In ship and prison

I will not attempt to describe my feelings as I stood there in the darkness, with those stout walls shutting me from the liberty I craved—craved that I might give myself to the service of my struggling country. I am quite sure I could not at that time separate the mingled feelings of chagrin, regret, and hopelessness that oppressed me. One word alone can express the condition of my mind and heart just then—despair. I could have shed tears if it would have been of any use; it may be a sob did escape me, but if so it was speedily checked, for a heavy voice spoke from the farthest corner of the room, demanding:

“Who are you?”

I had supposed I was alone in the cell. Surprised now to find I was sharing it with another, I nevertheless was able to answer promptly:

“An unfortunate prisoner like yourself.”

“Yes,” was the response, “but I mean are you British or American?” and I thought I detected an eagerness, almost a suspense in the speaker’s voice as he waited for an answer.

“American,” I replied.

“Thank God for that!” was the immediate ejaculation. Then I heard a sound as though one was rising from a bed, and the next instant the man came over where I was with rapid strides.

“I am Samuel Tucker, a sea captain from Marblehead, in the colony of Massachusetts,” he announced much to my astonishment. “Now tell me who are you?”

“Captain Tucker!” I cried, ignoring his question in my surprise and joy. “Captain Samuel Tucker of Marblehead, and I came across the ocean to find you! Who would have thought we should meet here—in a cell of the Liverpool jail!”

“‘Came across the ocean to find me,’” he repeated, and I could not help noticing the wonderment in his tones. “Pray tell me then who are you?”

“I am Arthur Dunn, the son of Captain Dunn, with whom you once sailed,” I replied, and then rapidly, yet in fullest detail, I told my story, beginning with my mother’s dying request, and ending with my arrest an hour or two before.

“So you are in jail for the very same reason I am,” he remarked with a slight laugh when I was done. Then he spun his own yarn.

He had made a quick voyage to Lisbon, discharged his cargo, taken another, and returned to the colony. Then he had sailed for Marseilles, France. There an agent of the English government had come to him, desiring to charter his brig to go over to Gibraltar and convey a company of soldiers to Liverpool.

“The rascal never told me why the regiment was hurrying home,” the Captain explained, “or I would not have let him have my craft at any price. But the pay was good, and I fell into the same trap that a half dozen other Yankee skippers did. We went to Gibraltar and brought in here a regiment which sailed the very next day after its arrival for the colonies to fight our countrymen. When I learned the truth my blood boiled within me, and I cursed the King and his government to the agent’s face when he came to pay me the charter money. I might have known what would follow; the confiscation of my vessel and my incarceration here. But the fellow knew just what I thought of him and the government,” he concluded with a chuckle.

“How long have you been in here?” I now asked.

“Two weeks,” he responded; “but come over here,” he added in a low whisper, and, taking me by the arm, he led me down the cell to its one narrow window, through which so little light came that I had not noticed it until then.

Once at the aperture he raised my hands with his own to the window frame, and then I became aware that he was removing it. Placing it noiselessly on the floor, he carried my hand up to the iron grating, which I soon found he was taking down bar by bar.

“There,” he said at length in a tone so low I could scarcely hear him, “you see the way is clear for our escape. This is why I was so anxious to find out if you were an American. I wanted no one here to thwart my plans. We shall go at midnight, so you will not be long within these walls, Master Dunn,” and again he chuckled.

“But is not the river outside this wall?” I questioned, “and some feet below? How are we to get down to it?”

“With this,” he replied, and carrying my hand up to his bosom I felt hidden inside of his shirt a coil of stout rope. “Oh! the preparations are all made, and cannot fail,” he continued confidently. “A boat from a Yankee ship in the river will come under this window at midnight, and lowering ourselves into that, we shall be taken off to the vessel which will sail before daylight. The only change in the plan is she will carry two passengers instead of one. You see, you came just in time to go home with me, Master Dunn.”

The confidence in his own tones inspired me. A half-hour before I had been on the verge of despair; now I was nearly wild in my exuberance of joy. I could scarcely wait for the hour to come when we should leave our cell. Then I fell to wondering how Captain Tucker had been able to arrange so completely his plan of escape and as though he divined my thought, the captain told me, while we waited the coming of the rescuing yawl.

“Anchored in the harbor, near my own brig, at the time of my arrest,” he began, “was the ship Rebecca Morris from Philadelphia. Her captain is an old friend of mine, and I knew if I could manage to communicate with him he would do all in his power to help me escape. Under the pretext of sending a message to my family in the colonies I asked the turnkey who came to my cell daily to take a letter off to Captain Allen. At first the fellow, demurred, but when I offered him my watch, a valuable one, in return for the favor, and let him see the note I had written, he yielded. Unbeknown to him, however, I substituted a second note for the first one, in which I described the situation of my cell, and suggested a way in which my friend could aid me. That night a boat came under my window, bringing the things I had asked for—a file and a stout rope. Meanwhile I removed the sash with my pocket knife, and unraveled one of my stockings to obtain the string I needed. With the latter I pulled up a stouter cord, and then the file and the rope from the yawl. I knew it would take me several days to cut through the bars, and so sent down a note requesting the boat to return here for me tonight. When the cord came back, there was a line from Captain Allen himself assuring me he would be here without fail.”

As the moments passed I could not help growing anxious lest for some reason the friendly captain should fail us. On the other hand, Captain Tucker was as cool and undisturbed as it was possible for a man to be.

“I know Christopher Allen,” he declared again and again, “and he will be here as sure as the sun will rise tomorrow morning. All the guards on the river cannot stop him. He’ll find a way to outwit them and rescue us.”

At length there came the yowl of a cat from somewhere on the river. Captain Tucker leaped to his feet (for we had been sitting on the edge of the bed while we waited), exclaiming in a suppressed whisper:

“What did I tell you, Master Dunn? He is almost here.”

Again the yowl sounded nearer, and as though the animal was floating on the tide down by the jail. Then it came the third time directly under our window-sill.

My companion had already drawn the coil of rope from his bosom, and was making one end fast to a piece of the iron grating. Placing this across the narrow aperture, he threw out the cord, and turned to me, saying:

“All is ready, Master Dunn, and you shall go first. Tell Captain Allen, however, that I’m right behind you.”

“Nay, sir,” I remonstrated, “you should go first, as the plan is yours and—” but I did not finish.

“I am in command here,” he interrupted with an authority I could not dispute, “and you are to go now.”

With the words he lifted me in his brawny arms and thrust me feet foremost through the opening. I caught the rope in my hands and in another moment was gliding swiftly down it. The distance was not so great as I had expected, and it seemed but an instant before stout hands seized me and set me gently down in the boat.

“You are not Captain Tucker,” a voice then whispered in my ear.

“No,” I admitted in the same low tone, “I am Arthur Dunn, a fellow prisoner whom Captain Tucker insisted should come down first. He is right behind me.”

The swaying of the rope confirmed my words, and, pushing me to one side, the same brawny arms caught the captain as he came down. The next minute the light craft darted off down the river as swiftly as four oars could pull it.

I had been given a place in the bow, while Captain Tucker sat with Captain Allen in the stern of the boat. What passed between them on our way to the ship I never knew, but when we were in her cabin her skipper turned to me, and putting his hand in mine, said:

“I have had a double pleasure tonight, Master Dunn. Instead of plucking one patriot out of the hands of the enemy, I have taken two. I knew your father. I believe he has in you a son worthy of him. You are welcome to a place among us.”

I thanked him as best I could, and went to the berth assigned me with a heart full of gratitude to the overruling Providence that had so wonderfully cared for me and given me such kind friends.

But I was destined to find a more powerful friend before that voyage was finished. This was Master Robert Morris, the owner of the vessel, and a member of the Continental Congress, who was on board as a passenger. Either Captain Tucker or Captain Allen must have told him who I was and how I came to be on board the ship, for when I went on deck the next morning, he came up to me, and having congratulated me on my escape from the British prison, said with a smile:

“We ought to hear good things from you and Captain Tucker. You both have early shown that you are loyal to the colonies.”

Having no desire to be a drone on the vessel, I went to the captain after breakfast and offered my services in any place he could use me.

“It is commendable in you, Master Dunn, to make this offer,” he replied, “and I will say I rather expected it of you. It is your father all over again. But there is no place I can put you except with the sailors. Captain Tucker has already made a similar offer, and I can hardly put the best skipper that ever sailed out of a New England port out of the cabin, so I have created the berth of a third mate in order to use him. You can hardly expect me to arrange for a fourth mate much as I should like to keep you with us. But if you care to go to the forecastle, I will enter you on the ship’s roster as an able seaman.”

“I had rather go there than be idle,” I answered promptly, and, having been assigned my watch and station, I went forward. Though I did not know it then, my act greatly pleased Master Morris, who was already furtively watching both Captain Tucker and myself for proofs of our seamanship.

Before the voyage was over he had the opportunity to see us in positions which tested to the full our qualities as sailors, for ere a week had passed we encountered one of the severest gales I ever experienced. For three days it raged, carrying away our shrouds and yards as if they were tow, racking the ship until her seams opened, and she was in great jeopardy. What was even worse, the Captain was stricken down by a falling spar, and both of his limbs were broken.

In this emergency Captain Tucker stepped forward and offered to take charge of the vessel. To this Master Morris and the mates readily assented. The new commander’s first act was to assign me to his own position as third mate, and his second to assure the men he would save the vessel, if they would only promptly obey his orders. Then he went to the wheel, and, taking the helm into his own hands, guided the ship all that night through the storm.

His orders, issued from the wheel, were promptly executed by the sailors who had taken on new courage and when dawn came and the tempest abated, there was not a single soul on board but what was ready to own that it was to his skill and knowledge the ship and the crew owed their preservation.

This deed was the link in the chain that secured the fast friendship of Master Morris. Grateful for the saving of his vessel, upon our arrival in port, he introduced Captain Tucker to some of the other members of the Continental Congress, and before he left Philadelphia for home he had the promise of a captain’s commission in the Continental Navy.

Nor was I forgotten. Master Morris spoke a kind word for me, and I was assured that I should have a midshipman’s commission in return for the one I had lost.