“You may soon find to the contrary,” shouted the captain, who was letting his temper get the best of him. “I have a mind to send you to Admiral Mello as a prisoner. You know what he would do to you.”
“Oh, Captain Lang,” I said jeeringly, “you know you wouldn’t do that.”
“And pray why not, sir?”
“Because you dare not do it, and that’s why,” I told him, as I pointed at the “Charleston” which, with her decks cleared for action, was anchored only a few hundred yards off to port. “I dare you to do it. I defy you to do it. Send me aboard the ‘Aquidaban’ if you dare.” I was making a strong bluff and I got away with it. The outraged Britisher swelled up with anger and turned almost purple, but he did not reply to my taunt. Instead, he summoned the master at arms and placed me in his charge, ordered his launch, and dashed off to the “Charleston.” He returned in half an hour and, without another word to me, ordered a lieutenant to take me aboard the “Charleston.”
I will not deny that I was a bit easier in my mind when I saw my own flag flying over me, yet had I known the treatment I was to receive under it, I would have felt quite differently.
It was easy to see, from the reception which Captain Picking gave me, that he had been influenced by the attitude of Captain Lang, for he took about the same view of my action. I told him that I was an American citizen, temporarily in the employment of the Brazilian Government, as were several other Americans who loved fighting and excitement; that I had violated no law of the United States or of Brazil, and I demanded that I be set ashore. He coldly informed me that I would be confined to the ship, at least until he had consulted with the American Minister and communicated with Washington. Not only did Picking regard Mello as a rebel rather than a pirate but he went even farther and recognized him as a belligerent, which meant that he was entitled to all the rights of war. This opinion was shaped, undoubtedly, by the royalist commanders in the harbor, whose superior rank seemed to have a hypnotic effect on Picking, and their influence over him was so strong that soon after I arrived on the “Charleston” I was confined to my room, as a dangerous character and a man who threatened the peace of nations. With this decidedly unpleasant recollection, however, it is a pleasure to know that the other American naval officers, who arrived later, took exactly my view of the whole situation and became champions of my cause. They told Picking that Mello was a pirate and should be treated as such, and that I was being deprived of my liberty without the slightest warrant of law, but they were powerless to accomplish my release, as Picking was in command, as the senior officer present, and all of the correspondence with Washington was conducted through him. Captain Terry, though he never had met me and could not be charged with having his opinion biassed by any personal relation, was especially vigorous in urging that I be released and that Mello’s farcical revolution be suppressed without further ceremony. He denounced my detention as a disgrace to the American Navy and though he and Picking had been bosom friends up to that time, a coolness developed between them, on account of the manner in which I was treated, that continued until Picking’s death, years later.
The manner in which that old fighter, Rear Admiral Benham, put an end to the “revolution” in the following January, soon after his arrival at Rio, should be well remembered, for it was a noble deed and an example of the good judgment generally displayed by American naval officers when they are not hampered by foolish orders from Washington. In the vain hope of arousing enthusiasm in his lost cause, Mello had gone down the coast, where he figuratively and literally took to the woods when he saw the folly of his mission, leaving Da Gama in command of the blockading fleet. The captains of several American merchant ships, who had been prevented for weeks from landing their cargoes for Rio, appealed to Admiral Benham who took prompt action. To show his contempt for the rebels, whom he properly regarded as pirates, making no secret of the fact, Admiral Benham assigned the smallest ship in his squadron, the little “Detroit,” commanded by that great little man, Commander (now Rear Admiral, retired) W. H. Brownson, to escort the merchantmen up to the docks. At the same time he warned Da Gama not to carry out his threat to fire on them when they crossed his line. With his ship cleared for action, as were the “San Francisco,” “New York,” “Charleston,” and “Newark,” which stood guard over the rebel fleet, at a considerable distance, Brownson stood in alongside one of the merchantmen. He steamed over close to the “Trajano,” on which Da Gama’s flag was flying, and which, with the “Guanabara,” was guarding the shore.
“I will recognize no accidental shots,” shouted Brownson to the rebel admiral, “so don’t fire any. If you open fire I will respond, and if you reply to that I will sink you.”
As the merchant ship came in line the “Trajano” fired a shot across her bow. Brownson replied instantly with a six-pound shell which exploded so close to the “Trajano” that it threw water on her forward deck. A musket shot was fired from the “Guanabara,” and it was answered and silenced with a bullet from the “Detroit.”
After seeing his charge safely tied up to the dock Brownson circled contemptuously around the “Trajano” and ordered a marine to send a rifle shot into her sternpost, as an evidence of his esteem for her commander. The discomfited Da Gama, who was looking for some excuse to end his hopeless revolt, fell over himself getting into his launch, raced over to the “Detroit” and tendered his sword to Brownson. Brownson told him he had not demanded his surrender, as he seemed to think, and could not accept it, but that he must keep his hands off American shipping if he wished to continue his mortal existence. The “revolution” ended right there, but unfortunately I was not present to witness its collapse. The august naval authorities were scandalized when this display of good sense was reported to them and they carefully prepared a message of censure to Benham for permitting such conduct, but before it was despatched the New York morning newspapers reached Washington—and after a perusal of their enthusiastic editorials on the subject a message of commendation was sent to him instead.