<SPAN name="startofbook"></SPAN>
<h1>CAPTAIN JOHN CRANE<br/> 1800-1815</h1>
<p class="center">BY</p>
<p class="center">THOMAS W. KNOX</p>
<h2>CAPTAIN JOHN CRANE.</h2>
<h2 id="CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I.</h2>
<p class="i2">WHO AND WHAT I AM.—MY EARLY LIFE.—LEAVING
HOME, AND WHY I LEFT IT.</p>
<p class="p2">I am a modest, bashful sort of man, though I say
it myself, and have been a sailor for a goodly number
of years. Perhaps on board a ship I am not so
bashful, and especially when in command of her. I
don't feel altogether at home on shore, although I've
given up the sea, and propose to spend the rest
of my life on land. I was born on the 25th of
November, 1783, the day of the evacuation of the
city of New York by the British, at the end of the
Revolutionary War.</p>
<p>It is proper to say that my arrival into the
United States (and the world) on that day attracted
much less attention throughout the country than
did the departure of our enemies, but there's nothing
surprising in that. I suppose you might have found,
a few years ago, a good many people throughout<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</SPAN></span>
these United States who were born on the same day
as George Washington; but they haven't attracted
any attention, while he has filled the eyes of the
world. At any rate, he filled the stomachs of the
British with all the fighting they wanted when they
came here to subjugate the colonies.</p>
<p>My name is John Crane, or, rather, Captain Crane,
at your service. I am, or rather was, a sea-captain,
and for a pretty fair time too. People keep on calling
me "Captain," although I've given up sea life
and settled down on shore. But that's the way of
things generally; which, after all, isn't so bad. If a
man has done something and won a handle to his
name, I think it is fair to let him keep it, and so I
never correct folks when they call me Captain Crane.
But when I sign a paper of any sort, no matter
whether it's a letter to anybody or a legal document,
I always write "John Crane," and nothing more. I
never stick Captain on in front of it, as some do that
I know.</p>
<p>Since I settled down on land I've told a good
many of my experiences to neighbors and friends,
and they've urged me to write a book. I've hesitated
a good while about it,—there's where my bashfulness
comes in,—but, after all, I don't see why I
shouldn't do as others have done. There's many a
book on sea life by men who have never been on<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</SPAN></span>
blue water a tenth part as much as I've been
there.</p>
<p>I can't spell very well, that was always a weak
point with me; but I'll leave it to the printer to correct
my spelling, and also my grammar, if I slip up
in it. I never had a chance for much schooling; I
had a little of the three R's, Reading, 'Riting, and
'Rithmetic, but precious little it was.</p>
<p>I was born among the hills of New Hampshire, in
the township of Pembroke, about fifty miles from
Portsmouth, a seaport of that State, and sixty or
seventy miles from Boston.</p>
<p>As my birth occurred on what we may consider
the last day of the War for Independence, I can't be
supposed to remember anything about it of my own
knowledge, but my earliest recollections are very
much concerned with it. It was the great topic of
conversation among the people in the region where I
lived. My father, and nearly every other man in the
neighborhood, had fought in the Continental Army,
and they were very fond of "fighting their battles
o'er again" in front of their firesides. My father
was a soldier from the beginning of the war until
1777, when he was badly wounded and came home.
It was late in 1778 when he recovered, but he wasn't
able to go back to the army again. So he married,
and you'll know about his family farther on.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</SPAN></span>
My early life was one of hardship. My parents
had a small farm which we cultivated,—father and
mother, and three brothers of us,—with our own
hands. In fact, we could not well do otherwise, as
we were too poor to hire any help. When he was
twenty-one years old, James, my eldest brother, left
home, went to a neighboring town, where he hired
out with a farmer, and in less than a year was married
to the farmer's daughter. Luckily for him, his
wife's father had a good-sized farm, and she was an
only child. So it happened that the newly married
pair settled down on the farm to take care of the old
folks; and in due time, when they were gathered to
their fathers, my brother and his wife fell into possession
of the farm and the property connected with it.</p>
<p>My second brother followed the example of the first,
except that he did not marry a farm along with his
girl. I was seventeen years old at the time he became
engaged. Months, yes, I may say years, before this
event, I had thought and dreamed about going to sea.
