CHAPTER III.

Attempt to Escape - Flogging - Ship St. Salvadore - Attempt to Swim Away - Rodney 74 - Spanish War Ship - A Levanter - Image Worship - Another Attempt for Freedom -Battle - Storm -Shipwreck - Blockading Squadron -Church Service on Board a King's Ship - Port Mahon - Subterranean Passage - Holy-stone - Wash Days - Threatened Punishment - Storm - New Station.

In a few days we came to Plymouth, where we were re-examined, and all such as were pronounced in good condition for service in the British navy were transferred to one of their largest-sized stationary ships, called the "Saint Salvadore Del Mondo." On this monstrous floating castle were fifteen hundred persons in the same condition as myself.

Here, in conversation with a young man from Massachusetts, we agreed to try to make our escape if we perished in the attempt. We prepared us a rope, and closely watched the soldiers and sailors on guard till they were being relieved from their posts at midnight. We then raised the "hanging port" about eighteen inches, and put the "tackle fall" into the hands of a friend in the secret, to lower it down when we were beyond the reach of the musket balls. Our rope and blanket, about thirty feet long, reached the water. Forbes, my companion, whispered, "Will you follow?" I replied, "Yes." By the time he reached the water, I was slipping down after him, when the alarm ran through the ship, "A man overboard." Our friend dropped the "port" for fear of being detected, which left me exposed to the fire of the sentinels. But I was soon in the water, and swam to a hiding-place under the "accommodation ladder" by the time the boats were manned with lanterns to hunt us out. We watched for an opportunity to take an opposite direction from our pursuers, who were repeatedly hailed from the ship to know if they had found any one. We had about three miles to swim with our clothes on, except our jackets and shoes; these I had fastened on the back of my neck to screen me from a chance shot from the ship. An officer with men and lanterns descended the accommodation ladder, and sliding his hand over the "slat" he touched my hand, and immediately shouted, "Here is one of them! Come out of that, you sir! Here is another! Come out, you sir!" We swam round to them, and were drawn upon the stage. "Who are you?" demanded the officer. "An American." "How dare you undertake to swim away from the ship? Did you not know that you were liable to be shot?" I answered that I was not a subject of King George, and had done this to gain my liberty. "Bring them up here!" was the order from the ship. After another examination we were put into close confinement with a number of criminals awaiting their punishment.

I now began to learn something of the nature of my punishment for attempting in a quiet and peaceable manner to quit His Majesty's service. In the commanding officer's view this seemed to amount to an unpardonable crime, and one never to be forgotten. In a few hours the Rodney, under a cloud of sail, was leaving old Plymouth in the distance, steering for the French coast to make war with the Frenchmen. "Hope deferred makes the heart sick;" thus my hope of freedom from this oppressive state seemed to wane from my view like the land we were leaving in the distance.

As our final destination was to join the British squadron in the Gulf of Lyons, in the Mediterranean Sea, we made a stop at Cadiz, in Spain. Here the French troops of Napoleon Bonaparte were bombarding the city and British and Spanish ships of war in the harbor. These comprised a part of the Spanish fleet that finally escaped from the battle of Trafalgar, under Lord Nelson, in 1805, and were now to be refitted by their ally, the English, and sail for Port Mahon in the Mediterranean. Unexpectedly, I was one of fifty selected to refit and man one of them, the "Apollo." A few days after passing the Straits of Gibraltar, we encountered a most violent gale of wind called a "levanter," common in those seas, which caused our ship to labor so excessively that it was with the utmost exertion at the pumps that we kept her from sinking. We were finally favored to return back to Gibraltar and refit.

A number of Spanish officers with their families still belonged to the ship. It was wonderful and strange to us to see how tenaciously these people hung around their images, surrounded with burning wax candles, as though they could save them in this perilous hour, when nothing short of our continual labor at the pumps prevented the ship from sinking with us all.

