|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 7
On the third of July, Washington arrived from the South to take the
command. Israel witnessed his joyful reception by the huzzaing
companies.
The British now quartered in Boston suffered greatly from the scarcity
of provisions. Washington took every precaution to prevent their
receiving a supply. Inland, all aid could easily be cut off. To guard
against their receiving any by water, from tories and other disaffected
persons, the General equipped three armed vessels to intercept all
traitorous cruisers. Among them was the brigantine Washington, of ten
guns, commanded by Captain Martiedale. Seamen were hard to be had. The
soldiers were called upon to volunteer for these vessels. Israel was one
who so did; thinking that as an experienced sailor he should not be
backward in a juncture like this, little as he fancied the new service
assigned.
Three days out of Boston harbor, the brigantine was captured by the
enemy's ship Foy, of twenty guns. Taken prisoner with the rest of the
crew, Israel was afterwards put on board the frigate Tartar, with
immediate sailing orders for England. Seventy-two were captives in this
vessel. Headed by Israel, these men--half way across the sea--formed a
scheme to take the ship, but were betrayed by a renegade Englishman. As
ringleader, Israel was put in irons, and so remained till the frigate
anchored at Portsmouth. There he was brought on deck; and would have met
perhaps some terrible fate, had it not come out, during the examination,
that the Englishman had been a deserter from the army of his native
country ere proving a traitor to his adopted one. Relieved of his irons,
Israel was placed in the marine hospital on shore, where half of the
prisoners took the small-pox, which swept off a third of their number.
Why talk of Jaffa?
From the hospital the survivors were conveyed to Spithead, and thrust on
board a hulk. And here in the black bowels of the ship, sunk low in the
sunless sea, our poor Israel lay for a month, like Jonah in the belly
of the whale.
But one bright morning, Israel is hailed from the deck. A bargeman of
the commander's boat is sick. Known for a sailor, Israel for the nonce
is appointed to pull the absent man's oar.
The officers being landed, some of the crew propose, like merry
Englishmen as they are, to hie to a neighboring ale-house, and have a
cosy pot or two together. Agreed. They start, and Israel with them. As
they enter the ale-house door, our prisoner is suddenly reminded of
still more imperative calls. Unsuspected of any design, he is allowed to
leave the party for a moment. No sooner does Israel see his companions
housed, than putting speed into his feet, and letting grow all his
wings, he starts like a deer. He runs four miles (so he afterwards
affirmed) without halting. He sped towards London; wisely deeming that
once in that crowd detection would be impossible.
Ten miles, as he computed, from where he had left the bargemen,
leisurely passing a public house of a little village on the roadside,
thinking himself now pretty safe--hark, what is this he hears?--
"Ahoy!"
"No ship," says Israel, hurrying on.
"Stop."
"If you will attend to your business, I will endeavor to attend to
mine," replies Israel coolly. And next minute he lets grow his wings
again; flying, one dare say, at the rate of something less than thirty
miles an hour.
"Stop thief!" is now the cry. Numbers rushed from the roadside houses.
After a mile's chase, the poor panting deer is caught.
Finding it was no use now to prevaricate, Israel boldly confesses
himself a prisoner-of-war. The officer, a good fellow as it turned out,
had him escorted back to the inn; where, observing to the landlord that
this must needs be a true-blooded Yankee, he calls for liquors to
refresh Israel after his run. Two soldiers are then appointed to guard
him for the present. This was towards evening; and up to a late hour at
night, the inn was filled with strangers crowding to see the Yankee
rebel, as they politely termed him. These honest rustics seemed to think
that Yankees were a sort of wild creatures, a species of 'possum or
kangaroo. But Israel is very affable with them. That liquor he drank
from the hand of his foe, has perhaps warmed his heart towards all the
rest of his enemies. Yet this may not be wholly so. We shall see. At any
rate, still he keeps his eye on the main chance--escape. Neither the
jokes nor the insults of the mob does he suffer to molest him. He is
cogitating a little plot to himself.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|