THE TERRIER AND THE MASTIFF
The first of the great American captains to give his life to the cause of liberty was Nicholas Biddle. And the action in which he lost it is the finest example of daring and hardihood in the little known pages of naval history. His part in that glorious action must ever remain unknown as to its details since but five out of his crew remained alive to tell of it, and we are chiefly indebted to the British accounts for the information which has been handed down.
Nicholas Biddle began his naval career by being shipwrecked on a desert shoal at the age of thirteen. But being rescued, with his four companions, at the end of two months, his ardor was so little dampened that as soon as opportunity offered he immediately went forth in search of further adventures on the sea. A war between England and Spain being imminent, he went to London, and succeeded in getting a midshipman’s warrant on the ship of Captain—afterwards Admiral—Sterling.
But just before the declaration of independence of his own country, a voyage of discovery to the North Pole was proposed by the Royal Geographical Society, and this opportunity seemed to hold forth infinitely more possibilities for advancement than the daily port routine of a British frigate of war.
So, Admiral Sterling refusing Biddle’s mild request to be transferred to one of the vessels, the young man took it upon himself to doff his gold-laced uniform and present himself upon the “Carcase” in very shabby sailor clothes, upon which he was forthwith entered upon her books as a sailor before the mast. He was in glorious company, though, for Horatio Nelson—afterwards to be the greatest admiral England has ever known—shared his humble lot as a jacky, although his prospects in the service were more brilliant than Biddle’s. The expedition, having accomplished its purpose, returned to England in 1774, both young Nelson and Biddle having been appointed coxswains for meritorious service.
When hostilities in the United States began, Biddle, of course, resigned from the British navy and offered his services to the Continental Congress. His first commission was the command of the “Camden,” a galley fitted out by the State of Pennsylvania for the defence of the Delaware River. He was then made a captain in the naval service, and took command of the “Andrew Doria,” of fourteen guns and one hundred and thirty men.
Just before Commodore Hopkins’s fleet hoisted anchor, Biddle had an opportunity to show his intrepidity in a very personal way. Two men who had deserted from his vessel had been taken and were placed in prison at Lewistown. Biddle sent an officer and a squad of men ashore to bring them off. But the officer returned to the ship and reported that the deserters had joined with the other prisoners, and barricaded the door, swearing that no man alive would take them. Biddle put on his side-arms and, taking only a young midshipman with him, went at once to the prison. The door was tightly barred from the inside, and the prisoners, led by one of the deserters named Green, shook their fists and pointed their weapons at him. Some of the more venturesome of the townsfolk, who only needed a resolute leader, now smashed down the door at the naval officer’s directions, and Biddle, drawing both his pistols, quickly stepped within the opening. Green stood in front of his ill-favored companions, his eye gleaming villanously down the barrel of his flint-lock. Without moving his eye from the man, and planting himself squarely in the doorway, Biddle said, steadily,—
“Now, Green, if you don’t take good aim, you are a dead man!”
There was a moment’s pause, after which the pistol fell a little, and finally, under the resolute attitude of his captain, the fellow broke down. He was completely awed, and at Biddle’s command dropped his pistol to the floor and allowed himself to be conducted to the ship. Their leader cowed, the remainder of the prisoners permitted the Lewistown militia, who had recovered from their fright, to come in and make them fast again.
This incident had its moral effect upon his men, and never again, when they learned to know him, was Biddle troubled with disaffection among his crew. The fury with which they went into the fights that followed showed how much he was a man after their own hearts.