After refitting at Gibraltar, we sailed again, and arrived safely at the island of Mahon. Here I made another attempt to regain my liberty with two others, by inducing a native to take us to land in his market boat. After some two days and nights of fruitless labor to escape from the island by boats or otherwise, or from those who were well paid for apprehending deserters, we deemed it best to venture back. Our voluntary return to the ship was finally accepted as evidence that we did not design to desert from the service of King George III. Thus we escaped from being publicly whipped.

After the gale we joined the British fleet, consisting of about thirty line-of-battle ships, carrying from eighty to one hundred and thirty guns apiece, besides frigates and sloops of war. Our work was to blockade a much larger fleet of French men-of-war, mostly in the harbor of Toulon. With these we occasionally had skirmishes, or running fights. The French squadron was not prepared, neither disposed, to meet the English fleet in battle.

To improve our mental faculties, when we had a few leisure moments from ship duty and naval tactics, we were furnished with a library of two choice books for every ten men. We had seventy of these libraries in all. The first book was an abridgement of the life of Lord Nelson, calculated to inspire the mind to deeds of valor, and to teach the most summary way of disposing of an unyielding enemy. This, one of the ten men could read, when he had leisure, during the last six days of each week. The second was a small Church-of-England prayer-book, for special use about one hour on the first day of the week.

CHURCH SERVICE ON BOARD A KING'S SHIP.

At that time I felt a wicked spirit toward those who deprived me of my liberty, and held me in this state of oppression, and required me in their way to serve God, and honor their king. But I thank God, who teaches us to forgive and love our enemies, that through his rich mercy, in Jesus Christ, I have since found forgiveness of my sins; that all such feelings are subdued, and my only wish is, that I could teach them the way of life and salvation.

The winter rendezvous of the Mediterranean British squadron was in the Isle of Minorca, harbor of Port Mahon. Sailing, after the middle of the seventh month, is dangerous. See St. Paul's testimony, Acts 27:9, 10.

While endeavoring to escape the vigilance of our pursuers, after we stepped out of the Spaniard's market boat, as before narrated, away beyond the city, at the base of a rocky mountain, we discovered a wooden door, which we opened; and away in the distance it appeared quite light. We ventured on through this subterranean passage till we came to a large open space, where the light was shining down through a small hole wrought from the top of the mountain down through the dome. This subterranean passage continued on in a winding direction, which we attemped to explore as far as we dared to for the want of light to return to the center. On both sides of this main road we discovered similar passages all beyond our exploration. Afterward we were told that this mountain had been excavated in past ages for the purpose of sheltering a besieged army. In the center, or light place, was a large house chiseled out of a rock, with doorway and window frames, designed undoubtedly for the officers of the besieged, and rallying place of the army.

After a close survey of this wonderful place, we became satisfied that we had now found a secure retreat from our pursuers, where we could breathe and talk aloud without fear of being heard, or seized by any of the subjects of King George III. But alas! our joy soon vanished when we thought again that there was nothing for us to eat.

When we ventured to a farm-house to seek for bread, the people eyed us with suspicion, and fearing they would seize us, and hand us over to our pursuers, we avoided them, until we became satisfied that it was in vain to attempt an escape from this place, and so we returned to the ship. The stone of this mountain is a kind of sandstone, much harder than chalk, called "holy-stone," which is abundant on the island, and made use of by the British squadron to scour or holy-stone the decks with every morning to make them white and clean.

In the mild seasons, the sailors' uniform was white duck frocks and trowsers, and straw hats. The discipline was to muster all hands at nine o'clock in the morning, and if our dress was reported soiled or unclean, then all such were doomed to have their names put on the "black list," and required to do all kinds of scouring brass, iron, and filthy work, in addition to their stated duty, depriving them of their allotted time for rest and sleep in their morning watch below. There was no punishment more dreaded and disgraceful than this, to which we were daily liable.