Neither of my brothers cared for it, but I believe I
was a born sailor if there ever was one. I longed to
look upon the ocean and sail upon it, and felt that I
would gladly pass the whole of my life on the waters.
I read all that I could find about it; but I'm sorry
to say that books were scarce in our neighborhood,
and opportunities for reading were very small. I was<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</SPAN></span>
greatly impressed by various passages in the Bible
referring to the sea, especially the one in the Psalms
which reads,—</p>
<p class="i2 p2">"They that go down to the sea in ships, that do business in
great waters; these see the works of the Lord and His wonders
in the deep."</p>
<p class="p2">So, when the family was talking about my second
brother's future prospects, I suggested that it was
time for me to be doing something, and if father
and mother consented, I would go to sea. There
was some objection at first; but finally it was agreed
and settled upon that my second brother should
bring his bride to the house, and the twain would
live there and care for the old folks, just as my
elder brother and his wife were caring for her
parents, while I would go to sea.</p>
<p>Then the question arose, "Should I go from
Portsmouth or from Boston?" It was finally decided
that as Boston was the larger place, and had a
greater amount of shipping than Portsmouth, I had
better go to Boston, and sail from there.</p>
<p>It was along in winter when this decision was
reached. My departure was deferred until spring,
not that there was very much for me to do at home
in that season of the year, but because the traveling
would be very bad when the roads were covered with
snow and the weather cold.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</SPAN></span>
As the time approached for me to leave home I
began to feel reluctant at going away. One day I
was talking with David Taylor, one of my friends
and schoolmates, at least he was my schoolmate for
eight or ten weeks every year, and about my own
age.</p>
<p>When I told him I was going to sea he jumped
at the idea, and said he would like to go too; like
myself, he had thought and dreamed about the ocean,
and nothing would suit him better than sailing over
it. He said he would speak to his father that very
evening, and try and get his consent. The Taylor
family was situated very much like mine, and I
thought it quite likely that David would have no
difficulty in obtaining the paternal permission.</p>
<p>The next morning, when we met at school, David
shook his head, and said,—</p>
<p>"I'm afraid I can't go with you, John. I spoke to
father last night, and what do you think he said?"</p>
<p>"From the way you talk, David," said I, "I suppose
he wouldn't listen to your going to sea."</p>
<p>"Yes, that's it exactly. He said I had better stay
at home, and if there wasn't room for me on the farm
I could hire out among the neighbors. 'There's Major
M'Clary,' said he, 'who has a big farm, and hires half
a dozen hands most of the time, and a dozen of them
in haying-time. You can hire out with him, I know.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</SPAN></span>
I fought under him at Bunker Hill, and I know he'd
be willing to help along a son of mine.'"</p>
<p>"Well," I answered, "what did you say to that?"</p>
<p>"I told him I didn't want to hire out as a farm
hand, and possibly be a hired man all my life. I'd
rather go away and try to do something in the world,
and I believed there was a chance for me if I'd only
try it."</p>
<p>"We didn't have a very long talk about it," continued
David; "but at the end of what we had to
say father remarked that he would think it over, and
perhaps would see Mr. Crane and talk with him about
it."</p>
<p>"That's all right, David," I said, "that's all right.
