In Pursuit of Glory

by William H. White

  We had early on exercised the great guns in dumb show; then, once the hands became accustomed to running the long eighteen-pounders in and out of battery while underway, just pretending to load and fire them, swab them out and repeat the process endlessly, we were allowed to graduate to live firing exercises. And still people got hurt; carriages rolled over a foot, crushing it, or the flash burned an unwary hand, or worse. The prospect of a port call, with the associated joys of being on shore for a period, however brief, along with the possibility (assuming David’s surmise was correct) of a new and, hopefully, more exciting commission was most appealing to all of us.

  The rumor remained exactly that until midway through the first dogwatch when Captain Decatur appeared on the quarterdeck where Lieutenant Keane and I held the watch.

  “Mister Keane. Be so kind as to ease your sheets and bear off. Your course will west nor’west, a half west.”

  Without further comment, the captain turned to the weather rail and studied the sea through the deepening gloom of a September evening. Keane, for his part, shot me a glance, his faced wreathed in smiles, and stepped to the break of the quarterdeck, bawling for the sailing master.

  The orders were given, men jumped to the sheets and braces with an enthusiasm inspired by the incipient rumor of change that had grown to maturity in the six or seven hours since it began. And, in the fresh easterly, we bore off and made for Castle Rock at the opening of Naragansett Bay, the site of Newport, Rhode Island. And a run ashore for all of us.

  The light at the entrance to Naragansett Bay, perched on the top of Castle Rock, guided us into the narrow cut and we hardened up around the fort guarding the entrance to the harbor. Under tops’ls and mizzen, we set our best bower into the mud of Newport Harbor shortly before the middle watch would have commenced. And naturally, even though I had no official duties, I was on deck to watch; all of us were, being too excited about the likelihood of some shore time to even consider sleeping.

  But no one would be going ashore then. Captain Decatur had indicated to Mister Rowe that liberty would be granted as soon as he had reported his arrival, in the morning, and discovered why Chesapeake had been summoned. This information was passed to the officers and mids and quickly circulated through the fo’c’sle in varying degrees of accuracy.

  So the mids all gathered around our table sharing some claret which our senior Midshipman, Joshua Belcher, provided from his personal stores. Having never before been into this harbor, or the town, I listened attentively to those who had and their tales of grog shops, eating establishments, and, according to Silas Taggart, several houses of pleasure.

  “You mean ladies to entertain us, Silas?” The innocence of David Mosley’s query provoked great guffaws around the table, even from Taylor Scott who was barely a year older and, I am sure, no more knowledgeable than his junior messmate.

  “What are you laughing at, Scott? You have experience in these things?” Mallory—his ability to change his mood quickly was well known by us all—challenged the youngster. Mallory’s expression had gone from mirthful to harsh in a flash and, I think, caught poor Taylor all aback.

  “Why … well … that is … yes, I think I understand. I am not as young as Mosley, you know.” Scott blushed, stammered a bit, then became defensive.

  “Well, then, Mister experienced Midshipman Scott, why don’t you explain to young David here what Mister Taggart meant by ‘houses of pleasure?’”

  Silence. Taylor took a small swallow of his wine, gaining time to think, and turned to face his younger colleague.

  “Since you obviously are not educated in these matters, David, what our messmates were discussing are simply places where a man, sailor or officer … or even a midshipman, can go to take a drink, make conversation with members of the fairer sex, and relax. They are not unlike public houses, but with a better quality of drink and décor. And generally, the ladies with whom one might engage in conversation are of a higher class than one might find in a waterfront tavern.” He smiled, satisfied that he had scotched Mallory’s attempt to ridicule him and educated his comrade all in one stroke.

  Which provoked another gale of laughter from all of us. Poor Scott looked from one of us to the next, perplexed and blushing furiously.

  “Wha … what’s so funny? What did I say? Did I not get it right?”

  Which only served to fuel the laughter to an even more raucous level.

