Six hardy seamen gave way at the oars, and Phil and I waved our hats in parting at Master Hackett, whom we did not see again until many a long day had passed.
The Britisher caught a glimpse of the small boat as she pulled out past our ship, and he pitched a shot after her as a signal to heave to; but the old shellbacks who sat at the oars were not the kind to be frightened by the burning of British powder. They had sniffed the odor many times before, and if they would voluntarily remain on a burning ship while the enemy was plugging ball after ball into her as if she had been no more than a target, they could be depended upon to hold their course regardless of Captain Nash and the razee Saturn.
Before the Britishers could fire at them again they were lost to view in the fog, and, as we learned two days afterward, landed in safety on Long Island.
Next morning Captain Nash, after examining our papers once more, gave us permission to continue the voyage, and before nightfall we were lying in the harbor of New York, rejoicing at having escaped death or a British prison.
Yes, we were made much of, once it was known in the city who we were, but of that there is no reason why I should speak at any length.
I should add, however, that after sailing and rowing sixty miles or more, the boat in which was our commander arrived at Babylon, on the south side of Long Island, and even then her occupants were not free from trouble. Captain Porter was suspected by the citizens of being a British officer, and but for the fact that he had his commission from Congress in his pocket, he might have been detained.
He made his way to New York, where he was received with demonstrations of most profound respect; and when the exploits of the Essex had been told, every city, village, and hamlet in the country sung the praises of the frigate and those who manned her.
Phil and I went home as soon as it was possible to escape from those who were eager to show their admiration of what had been done by the Essex, and I carried in my pocket a song which was made especially for the frigate. It was printed and sold on the streets; there was in the verses no little praise for all hands; but the lines I set down here pleased me more than all the rest, since they referred to that gallant sailor who by his skill and courage had made it possible for any of us to see home again.
"From the laurel's fairest bough
Let the muse her garland twine,