The Pilot: A Tale of the Sea

“What course would you advise me to pursue, Mr. Boltrope?”

The weather beaten seaman who was thus called on to break through the difficulties of a knotty point with his opinion, laid one of his short, bony hands on the table, and began to twirl an inkstand with great industry, while with the other he conveyed a pen to his mouth, which was apparently masticated with all the relish that he could possibly have felt had it been a leaf from the famous Virginian weed. But perceiving that he was expected to answer, after looking first to his right hand and then to his left, he spoke as follows, in a hoarse, thick voice, in which the fogs of the ocean seemed to have united with sea-damps and colds to destroy everything like melody:

“If this matter is ordered, it is to be done, I suppose,” he said; “for the old rule runs, ‘obey orders, if you break owners’; though the maxim which says, ‘one hand for the owner, and t’other for yourself,’ is quite as good, and has saved many a hearty fellow from a fall that would have balanced the purser’s books. Not that I mean a purser’s books are not as good as any other man’s; but that when a man is dead, his account must be closed, or there will be a false muster. Well, if the thing is to be done, the next question is, how is it to be done? There is many a man that knows there is too much canvas on a ship, who can’t tell how to shorten sail. Well, then, if the thing is really to be done, we must either land a gang to seize them, or we must show false lights and sham colors, to lead them off to the ship. As for landing, Captain Munson, I can only speak for one man, and that is myself; which is to say, that if you run the ship with her jib-boom into the king of England’s parlor-windows, why, I’m consenting, nor do I care how much of his crockery is cracked in so doing; but as to putting the print of my foot on one of his sandy beaches, if I do, that is always speaking for only one man, and saving your presence, may I hope to be d – d.”

The young men smiled as the tough old seaman uttered his sentiments so frankly, rising with his subject, to that which with him was the climax of all discussion; but his commander, who was but a more improved scholar from the same rough school, appeared to understand his arguments entirely, and without altering a muscle of his rigid countenance, he required the opinion of the junior lieutenant.

The young man spoke firmly, but modestly, though the amount of what he said was not much more distinct than that uttered by the master, and was very much to the same purpose, with the exception that he appeared to entertain no personal reluctance to trusting himself on dry ground.

The opinions of the others grew gradually more explicit and clear, as they ascended in the scale of rank, until it came to the turn of the captain of marines to speak. There was a trifling exhibition of professional pride about the soldier, in delivering his sentiments on a subject that embraced a good deal more of his peculiar sort of duty than ordinarily occurred in the usual operations of the frigate.

“It appears to me, sir, that the success of this expedition depends altogether upon the manner in which it is conducted.” After this lucid opening, the soldier hesitated a moment, as if to collect his ideas for a charge that should look down all opposition, and proceeded. “The landing, of course, will be effected on a fair beach, under cover of the frigate’s guns, and could it be possibly done, the schooner should be anchored in such a manner as to throw in a flanking fire on the point of debarkation. The arrangements for the order of march must a good deal depend on the distance to go over; though I should think, sir, an advanced party of seamen, to act as pioneers for the column of marines, should be pushed a short distance in front, while the baggage and baggage-guard might rest upon the frigate, until the enemy was driven into the interior, when it could advance without danger. There should be flank-guards, under the orders of two of the oldest midshipmen; and a light corps might be formed of the topmen to co-operate with the marines. Of course, sir, Mr. Griffith will lead, in person, the musket-men and boarders, armed with their long pikes, whom I presume he will hold in reserve, as I trust my military claims and experience entitle me to the command of the main body.”

“Well done, field-marshal!” cried Barnstable, with a glee that seldom regarded time or place; “you should never let salt-water mould your buttons; but in Washington’s camp, ay! and in Washington’s tent, you should swing your hammock in future. Why, sir, do you think we are about to invade England?”