  “When you and young Mosley get a bit older, maybe grow some whiskers, Mister Scott, you will undoubtedly learn of the pleasures to be found in such an establishment. Until then, perhaps you might limit your travels ashore to eateries and maybe a library or two. I am sure there must be at least one here in Newport!” Daniel Mallory had enjoyed a laugh at his young messmates’ expense and now was finished; he had no interest in educating either of them, nor in continuing the joke.

  For my own part, I wondered if Mallory had any more firsthand knowledge of the subject than I, which was none. Of course, I had a pretty fair idea of what went on in those places, but only from comments I had heard from shipmates. And, I suppose, because I had been to war and ‘seen the elephant,’ no one challenged my experience!

  Some hours later, after the second bottle of claret was exhausted, conversation reduced to mumbled slurs, and the two younger of our mates nodding off in exhaustion, we all stumbled into our cots for a few hours of sleep, dreaming (to judge others by my own lights) of the joys of moving about on stationary ground, dining on well-prepared fresh food, and enjoying the camaraderie of a public house. And mayhaps, for some, the joys of a house of pleasure.

  When breakfast was served out and wolfed down, we tumbled out of our hatch to the spar deck, eagerly awaiting word that the captain had returned from his mission ashore. Alas! The boat was still absent and a scouring of the shoreline showed no sign of its imminent return. We milled about, watching listlessly as the crew finished holystoning the deck and beating it dry with swabs. Some of us chatted with officers, hoping to glean some worthy tidbit of information from them.

  “Henry. You are quite sure you didn’t catch any hint from Cap’n Decatur before he left of what he must suspect? Surely he said something that might have offered a clue as to what was happening.” I kept my voice low, finding it less painful for my head to do so. And hoping that my conspiratorial tone might induce my friend to give up some intelligence that he felt he could trust me with.

  All to no avail.

  “We’re all in the same boat, here, Oliver.” (He didn’t even smile at his play on words, giving me to suspect it was quite unintentional.) “I guess we’ll all have to wait until he finishes and comes back aboard. But, were I a betting man, I would imagine we’ll, at the very least, get a day or two to take a look around the town. You’ve not been in before, I collect?”

  “No, I have not. When I left in oh three on Argus, it was from Boston that we sailed. And returned to after our commission in the Mediterranean. Actually, Boston, Washington, and Norfolk are the only ports I have made in the United States. Have you been here before?” I knew he had grown up not far from here and hoped he would agree to show me the sights!

  “Oh yes. Several times in fact. You know I was raised just a few miles from this harbor and entered into the service right here—dreadful ship she was, a dull sailer named George Washington. Navy bought her as a merchant and converted her into a frigate. Gave her the name, I reckon, in the hopes that a lofty name might improve her abilities.” He laughed at the memory, then continued. “I am sure I can remember a few of the better eating and drinking establishments here, even though I have not been back, except for a brief visit to my father’s home, in three or four years. I’d be pleased to point out a few to you, if you like.

  “And you might be interested to know there is a gunboat building yard here doing the same job as Commodore Chauncey and your brother are doing in New York.”

  “That would be most kind of you. Your mention of the gunboats reminded me that I have a letter to Edward t
o post while we’re in. I must get it and put it somewhere where I will remember to take it with me. Assuming, of course, we do, in fact, get to go ashore.”

  “Boat approaching from the larboard quarter!” The cry from the mizzen top could not have been more galvanizing to us had it been announcing a ship sighting at sea. Any thought of my brother’s letter vanished as all hands rushed to the larboard rail, craning and stretching their necks to determine if it might be our captain. Lieutenant Allen and I shared his glass and it was my friend who made out the straight form of Stephen Decatur sitting tall in the sternsheets.

  “Won’t be long now, Oliver. We’ll find out everything in just a few minutes.”