If sufficient changes of dress had been allowed us, and sufficient time to wash and dry the same, it would have been a great pleasure, and also a benefit to us, to have appeared daily with unsoiled white dresses on, notwithstanding the dirty work we had to perform. I do not remember of ever being allowed more than three suits at one time to make changes, and then we had only one day in the week to cleanse them; viz., about two hours before daylight once a week, all hands (about seven hundred) were called on the upper decks to wash and scrub clothes. Not more than three-quarters of these could be accommodated to do this work for themselves at a time; but no matter, when daylight came, at the expiration of the two hours we were ordered to hang all washed clothes on the clothes-lines immediately. Some would say, "I have not been able to get water nor a place to wash mine yet." "I can't help that! clear out your clothes, and begin to holy-stone and wash the decks." Orders were most strict, that whoever should be found drying his clothes at any other but this time in the wash day, should be punished.

To avoid detection and punishment, I have scrubbed my trowsers early in the morning, and put them on and dried them. Not liking this method, I ventured at one time to hang up my wet trowsers in a concealed place behind the maintop sail; but the sail was ordered to be furled in a hurry, and the lieutenant discovered them. The maintop men (about fifty) were immediately ordered from their dinner hour to appear on the quarter-deck. "All here, sir," said the under-officer that mustered us. "Very well, whose trowsers are these found hanging in the maintop?" I stepped forward from the ranks and said, "They are mine, sir." "Yours, are they? you ___ ___!" and when he had finished cursing me, he asked me how they came there. "I hung them there to dry, sir." "You ___ ___, see how I will hang you, directly. Go down to your dinner, the rest of you," said he, "and call the chief boatswain's mate up here." Up he came in great haste from his dinner. "Have you got a rope's end in your pocket?" He began to feel, and said, "No, sir." "Then away down below directly and get one, and give that fellow there one of the ___ floggings he ever had." "Yes, sir, bear a hand."

Thus far I had escaped all his threats of punishment, from my first introduction into the ship. I had often applied for more clothes to enable me to muster with a clean dress, but had been refused. I expected now, according to his threats, that he would wreak his vengeance on me by having the flesh cut off my back for attempting to have a clean dress, when he knew I could not have it without venturing some way as I had done.

In this position, the devil, the enemy of all righteousness, tempted me to seek a summary redress of my grievances; viz., if he followed me and persisted in inflicting on me the threatened punishment, to grasp him and plunge into the water. Of the many that stood above looking on, none spoke to me, that I remember, but my pursuer. To the best of my memory, I remained in this position more than an hour. To the wonder of myself and others, the lieutenant issued no orders respecting me, neither questioned me afterward, only the next morning I learned that I was numbered with the black-list men for about six months. Thanks to the Father of all mercies for delivering me from premeditated destruction by his overruling providence in that trying hour.

Ships belonging to the blockading squadron in the Mediterranean Sea were generally relieved and returned to England at the expiration of three years; then the sailors were paid their wages, and twenty-four hours' liberty given them to spend their money on shore. As the Rodney was now on her third year out, my strong hope of freedom from the British yoke would often cheer me while looking forward to that one day's liberty, in the which I was resolving to put forth every energy of my being to gain my freedom. About this time the fleet encountered a most dreadful storm in the Gulf of Lyons. For awhile it was doubted whether any of us would ever see the rising of another sun. Those huge ships would rise like mountains on the top of the coming sea, and suddenly tumble again in the trough of the same, with such a dreadful crash that it seemed almost impossible they could ever rise again. They became unmanageable, and the mariners were at their wits' end. See the psalmist's description, Ps. 107:23-30.

CHAPTER IV.

Impressing American Seamen - Documents of Citizenship - War - Voluntary Surrender as Prisoners of War - Preparation for a Battle - Unjust Treatment - Close Confinement - Relieved British Fleet Outgeneraled - Prisoners Sent to England - London Newspaper - Successful Movement - Without Bread.

