We are not obliged to depend solely upon books of history and old musty records for information relating to this important era in our national history, no. There are grey haired old men among us, whose eyes are not yet dim and whose spirits still burn bright; men who were early fostered at the foundation of liberty, and who spilled their blood in their country’s cause. They will tell you of these things as having occurred in their day and generation, and in which they acted a part. They will tell you of the hardships and vicissitudes of a people struggling for freedom, and of the almost incredible sufferings cheerfully endured by all in furtherance of the great and holy cause in which they had embarked.
When we realize the state of affairs at the time the brig left Boston, we shall see that Channing was fully justified in the capture of the vessel he had thus encountered. The captain of the barque was unprepared for such an enemy and had supposed the brig to be one of the roving buccaniers of the day, which crowded the tropical seas at that period but when he found that he had struck his flag to a privateer of the American colonies as he was informed, his rage was absolutely unbounded; he was beside himself with passion.
‘I would rather have sunk where I lay, or have been taken by the fiercest pirate on the ocean than to have struck St. George’s flag to a rebel,5 said he.
‘The matter was beyond your control,’ answered Captain Channing, ‘and you certainly are no more to blame in the premises than you would be had you struck your flag to a buccanier as you had supposed.’
‘Poor consolation,’ said the enraged Englishman scornfully.
‘The very best I can offer nevertheless,’ was the answer.
‘And what do you propose to do with us now you have got possession,’ asked the captain of the barque. ‘Hang us up, all at the yard arm? eh?’
‘You will be treated as prisoners of war, sir,’ was the mild reply.
The prisoners were being secured and continued below, when Terrence Moony came aft to the quarter deck, where he stood with his hat off, twirling in his hands, endeavoring to attract the attention of his commander, who at length observing him asked:
‘Well, Terrence what’s in the wind now.’