If Mr. Taylor has consented to think it over and
talk with my father, I'm pretty sure that you'll go
with me in the spring. I haven't seen much of the
world, and don't know many folks in it; but when
a man is willing to consider a thing, and talk about
it with somebody else who has already considered it, it
shows that he's a reasonable being, and I feel sure my
father will make Mr. Taylor understand that it will
be better for you to go out into the world than stay
here at home. There are already too many mouths
to feed in your family, and you'll have to go away
from home very soon, anyway."</p>
<p>Then I told David some of the things I had read<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</SPAN></span>
about the sea and a sailor's life. I told him particularly
of the prize money that was obtained whenever
a ship-of-war captured an enemy's vessel. Then
I spoke of the wages that sailors obtained, especially
after they got to be mates and captains; in fact, I
dwelt a good deal more on the captain's wages than
I did on those of the mariner before the mast. I
had already said the same things to my father and
mother, and that was one of the reasons why they
consented to my going to sea. My mother, bless her
loving heart! believed that her son would come home
a captain before the end of the year.</p>
<p>Ambitious as I was, I could not take her rosy view
of the case, but I did not undeceive her. My father
was less sanguine; but of course he was proud of
his son, and believed I would succeed. A mother's
love and hopes are always far greater than a father's,
but in saying this I do not mean to cast any aspersion
upon the head of our family. He was affectionate
to us all; and though he was severe at times, he
was always kind and just.</p>
<p>Well, it was not long before Mr. Taylor and his
wife came to our house and spent an evening. I
was sent on a visit at Mr. Taylor's in order to have
me out of the way during the conference, and my
brother Charles went to call on the girl to whom
he was engaged.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</SPAN></span>
The evening was an anxious one for both David
and myself, and the time passed slowly. We tried
to lay plans and talk of our future, but it was very
difficult to do this when we did not know whether
David would be permitted to accompany me or not.
I went home at half-past eight o'clock, the time agreed
upon, and met David's father and mother about half-way
between our two houses.</p>
<p>I stopped and talked with them a moment, said
that I had had a pleasant visit at their house, and
they in return said they had passed an agreeable evening
at my home. I hoped they would tell me what
decision had been reached, but they said not a word
on the subject that was uppermost in my heart. I
had half a mind to ask them, but concluded that it
would be impertinent for me to do so. So I bade
them good-night, and proceeded on my way.</p>
<p>When I reached home my mother had gone to bed,
and my father was just going. With some hesitation
I asked if it had been determined whether David
would go to sea or not.</p>
<p>"No," was the reply, "it hasn't yet been decided
positively, as Mr. Taylor said he must sleep on it.
He would never decide anything of such importance
without sleeping on it at least one night."</p>
<p>"Do you think he will consent?" I asked.</p>
<p>"I hardly know what to say on that point," replied<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</SPAN></span>
my father; "but I think he will say yes when the
time comes to decide. He is just as sorry to have
David go away from home as we are to have you go;
but he realizes that his farm is small, like ours, there
are several mouths to feed, and times are very hard.
I think you may take it for granted that David will
go to sea with you, but don't be too certain about
it."</p>
<p>With that my father bade me good-night, and I
went away to my bed in the garret. We boys slept
up under the roof, for the reason that there was no
other convenient place for us to sleep in. The roof
was so low that we had to stoop, except directly under
the ridge-pole, in order to avoid hitting our heads.
The place was hot in summer, but cool enough in
winter, as there were plenty of cracks to let in the
air and cold. In the place where I lay the roof was
not more than two feet above me; and many a night,
when rain was falling, I have been lulled to sleep by
the pattering of the drops on the roof.</p>
<p>I did not see David the next day, as for some reason
or other he did not come to school. The second morning
afterwards he was there bright and early; and
before he spoke I could see by the luster of his eye,
and the pleased expression on his face, that the decision
had been reached, and was in favor of what he
wanted to do. As he rushed toward me he said,—</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</SPAN></span>
"What do you suppose father told me this morning?"</p>
<p>"I don't suppose anything about it," said I; "I
know that he gave his permission for you to go to
sea with me."</p>
<p>"Yes, that's it exactly," he replied; "but how did
you find it out?"</p>
<p>"A little bird from the sky told me," I answered
evasively; "never mind how I found it out; I'll tell
you sometime."</p>
<p>In the five or ten minutes that passed before the
teacher arrived and school was called to order, we
talked as rapidly as our tongues would permit. We
had a great deal to say, and we said it quickly. It
was the same at the noon recess, when we strolled
off together and indulged in that boyish occupation
of building castles in the air. In imagination we
went to sea together, as boys do in the story books;
we did our duty faithfully and zealously, and were
rewarded by rapid promotion. In less than three
years we were both captains of ships, and regretted
that the United States did not possess a powerful
navy, so that we might both reach the grade of commodore
or admiral before we had attained the age
of twenty-five. At least, that was David's view of
the matter; but I suggested to him that I never read
of an admiral under fifty or sixty years at least.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</SPAN></span>
This cooled his ardor somewhat, but by no means
discouraged him.</p>
<p>The winter wore on, and spring arrived in due time.