One of the most prominent causes of our last war with England, in 1812, was her oppressive and unjust acts in impressing American seamen on sea or land, wherever they could be found. This was denied by one political party in the United States. The British government also continued to deny the fact, and regard the passports, or protection, of American citizens of but little importance. Such proofs of American citizenship were required by them as were not very readily obtained. Hence their continued acts of aggression until the war. Another additional and grievous act was, that all letters to friends were required to be examined by the first lieutenant before leaving the ship. By accident I found one of mine torn and thrown aside, hence the impossibility of my parents' learning even that I was among the living. With as genuine a protection as could be obtained from the collector of the custom-house at New York, I nevertheless was passed off for an Irishman, because an Irish officer declared that my parents lived in Belfast, Ireland.

Previous to the war of 1812, one of my letters reached my father. He wrote to the President of the United States (Mr. Madison), presenting him with the facts in my case, and for proof of his own citizenship referred him to the archives in the War Department for his commissions returned and deposited there after his services closed with the Revolutionary War. The president's reply and documents were satisfactory. Gen. Brooks, then governor of Massachusetts, who was intimately acquainted with my father as a captain under his immediate command in the Revolutionary War, added to the foregoing another strong document.

Capt. C. Delano, townsman and friend of my father, preparing for a voyage to Minorca, in the Mediterranean, generously offered his services as bearer of the above-named documents, and so sanguine was he that no other proof would be required, that he really expected to bring me with him on his return voyage.

On his arrival at Port Mahon, he was rejoiced to learn that the Rodney, 74, was in port. As he approached the R. in his boat, he was asked what he wanted. He said he wished to see a young man by the name of Joseph Bates. The lieutenant forbade his coming alongside. Finally, one of the under-officers, a friend of mine, informed him that I had been transferred to the Swiftshore, 74, and that she had sailed to join the British fleet off Toulon. Capt. D. then presented my documents to the United States consul, who transmitted them to Sir Edward Pelew, the commander-in-chief of the squadron. On the arrival of the mail, I received a letter from Capt. D., informing me of his arrival and visit to the R., his disappointment, and what he had done, and of the anxiety of my parents. I think this was the first intelligence from home for over three years.

I was told that the captain had sent for me to see him on the quarter-deck. I saw that he was surrounded by signal men and officers, replying by signal flags to the admiral's ship, which was some distance from us. Said the captain, "Is your name Joseph Bates?" "Yes, sir." "Are you an American?" "Yes, sir." " To what part of America do you belong?" "New Bedford, in Massachusetts, sir." Said he, "The admiral is inquiring to know if you are on board this ship. He will probably send for you," or something of the like import. "You may go below." The news spread throughout the ship that Bates was an American, and his government had demanded his release, and the commander-in-chief was signalizing our ship about it, etc. What a lucky fellow he was, etc.

Weeks and months rolled away, however, bringing nothing but anxious suspense and uncertainty in my case, till at length I received another letter from Capt. D., informing me that my case was still hanging in uncertainty. It was probable that war had commenced, and as he was obliged to leave, he advised me, if I could not obtain an honorable discharge, to become a prisoner of war.

It was now the fall of 1812. On our arrival at Port Mahon to winter, the British consul sent me what money I then needed, saying that it was Capt. D.'s request that he should furnish me with money and clothing while I needed. Owing to sickness in the fleet, it was ordered that each ship's company should have 24 hours' liberty on shore. I improved this opportunity to call at the offices of the British and American consuls. The former furnished me with some more money. The latter said that the admiral had done nothing in my case, and now it was too late, for it was ascertained that war was declared between the United States and Great Britian.

There were about two hundred Americans on board the ships in our squadron, and twenty-two on board the Swiftshore. We had ventured several times to say what we ought to do, but the result appeared to some very doubtful. At last some six of us united and walked to the quarter-deck with our hats in hand, and thus addressed the first lieutenant:--

"We understand, sir, that war has commenced between Great Britain and the United States, and we do not wish to be found fighting against our own country; therefore it is our wish to become prisoners of war." "Go below," said he. At dinner hour all the Americans were ordered between the pumps, and not permitted to associate with the crew. Our scanty allowance was ordered to be reduced one-third, and no strong drink. This we felt we could endure, and were not a little comforted that we had made one effectual change, and the next would most likely free us from the British navy.