  His words set off a buzz of excitement throughout the crew and, as Bosun Kelly piped the captain over the side, the hands were already lining up in their muster positions on deck. Some optimists were even in their dress uniforms, ready to ride the first liberty boat to the beach and, most likely, be drunk before the afternoon watch would start.

  “What is all this about, Mister Rowe? Did a chaplain come aboard to hold services?” Decatur inquired of our first lieutenant in a voice loud enough to be heard by most of the hands.

  Many of the more experienced men smiled, seeing the twinkle in the captain’s eye and the hint of a smile forming on his lips; the rest remained mute and hopeful. Henry nudged me in the ribs, nodding and smiling.

  “Seems in a good humor, Oliver. Must have some pleasing news to share out!”

  “I would suggest you muster the crew, Mister Rowe, but it would appear you are well ahead of me on that score.” Decatur continued walking aft, never breaking stride as the men in his way moved quickly to clear his path.

  “No, sir!” Our humorless first lieutenant replied in great earnest. “I have not called the hands to muster at all. Seems they think your return might mean some news … and mayhaps, a run ashore for some. Terrible eager they are, sir.”

  “Well then, as long as they are all formed up, I might as well share the news I have with everyone at once.” The captain mounted the three steps to the raised poop deck and, nodding at several of the officers who were also lined up right and proper, faced his crew.

  “Men. I have just now come from meeting with the commander of this port and can tell you that, while we have little to claim to our credit from the past four and more months at sea, he is not disappointed in us. Seems much of the commerce has been already halted and little, save coastal shipping, is going out. He offers his thanks for your stalwart performance of your duty and has welcomed us to stay for a fortnight, or until some work I want accomplished in the frigate is done.

  “Following that, we will return to the Chesapeake Bay and, I am told, a new commander will relieve me. I am to recommission the frigate United States, currently in ordinary at Washington, and man her sufficiently to sail. Without question, I will be choosing some of you to accompany me.”

  This caused quite a stir among, not only the seamen, but the officers and us midshipmen as well. An excited buzz began as a few whispered comments from one to another and then grew into an undercurrent of muted voices.

  “Silence. Silence, fore an’ aft!” Rowe’s command lifted above the hum and brought the silence he ordered.

  “Quite naturally, I will not be able to take all of you, or even all the officers. That decision will have to wait until such time as we are closer to our return to the Norfolk Navy Yard. But you should all be aware that I am most pleased with this crew, and would be proud to serve again with any of you.”

  “Will there be any shore leave, Cap’n?” Rowe’s voice, even when he spoke quietly, was heard by all of the officers and midshipmen, as well as the first two or three ranks of the men. It started another rumble of conversation, some of which was clearly audible from my position.

  “Aye, will we get ashore?”

  “Shore leave? How could they not grant it?”

  “Aye, been at sea too long to deny us a run ashore!”

  “My goodness,” Decatur managed with a perfectly straight face. “How could I forget? Of course, as the ship will be in for several weeks, liberty will be granted by watch commencing directly.”

  That loosed the pent-up excitement, which had brought the sailors to their muster stations in the first place. Men began slapping each other on the back, laughing and shouting over one another just to air their own plans for the next several hours. Some even began moving toward the ship’s boats, obviously with a view toward helping ready them for lowering.

  “Stand fast, there. You are not dismissed. Remain where you are.” Rowe shouted above the enthusiastic voices.

  As soon as they quieted down (and even some of the officers and all of the mids had added to the melee), the captain let his eyes rove over the group, clearly as pleased with his men as he had mentioned, then spoke quietly to his first lieutenant.

  “You may dismiss the men to the care of the petty officers and warrants, Mister Rowe. I shall be below, should you have need of me.” He then turned and, without another glance in our direction, disappeared into the scuttle leading to his Cabin.

  Rowe shouted above the new and louder outburst, which had greeted the captain’s words, and dismissed the men. There was a flurry of activity, laughing, and shouting, as three hundred and more sailors and Marines went into action, some racing to the fo’c’sle to change into shore-going attire, others making for the boats, removing their covers and rigging them to be lifted over the side, while still others, already dressed in dress uniforms, simply rushed to the break in the bulwark, hoping to make the first shore-bound boat.

