Fanny Campbell, The Female Pirate Captain

He was dressed in blue sailor’s pants, and a short Pea Jacket descending about half way to the knee, within the lining of which a close observer might have seen a brace of pistols and the silver haft of a knife, so designed as to cut at both sides while it was bent like the Turkish hanger. As he waved his tarpaulin hat for a signal to the brig, the night breeze played with his short, curly hair, throwing it in dainty curls about his forehead, which, protected by the hat so constantly worn by the seaman, was white as alabaster, and showed in singular contrast with the browned cheek and open neck. – Altogether you would have pronounced him a king’s officer in disguise.

The boat received him, and he was soon on board the brig.

‘Well, Mr. Channing,’ said the captain of the vessel, who met him as soon as he arrived on board, ‘have you engaged the man whom you promised to get for me yesterday?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘When will he join us? we sail with the morning tide you know.’

‘He will be on board to-morrow morning in good season, sir.’

‘Don’t let him fail, sir, for it will completely man us into our single hand, Mr. Channing. It does seem a pity to sail without the full complement when we have so nearly got it.’

‘I’ll see this man again to-night sir, and make sure of him.’

‘That will be well, sir,’ replied the Captain.

This conversation was held on the quarter deck of the brig Constance which was of about four hundred tons burthen, and a most beautiful specimen of the naval architecture of the day. She was bound ostensibly to the West Indies, but the plan was (as Mr. Channing told Jack Herbert that night) that after touching there she was to proceed to England.

She was well armed carrying a long tom amidships, and half a dozen six pounders, and a crew when her complement was complete, of twenty men before the mast. She was designed as a strong armed trader, and having letters of marque, she was expected to take any vessel belonging to the enemies of England (under whose flag she sailed) provided she was strong enough. Her commander was a tyrant in his disposition and much addicted to the intemperate use of spirituous liquors.

His first mate was a weak, imbecile young man, put on board originally as a sort of supercargo, by the owners, being a son of the principle share holder. The third officer was Mr. Channing whom we have introduced to the reader, and who appeared to be the only person on board worthy of trust as an officer. The captain trusted almost entirely to his first mate who was also inclined to throw all responsibility upon his second, as we shall have occasion to see.

The next morning Mr. Charming called on the poor Irishman as he had promised to do. He learned that the poor woman his mother, had expired during the night, and he found her son with his face buried in his hands, the very picture of honest grief.

‘I condole with you my good man,’ said Channing, ‘but you should remember that your mother has gone to a better world, where she will know no more want, no pain nor hunger – “where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest.”’

‘Do you belave that?’ asked Terrance Mooney.

‘Most certainly, the humblest of God’s creatures is his especial care, and he will gather all his children home in due time,’ said the mate of the brig to the weeping son of the deceased.

‘And no purgatory nather.’

‘If there be any purgatory, my good man, it is here on this earth where there is so much sin and consequent misery.’

‘Arrah, that’s consoulin to be sure if its all true, but the praist tells a mighty dale about that place.’

‘If he would preach more about the love and kindness of our heavenly father, and less of these imaginary places, he would serve the cause of his maker much more faithfully, and lead more sinners to repentance,’ said Channing.

‘Would’nt I be happy if I thought the ould lady had gone to Paradise to live wid the saints?’ said Terrence.

‘Believe me, my good fellow, she’s safe in the hands of the wisdom and power that made her.’

‘That’s consoling to be sure, but here am I, Terrence Moony, wid no mother at all, sure what’s to become of me?’

The thought struck Channing that it wanted yet one man to complete the complement of the brig.

‘How would you like to go to sea with me for good wages and comfortable living, hey Terrence?’ asked the mate.

‘Why there’s nothing to kape me here to be sure, but to see the ould woman dacently buried. When does your honor go to sea, if you plase?’

‘This morning.’

‘Right away is it?’

‘With the ebb tide.’

‘Arrah, that’s soon enough to be sure, could I get my friends to dacently bury her now, but thin I hav’nt the money.’

‘Here’s a few dollars if that will do it,’ said Channing handling Terrence some money for the purpose.

