Steel Belt; or, The Three Masted Goleta. A Tale of Boston Bay Read online

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  Steel Belt; or, The Three Masted Goleta. A Tale of Boston Bay

  J. H. Ingraham

  This page copyright © 2002 Blackmask Online.

  http://www.blackmask.com

  CHAPTER I.

  CHAPTER II.

  CHAPTER III.

  CHAPTER IV.

  CHAPTER V.

  CHAPTER VI.

  CHAPTER VII.

  CHAPTER VIII.

  CHAPTER IX.

  CHAPTER X.

  CHAPTER I.

  Boston Harbor at sunset—The flect becalmed— The skippers and the strange sail—The moonlight and the breeze from the sea—The frigate and goleta.

  The waters of Boston Bay slept without a ripple. The round green isles that swell here and there from its bosom were reflected in dark blue masses and bold outlines beneath the surface. It was near sunset. The skies were suffused and glowing with molten gold, and the waters were no less gorgeous than the sky. `As face answers to face in a glass,' so the mirror-like bay gave back the green islands, the golden firmament and the empurpled clouds that magnificently curtained the West. By inclining the head a little one could see another world beneath the wave. A soft haze, such as is peculiar to a September sunset blended sky and sea, and communicated a dreamy, pleasing indistinctness to the horizon. The domes and towers of the distant city enthroned upon her Three Hills; the stately edifices on the wide sweeping shores of the Bay; the fortresses upon its islands, all, were tinted with the richest light, reflected from the sunset sky and clouds; and the hundred vessels of every size and class that lay beclamed amid the scene, seemed to have exchanged their snow-white canvass for sails of purple and of gold.

  The breeze by which they had been impelled on their various courses, had died away in mid-afternoon, and left them there motionless. Each vessel was reflected in the watery world below, with the distinctness of outline of the reality; every spar and rope being answered from beneath; and the mock vessel was so like the true that it could not have been told from it, save that it, like the islands, was up side down. The men were reflected, moving about uposide down, walking, as it seemed, on their heads. It was all a beautiful scene. It seemed to be suspended in a liquid element, neither air nor water, between two worlds. Some of the vessels, especially the larger ones, had their sails brailed up, hanging in festoons from the yards; others let them remain to catch the first zephyr that should come in from seaward.

  The calm extended far out to sea, and the glassy ocean rocked upon its shining bosom many a vessel, diminished by the distance to a mere speak flashing back the sunbeams from the West, and sparking like a star. Near the land idly hung upon the arch of the smooth turquoise billow the graceful fisher's skiff swinging lightly to its undulations. Occasionally an unwieldly porpoise would roll his huge curving back out of the water, and blowing a cloud of silvery spray into the air, disappear; or a scool of ellwives dart upwards with one impulse and descend in a silvery shower with a rushing noise rippling the sea in a wide circle around.

  The sun had but a few minutes longer to remain above the horizon. Surrounded with the glories he had created he was slowly retiring behind the gorgeous curtains of rose and purple clouds he had gathered about his couch. But with his departure the splendor of the sunset scene did not cease. The crimson, violet, orange, rose and azure mingled and suffused the heavens from West to East, `till the Orient rivalled the West in magnificence. Slowly and gradually the celestial splendor diminished. The rose and purple changed into russet, and the golden lining of the Tyrian clouds became silver, and the Tyrian changed to black. The silvery lining then grew gray and gray mixed every where with the fading dyes, `till sky and earth and sea assumed the sober livery of evening. A glow, a blush yet lingered in the West and North, while the East became more and more a sober gray.

  Still the calm continued. Not a breath of air had stirred the polished waters of the bay. The evening breeze was withheld, and, save as they were slowly borne harborward by the scarcely perceptible tides the numerous vessels that dotted the bay, remained motionless.

  The last tinge of rose had not given place to gray in the North West, and the stars had but just began to stud the blue arch, when the Eastern horizon commenced to lighten up, at first with a soft silvery radiance, just tinged with the palest gold. It spread skyward growing brighter each moment, suffusing the East with the lovliest light—a fleecy, silvery light reflecting the most delicate tints of violet and orange. Suddenly, amid this exquisite and lovely rivalry of the gorgous scene of sunset—as gentle woman rivals man! the upper end of the round moon appeared above the sea. She rose like the sun with a veil of silver over his disc. As she ascended from the waters she flung a scarf of light across them to every mariner's eye that watched her rising, impatient for the ocean breeze that he knew would follow her appearance.

  Among the numerous vessels that reflected, as if from banks of snow, her pure beams, there was one which had before sunset drawn many a curious eye from the decks of the trading vessels that lay becalmed near her. She was a three masted caravel of about one hundred and eighty tons burthen, that lay abreast of the pyramid known as `Nix Mate.' It was a craft of a description entirely unfamiliar to the honest skippers who were watching her from the decks of their lumber vessels, and discussing her with that freedom of speech which republicans are apt to extend to every subject at all novel or that looks like mystery.

  There were, however, some of the rough coasters, who had sailed in the molasses trade to the West Indies, and who were, therefore, more informed as to the probable character of the stranger, which, like a hawk got among a flight of doves, was making her way with the Yankee craft into the harbor. They recollected having seen such in Matanzas and on the `main,' and knew they were used as trading luggers in those distant seas.

  `But what can the tarnal kritter be a-doin' away here to Bosting, sticking her nose in here among christian craft as if she had as good right here as we natives?' said the skipper of a lumber schooner from Penobscot in answer to the skipper of a Kennebec sloop, who lay becalmed just under his stern window and who had given him the information just detailed.

  Wall, Capting Pettingell,' answered the skipper, from the top of his lumber, which was piled half way up to the cross-trees, dodging, as he replied, to avoid a cloud of smoke, seasoned with onions, that floated towards him from the funnel of his caboose; `Wall, that's wot I cant guess. Taint of en Spanish vessels come to Boston Port, and sich a craft as this I never know'd ventur' out o' the West Indies!'

  `It's a mity odd looking fish, any how,' responded Captain Pettingel, looking through his hollow hand at the stranger, which lay about a third of a mile to the south and west of him; `three masts and not a darned bit of cross tree nor yard. Her sticks be as strait and smooth as a liberty pole. I dont like her looks, Capting Pinkham, do yew?' And this courteous gentleman took three strides forward and three strides aft on the plank that served him for a quarter-deck.

  `Wall, I can't zactly say as I do, Capting Pettingell,' responded the Penobscot skipper, shutting one eye and letting fall his under jaw as he surveyed more closely the suspicious vessel. `She don't to me look exactly like them Spanish traders I've seen to the West Indies. She looks too cranky and trim for that. Just see how clean she looks from stem to starn. She is as sharp in the bows as a pilot boat, and as strait as an arrow. That thing in my 'pinion is made more for sailin' than freightin!'

  `That's just my pinion, Capting, `said the Kennebec skipper with an air of consequence stickin' his hard brown hands into the pockets of an old blue broadcloth coat, which he wore instead of
a pea-jacket, and throwing back from his forehead an antiquated bell-top hat to get a better look at her. To tell you the truth, Capting Pinkham, I have my `spisions `bout that ar' three masted chap! I'm thinkin' he in these waters for no good. But thar's a mano'-war below `ll have an eye on him; so he better look out how he behaves if he aint any better than he should be, which it's my solemn 'pinion he aint. He musn't think he can take the same liberties in these here parts as he could in the West Indies. It's comin on night and I tell ye, capting, it becomes us to keep our eye on him. Josh!'

  `Feyther!' answered a white headed smoky faced urchin thrusting his head out of the caboose, which was perched upon a pyramid of shingles nearly on a level with the fore-cross trees.

  `Go down into the cabin and bring up my double-barrel `Bunker Hill' and my powder horn and bag 'o buck shot! I mean to show fight till I die, Capting?'

  `Don't be alarmed Capting Pettingel,' said the Penobscot skipper laughing at the seriousness of his friend; `I dare say he won't do any mischief if he should prove to be even a pirate. We are almost in harbor, and with that frigate becalmed below us, there is nothing to fear. Pirates look after higher game than you or I!'