  And nobody had even mentioned which watch section would be granted liberty first!

  “Oliver, get changed so we might visit the wonders of Newport!” Daniel Mallory grabbed my arm, moving me toward the hatch.

  “Are you sure we will be in the first section, Daniel?” While both he and I stood watches together, I still did not know whether we would be allowed off the ship first.

  “Aye, did you not hear Lieutenant Rowe? Just now he said to Mister Dunne and Mister Allen to let the larboard section have their leave. That includes us, I would think. We have stood most of our watches with the larboards. Now hurry, or we’ll have to wait to get ashore.” His eagerness was catching and I dropped down the hatch, my feet barely touching the steps of the ladder.

  When Mallory and I returned to the deck, even though it had taken us barely ten minutes to put on proper uniforms, the bulwark was lined with sailors and I realized we would be unlikely to catch a ride on the waiting cutter.

  “Here, now! Make way, you men. Officer coming through.”

  I recognized the voice instantly. Mister Peter Stoll, with whom I had had little truck since that day in the gunroom, strode through the throng of seamen, encouraging the slower among them to move with a push and a shove. The looks that followed him were surely not friendly or respectful!

  “Mallory. Are you not the same Mallory who sailed in Adams back in aught-five or thereabouts? I have been quite racking my brain to recall your face. As we have not had the pleasure of holding a watch together, our paths seem not to cross that frequently and I have been meaning to inquire for more than a month now. Was it not you in the cockpit in Adams?”

  “Yes sir. I sailed in the frigate then, two years, it was until she was put in ordinary.” Mallory’s tone gave no indication of the feelings he had shared with us some time ago, but I sensed a tension in him as the connection dawned on the unpleasant officer.

  “Well, then. You and Mister Baldwin must ride ashore with me and we’ll catch up on the past few years. A splendid idea, don’t you agree?”

  Silence. Mallory was quite at a loss to figure a way out of this. I saw the cutter making fast below us and the sailors beginning to clamber down the battens. The boat would be ready to leave in a trice.

  I patted my jacket pocket quite obviously and said, “Dan. Will you wait for me while I fetch the letter I have waiting to post to my brother? I must have le
ft it in my chest, such a hurry were we in to get ashore.” I had felt the letter securely nestled in my pocket, but Stoll couldn’t know that!

  “Yes, of course, Oliver. How could I not wait, after the plans we have made?” The relief that flooded into his face—even if it meant missing the first boat—at not having to share company with Stoll was all the thanks I needed for my gesture. He turned to Stoll.

  “You go ahead, sir. I must wait for Mister Baldwin to fetch his letter and wouldn’t want to hold you, or the boat, up. Seems like it’s ready for yourself to board even now. Perhaps we can meet at some place during the day.”

  Likely for that to happen! I thought as I heard my colleague’s words.

  “Ah, that will answer nicely, Mallory. Perhaps you and Baldwin would join me for dinner at the Jolly Anchor Tavern. Can’t miss it; right on the main thoroughfare of the town and quite popular with naval men. Shall we say around two?”

  “Aye, sir. I’ll surely try to make it, but should I not, please do not wait.”

  Good job, Dan. ‘Please do not wait,’ indeed. Should have told him we’d be along and left him waiting all afternoon! I dropped down the hatch and lost Stoll’s response, if he made one, in the general noise of the throng of excited men boarding the cutter.

  By the time I returned, the cutter was a safe pistol shot away from Chesapeake and loaded to capacity with sailors, Peter Stoll slouching in the stern sheets. I noted he was the only officer aboard.

  “Thanks for saving me, Oliver. I cannot imagine dining with that arrogant fool and having him dredge up all that bilge about Retaliation and our time in Adams. You have no idea the lengths I have gone to just to avoid him in this ship!”