurry back to their haunts.

The Lafittes (Jean and Pierre) had a whole fleet of pirate ships, and were so daring that they walked the streets of New Orleans as if that city belonged to them, and boldly sold their stolen goods in its marts, and n.o.body meddled with them.

But the time came when they were attacked in their haunts and the whole gang was broken up. This was near the end of the war, when the government had some ships to spare. After that they helped General Jackson in the celebrated battle of New Orleans, and fought so well that they were forgiven and were thanked for their services.

When the War of 1812 was over many of the privateers became pirates. A privateer, you know, is something like a pirate. He robs one nation, while a pirate robs all. So hundreds of those men became sea-robbers.

After 1814 the seas of the West Indies were full of pirates. There was no end of hiding places among the thousand islands of these seas, where the pirates could bring their prizes and enjoy their wild revels. The warm airs, the ripe fruits and wild game of those sh.o.r.es made life easy and pleasant, and prizes were plentiful on the seas.

When the war ended the United States gained a fine trade with the West Indies. But many of the ships that sailed there did not come home again, though there were no hurricanes to sink them. And some that did come home had been chased by ships that spread the rovers' black flag. So it was plain enough that pirates were at work.

For years they had it their own way, with no one to trouble them. The government for years let them alone. But in time they grew so daring that in 1819 a squadron of warships was sent after them, under Commodore Perry, the hero of Lake Erie. Poor Perry caught the yellow fever and died, and his ships came home without doing anything.

After that the pirates were let alone for two years. Now-a-days they would not have been let alone for two weeks, but things went more slowly then. No doubt the merchants who sent cargoes to sea complained of the dreadful doings of the pirates, but the government did not trouble itself much, and the sea-robbers had their own way until 1821.

By that time it was felt that something must be done, and a small fleet of pirate hunters was sent to the West Indies. It included the famous sloop-of-war _Hornet_, the one which had fought the _Peac.o.c.k_, and the brig _Enterprise_, which Decatur had been captain of in the Moorish war.

The pirates were brave enough when they had only merchant ships to deal with, but they acted like cowards when they found warships on their track. They fled in all directions, and many of their ships and barges were taken. After that they kept quiet for a time, but soon they were at their old work again.

In 1823 Captain David Porter, he who had fought so well in the _Ess.e.x_, was sent against them. The brave young Farragut was with him. He brought a number of barges and small vessels, so that he could follow the sea-robbers into their hiding places.

One of these places was found at Cape Cruz, on Porto Rico. Here the pirate captain and his men fought like tigers, and the captain's wife stood by his side and fought as fiercely as he did. After the fight was over the sailors found a number of caves used by the pirates. In some of them were great bales of goods, and in others heaps of human bones. All this told a dreadful story of robbery and murder.

Another fight took place at a haunt of pirates on the coast of Cuba, where Lieutenant Allen, a navy officer, had been killed the year before in an attack on the sea-robbers.

Here there were over seventy pirates and only thirty-one Americans. But the sailors cried "Remember Allen!" and dashed so fiercely at the pirate vessels, that the cowardly crews jumped overboard and tried to swim ash.o.r.e. But the hot-blooded sailors rowed in among them and cut fiercely with their cutla.s.ses, so that hardly any of them escaped. Their leader, who was named Diabolito, or "Little Devil," was one of the killed.

In this way the pirate hordes were broken up, after they had robbed and murdered among the beautiful West India islands for many years. After that defeat they gave no more trouble. Among the pirates was Jean Lafitte, one of the Lafitte brothers, of whose doings you have read above. After the battle of New Orleans he went to Texas, and in time became a pirate captain again. As late as 1822 his name was the terror of the Gulf. Then he disappeared and no one knew what had become of him.

He may have died in battle or have gone down in storm.

But the pirates of the West Indies and the Gulf were not the only ones the United States had to deal with. You have read the story of the Moorish corsairs and of the fighting at Tripoli. Now I have something more to tell about them; for when they heard that the United States was at war with England, they tried their old tricks again, capturing American sailors and selling them for slaves.

They had their own way until the war was over. Then two squadrons of war vessels were sent to the Mediterranean, one under Commodore Bainbridge, who had commanded the _Const.i.tution_ when she fought the _Java_, and the other under Commodore Decatur, the gallant sailor who had burned the _Philadelphia_ in the harbor of Tripoli.

Decatur got there first, and it did not take him long to bring the Moors to their senses. The trouble this time was with Algiers, not with Tripoli. Algiers was one of the strongest of the Moorish states.

On the 15th of June, 1815, Decatur came in sight of the most powerful of the Algerine ships, a forty-six gun frigate, the _Mashouda_. Its commander was Rais Hammida, a fierce and daring fellow, who was called "the terror of the Mediterranean." He had risen from the lowest to the highest place in the navy, and had often shown his valor in battle. But his time for defeat had now come.

When the Moorish admiral found himself amid a whole squadron of American warships, he set sail with all speed and made a wild dash for Algiers.

But he had faster ships in his track and was soon headed off.

The bold fellow had no chance at all, with half-a-dozen great ships around him, but he made a fine fight for his life. He did not save either his ship or his life, for a cannon ball cut him squarely in two; and when his lieutenant tried to run away, he came across the brig _Epervier_, which soon settled him. But the _Mashouda_ had made a good fight against big odds, and deserved praise.

After that another Algerian ship was taken, and then Decatur sailed for Algiers. When he made signals the captain of the port came out. A black-bearded, high and mighty fellow he was.

"Where is your navy?" asked Decatur.

"It's all right," said the Algerian, "safe in some friendly port."

"Not all of it, I fancy," said Decatur. "I have your frigate _Mashouda_ and your brig _Estido_, and your admiral Hammida is killed."

"I don't believe it," said the Algerian.

"I can easily prove it," said Decatur, and he sent for the first lieutenant of the _Mashouda_.

When the captain of the port saw him and heard his story, he changed his tone. His haughty manner pa.s.sed away, and he begged that fighting should cease until a treaty could be made on sh.o.r.e.

"Fighting will not cease until I have the treaty," said Decatur, sternly; "and a treaty will not be made anywhere but on board my ship."

And so it was. The captain of the port came out next day with authority to make a treaty. But the captain did not want to return the property taken from the American ships, saying that it had been scattered among many hands.

"I can't help that. It must be returned or paid for," said Decatur.

Then the captain did not want to pay $10,000 for a vessel that had been captured, and he wanted tribute from the United States. He told Decatur what a great man his master, "Omar the Terrible," was, and asked for a three hours truce.

"Not a minute," said Decatur. "If your ships appear before the treaty is signed by the Dey, and the American prisoners are on board my ship, I shall capture every one of them."