‘Do it, is it? won’t they have a “wake” out of it, and I’ll be far away at the same time they’ll be ating at it.’

‘Well, you must make haste, my man.’

‘Ye’s all ginerosoty, yer honer. I’ll jist fix it all, and thin I’ll follow yees to the end of the earth.’

And Terrence Mooney did arrange for the funeral of his mother, and after a few bitter expressions at parting from her body, he went on board the brig, when he shipped for the voyage to the West Indies.

Mr. Channing and Jack Herbert were on board in due season, and with the morning tide the brig hoisted her anchor, and spreading her white wings, stood out to sea. The bright sun shone gloriously upon the green islands that dotted the harbor in every direction, they were much larger then than now, and indeed one or two small ones have disappeared entirely. Seventy years of swift running tides have greatly reduced them in point of size, but not in beauty, for they still give a picturesque loveliness to the Bay that a painter’s taste could not improve. St. George’s flag floated from the topmasts of a dozen men of war, which lay at anchor in the harbor, and floated from a number of lofty points in the town. Scarcely had this scene disappeared from the eyes of the crew, when they were summoned aft by the captain, where he made them the following brief and very pertinent speech, it was characteristic of the man.

‘My men, when I’m obeyed quick and well I’m a pretty clever sort of a man, but when I’m thwarted, why then I’m h – I! so look out. I’m captain here, and will be obeyed to the very letter. You’ll know me fast enough when any of you cross me. – There, that will do – now go forward.’

‘Divilish little Christian is there about him,’ said Terrence Mooney to his comrades, ‘and is it bastes that we are entirely?’

The sailers did go forward, but they muttered among themselves that they knew full well what sort of a man the captain was, one of the devil’s own begetting, and the poor fellows made up their minds to plenty of blows, and little duff.’ The captain soon disappeared below, and in an hour or so afterwards was half intoxicated and asleep.

The first mate for some days attended promptly to duty, but he soon began to ‘shirk,’ and the general direction and sailing of the brig as a matter of course fell upon Channing, the next in command. – This none regretted, for although his orders were given in a prompt and decided tone, and implicit obedience was exacted, yet was his voice musical and kind, and his orders were almost anticipated by the promptitude of the willing crew, who soon came to love him for the generous consideration he evinced for their good and that of the vessel.

A little incident occurred on board of the brig, when eight days from port, which showed who really commanded the crew of the Constance. The captain passed the most of his time in the cabin, smoking, drinking, and dozing away the time, and thus kept but a slack look out upon the men, notwithstanding his boast at the outset. – One afternoon when a pretty stiff breeze was blowing from the North West, the mate lay sleeping in his state room leaving the sailing of the brig to his second, while the captain was occupied much the same as usual. After a while the mate awoke and came upon deck. Wishing to make up for his manifest negligence by some appearance of care at least, as he came up on deck he cast his eye aloft, and ordered a reef out of the fore and main topsails.

The crew looked at one another in astonishment, for it was evident to the poorest sailor on board that so far from its being proper to put the brig under any more sail, it would have been more prudent to have furled the canvass in question altogether. – The wind had blown fresh all day, and now as the afternoon advanced, the night breeze began to add its power to the wind that had blown through the day, until the brig under the two sails mentioned, and those close reefed, leaped over the waves with the speed of a racer. The mate repeated his order a second time, but there was no response from the crew, who slunk away in various directions with sullen countenances.

‘Mr. Channing,’ said the mate, ‘these men are absolutely mutinous, sir.’

‘I see it, Mr. Bunning.’

‘What’s to be done, sir?’

‘Do you still think it proper to make that sail?’

‘It was the order, sir.’

‘Forward there,’ said Channing in a tone of voice pitched perhaps a key lower than was his natural voice, ‘lay aloft and shake out the reefs from the fore and main topsails, cheerily men, away there, with a will, I say.’

The order had scarcely left the mouth of the second mate before the agile forms of a score of men sprang lightly up the shrouds to obey the mandate.

‘How is it the men obey you and not me, Mr. Channing?’

‘Mr. Banning, it is blowing pretty fresh as you must see,’ was the reply, and perhaps it is rather crowding the brig to make this new sail just now, but if you think it proper, the men must do it, sir.’

