“You ask an impossibility, sir,” answered the officer, who was of the Martinet school, as stern and unbending as one of his men’s muskets; “he has been found guilty, and I have no power to reprieve him. We must put a stop to this system of sending spies into our camp. The higher his position and education the more deserving he is of punishment. Sergeant of the guard, carry out the sentence pronounced on the prisoner.”
“You see it is useless, my friend,” said the young man. “Come and assist me to meet death like a man.”
“Oh, my friend, say rather like a Christian,” cried Mercer, again taking his hand; and together they walked to a tree where a sergeant and some soldiers were arranging a block and rope. Mercer was allowed to continue by the side of his friend, and together they knelt down on the grass and prayed for mercy and forgiveness to Him who is the fountain of all mercy and swift to forgive. The chaplain of one of the regiments had been sent for. He came at length, and the prisoner accepted his ministrations alone, but soon again asked Mercer to join him.
In a short time, terribly short it appeared to me, the officer in charge of the party looked at his watch. The prisoner saw the movement; he started to his feet. “I am ready,” he exclaimed, with a firm voice; “I willingly give my life for my country’s freedom, well assured that ere long America will be free to advance onward in the fulfilment of the mighty destiny in store for her, and those who now seek to oppress her will have departed with defeat and disgrace from her shores.”
Mercer entreated him, when he ceased speaking, to calm himself; he did so with wonderful self-command. Another quarter of an hour was allowed him, and at the end of it a signal was given, the rope was thrown over his neck, and he was run up to a high branch of the tree under which he had been standing. There was a loud cry, but it was uttered by Mercer; Delisle and I rushed forward—our messmate had fainted. We got him into a neighbouring hut, where an officer gave us every assistance in his power. Meantime the body of the spy had been removed. As soon as Mercer had recovered we led him as quickly at possible out of the camp in the direction of our ship, and got him without delay on board. He made no allusion on the way to what had occurred; nor did he indeed ever speak of it to me. I expected to find the next day that he was taken ill, but he still went about his duty as usual, though his nervous system had received a shock from which it was evident he would take long to recover. This was the last adventure I have noted during our stay at New York.
Chapter Six.
Once more at sea.—Drive a schooner on shore.—Blows up.—Mercer’s death.—Capture a sloop.—Sent away in her.—A gale.—Engagement with privateer.—Beat her off.—Sent to New York as commodore of prizes.—Jovial life on shore.—Ill conducted expeditions.
We were once more at sea, and truly glad were all hands on board to find themselves in deep water again. The shore of Long Island, faint and low, was just discernible astern, while Sandy Hook and the highlands of Neversink arose in the distance over our starboard quarter. As I looked on the far-off shore I could not help thinking of the scenes of strife and destruction which, in all probability, were going on there, and feeling heartily glad that we were away from them for a time. We had quitted Turtle Bay on the 3rd and dropped down to Staten Island. On our passage down we ran on board a transport and carried away our larboard fore-chains, cathead, and small bower-anchor stock, not to speak of having so severely damaged the transport that she nearly sank. On the 12th of the month, having repaired damages, we put to sea with his. Majesty’s ship Daphne in company. We were on our way to the mouth of the Delaware with the intention of capturing, burning, sinking, or otherwise destroying all vessels of every description belonging to the colonists which we could fall in with, an odd method, it would seem, of bringing them to reason and making them loyal subjects of his Majesty, though our proceedings did not strike me in that light just then. For a couple of days we had a fair wind, which carried us nearly up to our cruising ground. On the 14th Captain Hudson made a signal to the Daphne to go in chase of a sail seen to the southward, and shortly afterwards another sail was seen standing towards us from the westward. We soon made her out to be a man-of-war, and on exchanging signals she proved to be the Kingfisher sloop-of-war. Within an hour after she joined us. As we continued our course to the southward the look-out at the mast-head hailed the deck. “A sail in the south-east,” said he.