In ship and prison

by William P. Chipman

As the sun came up the mist lifted enough for us to make out a brig coming directly towards us, and at her masthead were the stars and stripes. The moment I caught sight of that flag, I leaped to my feet, waved my hands, and shouted at the top of my voice. My comrades followed my example, and in a few minutes we had the satisfaction of seeing that we had attracted the vessel’s attention.

Down she came and rounded to us. The next moment we were on her deck to find she was the Britannica, a prize of the Boston, in command of Midshipman Thomas Blinn, and bound for L’Orient, where she was to await the coming of the frigate.

Our story, long as it was, was soon told, and then Master Blinn related the history of the Boston since I had left her. Her passage across the ocean had been made without mishap, and on March thirty-first she entered the river of Bordeaux. April first she weighed anchor and ascended as far as the town Lavmoon, which she saluted with thirteen guns, and where she lay until the next morning. She continued up the river to within three miles of Bordeaux, where she landed Master Adams. There the vessels had been thoroughly overhauled, and left for a cruise across to the banks of Newfoundland, looking for prizes. A number had been captured on the westward voyage and sent into Boston. Returning, the Britannica, bound from Newfoundland to Oporto, and loaded with seventeen hundred quintals of fish, had been taken. Midshipman Blinn with a crew of six had been put on board, with orders to precede the frigate to L’Orient.

We arrived at that port July third, and two days later the Boston came in. I went on board at once, and made my report to Captain Tucker. He was kind enough to say:

“I do not see how you are at all to blame, Master Dunn, for the loss of the ship you commanded. An older and more experienced officer would hardly have done differently under the circumstances. As for the experiences which came later, they were beyond your control, and you are in no way responsible for them—unless,” he added with a smile, “we except your second runaway from the Saint George, and for that you will doubtless have to answer to the British authorities, if they ever catch you again.”

CHAPTER XV
WE CAPTURE THE POLE

During the month that now followed two interesting events took place. The first was the sale of all the prizes which had been sent into French ports, and the distribution of the money among our crew. I had supposed that Masters Goss and Webber and myself would not share in this distribution, as we had not been in the frigate when these vessels were captured. But the decision was that every man on the ship’s roster was entitled to his proportionate part, and so we, who had just returned from captivity, each received a tidy little sum.

The other event was the re-organization of our crew. Our first lieutenant had died from a wound he received by the bursting of a gun, so Master Welch was now advanced to the first place, Master Bates to the second, and Master Livingstone was sent down from Paris to fill the vacancy thus made, that of a third lieutenant. A young man named Philip Forrier was appointed midshipman in the place of Master LeMoyne, who had died at Halifax.

There was a more radical change in our noncommissioned officers, and an enlistment of a number of new men, including Master Blinn and old Pete Berry, who had escaped from the Saint George with me. This gave us a total crew of one hundred and forty-six men and boys, exclusive of our officers, and exclusive of our marines, of whom we had a full company.

The re-organization completed, on August first we put to sea again, this time homeward bound. For three weeks we sailed on our course, catching sight of but two vessels during the whole time, which were too far away for us to overhaul. Then our fortune changed and during the next week we captured a prize every day—all of which were manned with prize crews, and ordered to follow in the wake of the frigate.