‘Well, put her under what canvass you like,’ said the mate to Channing as he left the deck, not a little mortified at the scene that had just taken place.

Channing rather pitied than blamed his fellow officer, and therefore was determined at any rate that his order should be obeyed; besides, he was not a person to relax the reins of discipline although much loved by the crew. He saw the impropriety of putting the brig under more sail as well as the crew, but it was not for him or them to judge in such a matter when there was a superior officer on deck. The error was soon remedied by the good judgment of Channing, and the beautiful vessel buffeting the waves still sprang on her course in safety, under the care of a higher power than any on board, bending gracefully under the influence of the freshening breeze.

CHAPTER III

THE RUSE OF THE CAPTAIN, MUTINY! A NEW COMMANDER. ATTEMPTED ASSASSINATION. A FATAL AND BLOODY SCENE. SAIL HO! AN ENEMY. THE PINE TREE FLAG. THE SEA FIGHT AND THE VICTORY

All the crew of the brig Constance, save the captain, first mate and cook, were Americans, if we except Terrence Mooney who was one at heart, and the captain had managed to have this the case in order that he might take them home to England and receive the bounty money upon each one who would be immediately pressed into the British Navy. He had arrived at Boston but a few weeks previous to his sailing upon the present voyage with a crew of his own countrymen, upon whom he had also played the same trick, by delivering them over to the King’s ship that floated in Boston harbor, It was a hard fate to most of them who would as willingly have been immured in the walls of a prison. They told as a matter of consolation that they would not have to serve but about three years! And this, to men who had left families at home, to whom they had expected to return in a few weeks. It is a foul deed to impress a man into any duty, and foul must be the service that requires the exercise of such deeds.

The captain of the Constance was enabled to obtain a sufficient number of Americans to man his craft, by offering very high wages, and under the pretence of making a voyage to the West Indies only and back, for they knew not of his treachery to his former crew. The plan of the captain in the present case was, after reaching his port in those latitudes, to pretend to have ascertained that which rendered it absolutely necessary for him to proceed immediately to England, intending to pacify the crew by the promise of immediate return and increase of pay. This piece of treachery the captain thought was known only to himself and his first mate, but he was mistaken for Channing had announced to Jack Herbert as the reader will remember, the destination of the brig, on the evening previous to their sailing from Boston. Thus it was evident that Channing fully understood the proposed treachery and that he designed to turn it to good advantage, or else he would not have shipped on board knowing that which he did.

The North American Colonies were then at war with the mother country, the brig was a British brig, and Channing was an American. His heart beat warmly for the cause of his country, he looked about him, there were twenty men, all save one, his fellow countrymen, about to be betrayed into the hands of their enemies. His mind was determined, and he said within himself this shall not be! He had fortunately overheard the captain and the first mate congratulating themselves on having so nearly obtained their full complement of men on the day previous to the enlistment of Herbert, and thus had he become master of their secret purpose of treachery.

Already had the brig changed the chill northern blasts for the sunny breezes of the South, and she was, according to the reckoning of Channing, about a day’s sail from Cuba, when he determined that the good brig Constance should change hands, and from a British, become an American craft. It was a bold undertaking; the two greatest sins that a sailor is taught to dread, Mutiny and piracy, were staring him full in the face. He did not design to implicate a single member of the crew in the transaction, but resolved to make the attempt to gain possession of the vessel, alone and unassisted. He had two reasons for this: first, he was too good a disciplinarian to tamper with those below him, and he foresaw that if he should once become familiar with them in a matter of conspiracy, he could no longer command their respect. Then again he felt that he had no right to draw them into the danger incurred, and that it would be far more noble in him to accomplish that which was to be done with his own hands – after that, if he proved successful, those could join him who felt disposed. Early one morning, Channing went down into the captain’s cabin, whom he found just rising from his bed. Stepping to the table he possessed himself of the brace of pistols that lay upon it, and also the cutlass that hung from the wall; then turning to the captain who was hardly yet awake, he said: ‘Captain Brownless, you are my prisoner!’

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