“I know that every military movement should be executed with precision, Captain Barnstable,” returned the marine. “I am too much accustomed to hear the sneers of the sea-officers, to regard what I know proceeds from ignorance. If Captain Munson is disposed to employ me and my command in this expedition, I trust he will discover that marines are good for something more than to mount guard and pay salutes.” Then, turning haughtily from his antagonist, he continued to address himself to their common superior, as if disdaining further intercourse with one who, from the nature of the case, must be unable to comprehend the force of what he said. “It will be prudent, Captain Munson, to send out a party to reconnoitre, before we march; and as it may be necessary to defend ourselves in case of a repulse, I would beg leave to recommend that a corps be provided with entrenching tools, to accompany the expedition. They would be extremely useful, sir, in assisting to throw up fieldworks; though, I doubt not, tools might be found in abundance in this country, and laborers impressed for the service, on an emergency.”

This was too much for the risibility of Barnstable, who broke forth in a fit of scornful laughter, which no one saw proper to interrupt; though Griffith, on turning his head to conceal the smile that was gathering on his own face, perceived the fierce glance which the pilot threw at the merry seaman, and wondered at its significance and impatience. When Captain Munson thought that the mirth of the lieutenant was concluded, he mildly desired his reasons for amusing himself so exceedingly with the plans of the marine.

“Tis a chart for a campaign!” cried Barnstable, “and should be sent off express to Congress, before the Frenchmen are brought into the field!”

“Have you any better plan to propose, Mr. Barnstable?” inquired the patient commander.

“Better! ay, one that will take no time, and cause no trouble, to execute it,” cried the other; “’tis a seaman’s job, sir, and must be done with a seaman’s means.”

“Pardon me, Captain Barnstable,” interrupted the marine, whose jocular vein was entirely absorbed in his military pride; “if there be service to be done on shore, I claim it as my right to be employed.”

“Claim what you will, soldier; but how will you carry on the war with a parcel of fellows who don’t know one end of a boat from the other?” returned the reckless sailor. “Do you think that a barge or a cutter is to be beached in the same manner you ground firelock, by word of command? No, no, Captain Manual – I honor your courage, for I have seen it tried, but d – e if – –”

“You forget, we wait for your project, Mr. Barnstable,” said the veteran.

“I crave your patience, sir; but no project is necessary. Point out the bearings and distance of the place where the men you want are to be found, and I will take the heel of the gale, and run into the land, always speaking for good water and no rocks. Mr. Pilot, you will accompany me, for you carry as true a map of the bottom of these seas in your head as ever was made of dry ground. I will look out for good anchorage; or if the wind should blow offshore, let the schooner stand off and on, till we should be ready to take the broad sea again. I would land, out of my whaleboat, with long Tom and a boat’s crew, and finding out the place you will describe, we shall go up, and take the men you want, and bring them aboard. It’s all plain sailing; though, as it is a well-peopled country, it may be necessary to do our shore work in the dark.”

“Mr. Griffith, we only wait for your sentiments,” proceeded the captain, “when, by comparing opinions, we may decide on the most prudent course.”

The first lieutenant had been much absorbed in thought during the discussion of the subject, and might have been, on that account, better prepared to give his opinion with effect. Pointing to the man who yet stood behind him, leaning on a gun, he commenced by asking:

“Is it your intention that man shall accompany the party?”

“It is.”

“And from him you expect the necessary information, sir, to guide our movements?”

“You are altogether right.”

“If, sir, he has but a moiety of the skill on the land that he possesses on the water, I will answer for his success,” returned the lieutenant, bowing slightly to the stranger, who received the compliment by a cold inclination of his head. “I must desire the indulgence of both Mr. Barnstable and Captain Manual,” he continued, “and claim the command as of right belonging to my rank.”

“It belongs naturally to the schooner,” exclaimed the impatient Barnstable.

“There may be enough for us all to do,” said Griffith, elevating a finger to the other, in a manner and with an impressive look that was instantly comprehended. “I neither agree wholly with the one nor the other of these gentlemen. Tis said that, since our appearance on the coast, the dwellings of many of the gentry are guarded by small detachments of soldiers from the neighboring towns.”

“Who says it?” asked the pilot, advancing among them with a suddenness that caused a general silence.

“I say it, sir,” returned the lieutenant, when the momentary surprise had passed away.

“Can you vouch for it?”

“I can.”

“Name a house, or an individual, that is thus protected?”