  `Wall, it aint no harm bein' prepared, Capting. If they send their boat aboard me, I'll give 'em both barrels of Bunker Hill, if I can't do no more! I am a Captain in the militia when I'm to hum, and it wouldn't answer for Capting Eben Pettingell to give up his ship without firin' a shot. I'll be darned if I don't kind o' feel riled when I look at the kritter, and sort o' wish he was a Spanish pirate and would take a notion to board the `Polly Ann,' while I am her Captain; I guess they wouldn't want to come agen!'

  `You've pluck, I see Capting. But I don't think you will have a chance to show your military spirit. They seem to be lying becalmed there very quiet!'

  `I only wish they'd come aboard!' cried the valorous man shouldering his double barrelled gun and marching up and down the planks, which were laid above his cargo of shingles and clapboards! `I only wish they'd come!'

  This spirited and courageous individual then stopped and resting his gun upon a ratlin of the starboard main shrouds aimed at the vessel with the three masts: and made several appalling demonstrations of his intention to fire! There is no saying what might have been the consequences of his over-broiling militia valor to the object which had aroused it, when all at once he dropped his gun and, with a pale countenance, looked over to the deck of his friend the skipper.

  `Do you see that, Captaing Pinkham!— They are letting down a boat and men are gettin' in it! I do really believe they are comin' right aboard o' me coz I aimed my gun at 'em! 'Tisn't possible they overheard me, think 'tis captaing?'

  `I shouldn't wonder,' answered the other dryly.

  `What in natur shall we do, capting? I'm darned if they aint fillin' thar boat with men in red caps—pirates they tell al'ays wears red caps! I say, what shall we do?'

  `Give 'em both barrels of Bunker hill,' answered Captain Pinkham with a smile; yet closely watching the boat.

  Although the vessel had to him a suspicious appearance, he did not apprehend any danger from her in the harbor, just at sunset, with a frigate within gun shot and hundreds of coasting vessels in sight. Yet he did not observe this movement without interest. The boat filled with men and impelled by light oars, put off and pulled out towards them.

  `They are coming,' cried the valorous captain as pale as a sheet! `Shall I give it to em?'

  `And before his friend could reply, bang! bang! went both barrels of Bunker Hill, the buck shot ploughing up the glassy surface a hundred fathoms off, and falling a quarter of a mile short of the boat. At the same moment the boat changed its course and pulled out ahead of the Spanish Baxel, when it was seen that she was attached to her by a tow-line fastened to the end of her flying jib-boom.

  `There I told you I'd keep em off!' cried the courageous gentleman on seeing the boat haul ahead. `If it hadn't been for my bravery we'd had our throats cut and our head strung on a signal hilyard to make a necklace for her captain! Thank me Capting Pinkham'

  `You are an ass, Captain Pettingell. Dont you see the boat was not coming here at all; but only put off to tow! The vessel was drifting towards the Nix Mate rock and they have got their boat out to pull her off into the channel. '

  `Wall, so they be!' answered the discomfited warrior `But if they'd ha been coming that would a skeered em I know! It ant done no harm. They heered it and seed the shot in the water and know we are ready for em if they get up to any o' their piratish capers!'

  `If they'd come nigher, captain, I should have expected to see you jump into your boat and pull for the next island! I dont think your gun frightened them much! I dare say they thought you were shooting at the seagulls that are flying about us!'

  `Captain Pinkham, you may jest; but I tell ye, that chap is a dangerous neighbor. If I was the captain up to the castle I wouldnt let him pass, and if he tried to I'd skin him, I'm plagued if I wouldnt! You see! That boat ant out there for nothin! Its only playin' bunkum.

  And this bold man after calling for his supper, set down and ate his biscuit and fried onions with his eye on the enemy, and Bunker-Hill placed loaded and ready cocked across his knee.

  A like curiosity and interest was felt on board the other craft that were in sight of the stranger, and to all she presented a suspicion aspect. Those who, when the calm fell, found themselves near her, towed themselves with alacrity out of her way, for those who came nighest to her least liked her looks.

  In the meanwhile the object of the general feeling of fear and dislike that pervaded the fleet among which she had crept, lay upon the waveless surface of the water as if sleeping between two skies. Below her was painted in bold outlines, hull, spar and canvass inverted. She was very long and narrow and lay crouching as it were, like a sleeping grey hound, close to the water. Her hull was of a dark bronze hue, relieved by a narrow bead painted steel color, and intended to represent a band of shining steel. Her decks were closely shut in from stem to stern by her bulwarks, above which could only be seen the caps of her crew as they moved about. There was visible no port, no gangway for admittance on board. All was close aud mysterious. What transpired on her decks was concealed from all eyes. This feature presented a striking contrast to the high open decks of the Yankee craft around her, where skipper and crew lived as exposed as if on the roof of a meeting-house. This mystery the skippers did not by any means like. They could not think any thing honest could be going on when they built up the sides of their vessel so high `to keep folks from seeing.' Many a skipper shook his head and prophecied about her, as well as that respectable gentleman who was the valorous possessor of `Bunker Hill.'

  The strange vessel as she lay suspended as it were between two worlds, presented to the eye of the true seamen a fine spectacle. Her model was beautiful. Its symmetry as faultless as that of a regatta club-boat! She sat upon the flood with two of her graceful lateen sails extended upon her slender masts like a swan with its wings outspread to catch the first air that stirred. Her three masts were slender single sticks, the main being full seventy feet long, and raking with a hold but graceful inclination aft. They were stained a bright vermillion, and the slender round like yards that obliquely crossed them supporting the triangular sail were black and polished like ebony. There were but few ropes visible, and the standing rigging was very slight and without rattlings; as the sails were hoisted from the deck, yard and all, by halyards rooved through a truck at the masthead. There were also halyards for pencil flying topsails which were not now aloft, her fore and main sails only being hoisted. She carried also a jib and flying jib, both of which were set. A more graceful, novel and picturesque looking object altogether, as she lay idly upon the water, has seldom met the eye of either landsman or seamen than this foreign looking craft. There was no sign of armament, nothing to indicate whether she was an armed vessel or only a simply merchantman. That she was Spanish was evident from her rig, and the dark red capped crew that showed themselves in
the boat. Her ensign hang drooping over the stern, and could not be made out; though from the different colors it displayed in its closed folds, it promised the first breath of wind that should lift it to display the broad insignia of Spain.

  The sun set; and the boat which had been sent out ahead was ordered aboard, and the vessel lay as before dark, silent and mysterious. She had towed half a mile farther into the harbor, and while, as the current began to set seaward, the vessels around dropped their anchors to hold their ground, she threw out from her bows two pairs of huge sweeps and began heavily and slowly to work them unseen within deck.

  Gradually the sunset glories of the closing day blended with the sober gray of night, and still the three masted schooner or ship worked her oars, and by this process held her own. The evident dislike on board of her to dropping anchor did not escape the vigilant observation of the Yankee skippers, and especially of the bold captain of the shingle sloop, who with `Bunker Hil' charged within three inches of the muzzle, had not left his deck or taken his eye off the suspicious fellow since the sun went down.

  The moon at length rose upon the scene and with her came the first `paw' of the night breeze that had been so long delayed. Her bright wake was rippled and the young waves began to dance in her path and sparkle with merry light. The vessels most seaward first felt the wind as it set towards land, and were first in motion; some standing out of the harbor close hauled to make an offing, but the greater part of them seeking the port directly before them. It blew gently and steadily, scarce ruffling the crest of a single wave and sending the vessels in at about three knots speed. Those that lay in the more open channel and passes between the islands next took the wind and were set in motion, while others sheltered by islands were slower in spreading to it their idle canvass. At length the caravel took it on her quarter and gracefully yielding to the invisible impulse shot onward, her sweeps at the same time being drawn aboard by unseen hands, and her three light flying topsails a moment after were seen ascending from the deck like snow-white birds of gigantic size, and spreading their wings to the silvery radiance of the moon. Then next the breeze reached the Penobscot schooner and sloop, and they also were in motion. Soon the whole fleet, a few moments before so still and inactive, was alive and the cheering song of the heave-o-yo! as anchor after anchor was hove up, gave place to the rippling music of a hundred prows cutting the limpid surface of the joyous sparkling bay.