From our ship the work spread, until about all the Americans in the fleet became prisoners of war. During eight dreary months we were thus retained, and frequently called upon the quarter-deck, where we were harangued, and urged to enter the British navy. I had already suffered on for thirty months an unwilling subject; I was therefore fully decided not to listen to any proposal they could make.

A few months after our becoming prisoners of war, our lookout ships appeared off the harbor, and signalized that the French fleet (which we were attempting to blockade) were all out and making the best of their way down the Mediterranean. With this startling information orders were immediately issued for the squadron to be ready to proceed in pursuit of them at an early hour in the morning. The most of the night was spent preparing for this expected onset. The prisoners were invited to assist. I alone refused to aid or assist in any way whatever, it being unjustifiable except when forced to do so.

The lieutenant then changed his mind, and ordered him to come up and make me a close prisoner in the gun-room, and not allow me to come near any one, nor even to speak with one of my countrymen. With this he hurried up on the upper gun-deck, where orders were given to throw all the hammocks and bags into the ship's hold, break down all cabin and berth partitions, break up and throw overboard all the cow and sheep pens, and clear the deck fore and aft for action. Every ship was now in its station for battle, rushing across the Mediterranean for the Turkish shore, watching to see and grapple with their deadly foe.

When all the preparation was made for battle, one of my countrymen, in the absence of the master-at-arms, ventured to speak with me through the musket gratings of the gun-room, to warn me of the perilous position I should be placed in when the French fleet hove in sight, unless I submitted, and acknowledged myself ready to take my former station (second captain of one of the big guns on the fore-castle), and fight the Frenchmen, as he and the rest of my countrymen were about to do. I endeavored to show him how unjustifiable and inconsistent such a course would be for us as prisoners of war, and assured him that my mind was fully and clearly settled to adhere to our position as American prisoners of war, notwithstanding the perilous position I was to be placed in.

In the course of a few hours, after the lieutenant had finished his arrangements for battle, he came down to my prison-room. "Well, sir," said he, "will you take up a hammock when you are ordered again?" I replied that I would take one up for any gentleman in the ship. "You would, ha?" "Yes, sir." Without inquiring who I considered gentlemen, he ordered me released. My countrymen were somewhat surprised to see me so soon a prisoner at large.

The first lieutenant is next in command to the captain, and presides over all the duties of the ship during the day, and keeps no watch, whereas all other officers do. As we had not yet seen the French fleet, the first lieutenant was aware that my case would have to be reported to the captain; in which case if I, as an acknowledged prisoner of war, belonging to the United States, were allowed to answer for myself, his unlawful, abusive, and ungentlemanly conduct would come to the captain's knowledge. Hence his willingness to release me.

The British fleet continued their course across the Mediterranean for the Turkish coast, until they were satisfied that the French fleet was not to the west of them. They then steered north and east (to meet them), until we arrived off the harbor of Toulon, where we saw them all snugly moored, and dismantled in their old winter quarters; their officers and crews undoubtedly highly gratified that the ruse they had practiced had so well effected their design, viz., to start the British squadron out of their snug winter quarters to hunt for them over the Mediterranean Sea. They had remantled, and sailed out of their harbor, and chased our few lookout ships a distance down the Mediterranean, and then, unperceived by them, returned and dismantled again.

Our daily allowance of bread consisted of coarse brown loaves from the bakery, served out every morning. At the commencement of the severe cold weather, a quantity of ship biscuit was deposited on board for our use in case the weather or ice should prevent the soft bread from coming daily. In the spring, our first lieutenant or commander ordered the biscuit to be served out to the prisoners, and directed that one-quarter of the daily allowance should be deducted, because nine ounces of biscuit were equal to twelve ounces of soft bread. We utterly refused to receive the biscuit, or hard bread, unless he would allow us as many ounces as he had of the soft. At the close of the day he wished to know again if we would receive the bread on his terms. "No! no!" "Then I will keep you below until you comply." Hatchways unlocked in the morning again. "Will you come up for your bread?" "No!" At noon again, "Will you have your meat that is cooked for you?" "No!" "Will you come up for your water?" "No; we will have nothing from you until you serve us out our full allowance of bread." To make us comply, the port-holes had been closed, thus depriving us of light and fresh air. Our president had also been called up and conferred with (we had a president and committee of twelve chosen, as we found it necessary to keep some kind of order). He told the commander that the prisoners would not yield.

By this time, hunger and the want of water, and especially fresh air, had thrown us into a state of feverish excitement. Some appeared almost savage, others endeavored to bear it as well as they could. The president was called for again. After awhile the port where he messed was thrown open, and two officers from the hatchway came down on the lower deck and passed to his table, inquiring for the president's trunk. "What do you want with it?" said his friends. "The commander has sent us for it." "What for?" "He is going to send him on board the next prison ship." "Do you drop it! He shall not have it!" By this time the officers became alarmed for their safety, and attempted to make their escape up the ladder to the hatchway. A number of the prisoners, who seemed fired with desperation, stopped them, and declared on the peril of their lives that they should go no farther until the president was permitted to come down. Other port holes were now thrown open, and the commander appeared at one of them, demanding the release of his officers. The reply from within was, "When you release our president we will release your officers." "If you do not release them," said the commander, "I will open these ports [all of them grated with heavy bars of iron] and fire in upon you." "Fire away!" was the cry from within, "we may as well die this way as by famine; but, mark, if you kill one prisoner we will have two for one as long as they last." His officers now began to beg him most pitifully not to fire, "for if you do," said they, "they will kill us; they stand here around us with their knives open, declaring if we stir one foot they will take our lives."

Double-plank bulk-heads at each end of our prison rooms, with musket holes in them to fire in upon us if necessary, separated us from the officers, sailors, and soldiers. Again we were asked if we would receive our allowance of bread. "No." Some threats were thrown out by the prisoners that the commander would hear from us before morning. About ten o'clock at night, when all were quiet but the guard and watch on deck, a torch-light was got up by setting some soap grease on fire in tin pans. By the aid of this light, a heavy oak stanchion was taken down, which served us for a battering-ram. Then, with our large, empty, tin water cans for drums, and tin pails, kettles, pans, pots, and spoons for drum-sticks, and whatever would make a stunning noise, the torch-lights and battering-ram moved onward to the after bulk-head that separated us from the commander and his officers, soldiers and their families. For a few moments the ram was applied with power, and so successfully that consternation seized the sleepers, and they fled, crying for help, declaring that the prisoners were breaking through upon them. Without stopping for them to rally and fire in upon us, a rush was made for the forward bulk-head, where a portion of the ship's company, with their families, lived. The application of the battering-ram was quite as successful here, so that all our enemies were now as wide awake as their hungry, starving prisoners, devising the best means for their defense. Here our torch-lights went out, leaving us in total darkness in the midst of our so-far-successful operations. We grouped together in huddles, to sleep, if our enemies would allow us, until another day should dawn to enable us to use our little remaining strength in obtaining, if possible, our full allowance of bread and water.

The welcome fresh air and morning light came suddenly upon us by an order from the commander to open our port-holes, unbar the hatchways, and call the prisoners up to get their bread. In a few moments it was clearly understood that our enemies had capitulated by yielding to our terms, and were now ready to make peace by serving us with our full allowance of bread.

While one from each mess of ten was up getting their three days' allowance of brown loaves, others were up to the tank filling their tin cans with water, so that in a short space of time, a great and wonderful change had taken place in our midst. On most amicable terms of peace with all our keepers, grouped in messes of ten, with three days' allowance of bread, and cans filled with water, we ate and drank, laughed and shouted immoderately over our great feast and vanquished foe. The wonder was that we did not kill ourselves with over-eating and drinking.

The commissary, on hearing the state of things in our midst, sent orders from the shore to the commander, to serve out our bread forthwith.