Griffith gazed at the man who thus forgot himself in the midst of a consultation like the present, and yielding to his native pride, hesitated to reply. But mindful of the declarations of his captain and the recent services of the pilot, he at length said, with a little embarrassment of manner:

“I know it to be the fact, in the dwelling of a Colonel Howard, who resides but a few leagues to the north of us.”

The stranger started at the name, and then raising his eye keenly to the face of the young man, appeared to study his thoughts in his varying countenance. But the action, and the pause that followed, were of short continuance. His lip slightly curled, whether in scorn or with a concealed smile, would have been difficult to say, so closely did it resemble both, and as he dropped quietly back to his place at the gun, he said:

“’Tis more than probable you are right, sir; and if I might presume to advise Captain Munson, it would be to lay great weight on your opinion.”

Griffith turned, to see if he could comprehend more meaning in the manner of the stranger than his words expressed, but his face was again shaded by his hand, and his eyes were once more fixed on the chart with the same vacant abstraction as before.

“I have said, sir, that I agree wholly neither with Mr. Barnstable nor Captain Manual,” continued the lieutenant, after a short pause. “The command of this party is mine, as the senior officer, and I must beg leave to claim it. I certainly do not think the preparation that Captain Manual advises necessary; neither would I undertake the duty with as little caution as Mr. Barnstable proposes. If there are soldiers to be encountered, we should have soldiers to oppose them; but as it must be sudden boat-work, and regular evolutions must give place to a seaman’s bustle, a sea-officer should command. Is my request granted, Captain Munson?”

The veteran replied, without hesitation:

“It is, sir; it was my intention to offer you the service, and I rejoice to see you accept it so cheerfully.”

Griffith with difficulty concealed the satisfaction with which he listened to his commander, and a radiant smile illumined his pale features, when he observed:

“With me then, sir, let the responsibility rest. I request that Captain Manual, with twenty men, may be put under my orders, if that gentleman does not dislike the duty.” The marine bowed, and cast a glance of triumph at Barnstable. “I will take my own cutter, with her tried crew, go on board the schooner, and when the wind lulls, we will run in to the land, and then be governed by circumstances.”

The commander of the schooner threw back the triumphant look of the marine, and exclaimed, in his joyous manner:

‘”Tis a good plan, and done like a seaman, Mr. Griffith. Ay, ay, let the schooner be employed; and if it be necessary, you shall see her anchored in one of their duck-ponds, with her broadside to bear on the parlor-windows of the best house in the island! But twenty marines! they will cause a jam in my little craft.”

“Not a man less than twenty would be prudent,” returned Griffith. “More service may offer than that we seek.”

Barnstable well understood his allusion, but still he replied:

“Make it all seamen, and I will give you room for thirty. But these soldiers never know how to stow away their arms and legs, unless at a drill. One will take the room of two sailors; they swing their hammocks athwart-ships, heads to leeward, and then turn out wrong end uppermost at the call. Why, damn it, sir, the chalk and rottenstone of twenty soldiers will choke my hatches!”

“Give me the launch, Captain Munson!” exclaimed the indignant marine, “and we will follow Mr. Griffith in an open boat, rather than put Captain Barnstable to so much inconvenience.”

“No, no, Manual,” cried the other, extending his muscular arm across the table, with an open palm, to the soldier; “you would all become so many Jonahs in uniform, and I doubt whether the fish could digest your cartridge-boxes and bayonet-belts. You shall go with me, and learn, with your own eyes, whether we keep the cat’s watch aboard the Ariel that you joke about.”

The laugh was general, at the expense of the soldier, if we except the pilot and the commander of the frigate. The former was a silent, and apparently an abstracted, but in reality a deeply interested listener to the discourse; and there were moments when he bent his looks on the speakers, as if he sought more in their characters than was exhibited by the gay trifling of the moment. Captain Munson seldom allowed a muscle of his wrinkled features to disturb their repose; and if he had not the real dignity to repress the untimely mirth of his officers, he had too much good nature to wish to disturb their harmless enjoyments. He expressed himself satisfied with the proposed arrangements, and beckoned to his steward to place before them the usual beverage, with which all their consultations concluded.

The sailing-master appeared to think that the same order was to be observed in their potations as in council, and helping himself to an allowance which retained its hue even in its diluted state, he first raised it to the light, and then observed: