The Second War with England, Vol. 2 of 2

by Joel Tyler Headley

He made the Marquesas Islands on the 23d of October. Winding among them to find a hiding-place secure as possible against English war vessels that he heard had been sent out to capture him, he at length dropped anchor in the sequestered bay of Novaheevah and took possession of it in the name of the United States, naming it Madison Island. In a short time the native women came swimming off naked to the ship in crowds, and as they climbed up the vessel's sides, the sailors, astonished at the novel spectacle, threw them their handkerchiefs to cover their persons. Though swarthy, many of them possessed beautiful forms and handsome features. Apparently wholly unconscious of those feelings of modesty which seem innate in the sex, they received with pride the advances of the men, and in a short time every petty officer had chosen his wife, and the long and tedious confinement on ship-board was exchanged for unbridled license.

A year before, Porter had sailed from the United States alone, with only a few months' provisions on board, and in the mean time had taken thirteen vessels and four hundred prisoners. With but a single imperfect chart to direct him, he had boldly threaded the islands of the Pacific, and swept it of nearly all the enemy's ships. His journal of this long cruise reads more like a romance than a logbook, and seems to belong to that class of literature in which Robinson Crusoe and Captain Kidd figure as heroes. That frigate dropping down the Delaware in October, the autumn previous, and now riding at anchor, with a large fleet about her, in a deserted bay amid the Marquesas Islands, presents a striking contrast, and shows what a single brave, energetic, and skillful officer can accomplish.

In a short time those quiet waters resounded with the hammer of the workmen, and were filled with the stir and activity of a civilized port.

The nations were at first friendly, but those occupying the valley where Porter had landed being at war with another tribe, the Happahs, they insisted that he should make common cause with them against their enemies. This, at last, for the sake of peace, he was compelled to do, and sent a party of sailors, under Lieutenant Downes, to assist them in their invasion of the enemy's territory. The hostile tribe had assembled to the number of three or four thousand, but Downes soon scattered them and returned with five dead bodies, which his allies brought back in triumph, slung on poles.

In the mean time Captain Porter built a small village, consisting of several houses, a bakery, and rope-walk, and erected a fort which he mounted with four guns.

At length the Typees, a warlike tribe, succeeded in exciting the friendly tribes to hostilities, and a plan was rapidly maturing to murder the American crews. Presents and requests to induce them to maintain a peaceful attitude, only increased their arrogance, and Porter at last resolved to make them feel his power. Accompanied by thirty-five sailors he advanced into their country, but the natives avoided a combat and retired into the mountain fastnesses. The next day he took nearly his whole crew and boldly entered the mountains, whose bald tops swarmed with thousands of savages. But to his surprise, he suddenly came to a wall seven feet high flanked with impenetrable thickets. Behind this the Typees made a bold stand, and hurled stones and arrows against their assailants. The volleys of the Americans produced but little effect, and Porter discovering at length that his ammunition was nearly exhausted, sent Lieutenant Gamble to the boats for more, while he, with only nineteen sailors, maintained his position. On the return of Gamble it was thought best to retreat, and the whole took up their backward march. The savages, elated with their victory, pressed forward in pursuit, when Porter gave them a volley which killed two and wounded several more. Coming to a river, the Americans heard the snapping of slings in the thickets on the bank, and immediately after, a shower of stones fell among them, one of which fractured the leg of Lieutenant Downes. Weary and disappointed, they at length reached the boats. Here they rested till night, when they were again ordered forward. The moon shone bright as this little column slowly and painfully climbed the heights, from whose summits arose the yells and songs of the savages. As the party advanced, the sterile region grew more dreary and broken, and the prospect ahead more disheartening. Now wading foaming torrents, and again creeping along dizzy precipices, the astonished sailors, unaccustomed to such labors, became exhausted, and many dropped down amid the rocks unable to proceed further. At length the summit, from which the valley of the Typees could be seen, was reached. But in the mean time the sky had become overcast, the moon was obscured, and the guide declared it would be impossible to descend in the darkness. They therefore laid down, where they were, to wait for morning.

Those American sailors reposing on the top of the Typee mountain, in that remote and almost unknown region, presented a novel spectacle. An impenetrable gloom hung over the valley beneath, the sky spread like a pall above them, while the dull, heavy roar of the Pacific, as its billows broke in the darkness far below them, added to the strangeness and romance of the scene. At length the gathering storm burst, and the rain fell in torrents. It was a tropical shower—one of those deluges of the skies, and in a few moments the little band was flooded with water. Porter, fearing the ammunition would all be spoiled, bade every man protect it with the utmost care. The Typees, assembled in the valley below to the number of four or five thousand, appeared to entertain the same expectations, for they began to shout and beat their drums in exultation.

At length the long wished for day dawned—the storm had ceased, and as the light crept down the sides of the mountain, a scene of surpassing beauty presented itself. A valley nine miles long and three broad, lay spread out before them, inclosed on every side by high mountains. At the farther extremity arose a lofty precipice, over whose brink a torrent rushed in a flying leap, and falling in foam at the base, formed a stream, which, after winding tranquilly through the green and lovely valley, passed, by an opening in the mountains, into the Pacific, that, far away, rolled and glittered in the early dawn. All over this sequestered plain were scattered the breadfruit and cocoa trees, while picturesque villages of bamboo dotted it in every direction. Amid these, immense crowds of swarthy men were moving, and animals grazing, giving life and animation to the strange and beautiful panorama.

Firing a volley, to let the enemy know his powder was not destroyed, Porter began the difficult descent. The tortuous course he was compelled to pursue made the journey long and tedious, and that night he encamped in a village of friendly natives. The next morning he moved on the Typee towns. The natives at first closed bravely with him, but frightened by the musketry they soon retreated, followed by the sailors. Retiring from village to village, they at last took refuge in a strong fortress, against which small arms could have no effect. Porter then began the work of destruction, and soon nine villages were wrapt in fire. As the flames and smoke rolled up from the plain, he began his backward march to the ships. At sunset he stood again on the mountain where he had reposed the night before, and looked down on the valley, but it was now a scene of desolation. The smoke curling slowly up from the ruins revealed where the Typee towns had stood, while around the smouldering ashes the inhabitants were gathered in consternation and despair.

Porter reached his boats in safety, having marched sixty miles in all. The sailors, unaccustomed to such land duty, were completely broken down with the fatigue and exposure.