Meanwhile, the traveling outfits for David and myself
were prepared. In our township there were two or
three women whose husbands were killed during the
Revolution, and who supported themselves by making
clothing for men and boys in cases where the garments
could not be made by their wives or mothers.
Usually my mother made the clothing for my father
and the boys, and an economical method was pursued,
a suit of clothes doing duty through the whole masculine
part of the family.</p>
<p>Father would have a new suit of homespun, and
when it became a little shabby it was made over for
my brother James. After him it was made over for
my second brother Charles, and after Charles for myself.
Being the youngest, I was permitted to wear
the suit out, and it was a pretty bad looking lot of
garments by the time I was through with it. Sometimes
I had a suit that had been made for Charles,
but never do I remember having a brand new one.</p>
<p>As I was going away from home it was deemed
important that I should have a specially good suit.
Consequently, Mrs. Green was called in to construct
it, and I was very proud of the garments when they
were finished. It was the best suit of clothes I had<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</SPAN></span>
ever possessed, and I wore them to church every
Sunday after their completion until my departure.
Extra stockings and an extra shirt completed my
wardrobe; and these, with the new suit of clothes,
made a fairly good bundle, which I was to carry on
my shoulder. The last suit which brother Charles
had discarded was made over for me to wear on my
journey, so that when I was ready to leave home I
presented quite a respectable appearance.</p>
<p>When the time came for us to start it was a great
pain for me to say good-by to parents and brothers.
I was anxious enough to go, and my young head
and heart were full of ambition and of high hopes
for the future. But at the same time I realized that
I might be going away never to return; and, though
none of us said so, I'm sure that the same thought
was in every mind.</p>
<p>My mother broke down and cried when I kissed
her farewell; my father made a great effort to preserve
his composure, but I could see the tears standing
in his eyes as he shook my hand and gave me his
blessing with a choked voice. I learned afterward
that when I stepped out of the door he yielded to
his sorrow, as my mother had already done, and sank
speechless and almost fainting into a chair. It was
practically the same at David's house; yes, there was
more grief there than at my own home, as David had<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</SPAN></span>
two sisters, while I had none. The girls were very
fond of their brother, and when the time came for
him to bid them good-by they were so heart-broken
that they were unable to speak.</p>
<p>I am not ashamed to say that I cried, and bitterly
too, when I left my father's house. I said so to
David before the day was out, and he frankly acknowledged
that he had cried too when he left home.</p>
<p>Mr. Taylor's house was nearer to Boston than was
my father's; and so it was agreed that David would
watch for me on the morning when we were to start,
and come out and join me as I passed. You may
wonder why I did not go into the house to say good-by
to the Taylor family. The fact is, I foresaw that
I might not be wanted there at that moment, and so
I called at David's house the evening before, partly
to arrange our plans, but more especially to say good-by
to the Taylors. You already understand that I
was much attached to David, and I will add that I
was especially fond of his eldest sister, who was a year
younger than himself. To say good-by to her was
no small effort for me, and I felt that it would be
better for us to make our adieus in the evening, rather
than in the morning, when the whole household would
be plunged in grief at David's departure.</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<p class="p6"><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</SPAN></span></p>
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