themselves together at once, and, gallantly led,
sprang aft, handling their pistols and pikes and wav-
ing their cutlasses. Nason was shot in a moment
FOR LOVE OF COUNTRY
by HoUins' pistol, Beauchamp was cut in two by a
tremendous sweep of the arm of the mighty Bentley,
and the combat became at once general. Slowly but
surely the Americans were pressed back ; the gang-
ways were cleared ; the quarter-deck was gained ; one
by one the brave defenders had fallen. The battle
was about over when Seymour noticed a man run-
ning out in the foreyard of the Yarmouth with a
hand-grenade. He raised his pistol and fired; the
man fell; but another resolutely started to follow
Bentley and a few other men, and one or two
officers and a midshipman, were all who were able
to bear arms now.
"Good-by, Mr, Seymour," cried Bentley, waving
his hand and setting his back against the rail nearest
to the Yarmouth, which had slowly swung parallel
to the Randolph and had been lashed there. The
old man was covered with blood from two or three
wounds, but still undaunted. Two or three men
made a rush at him ; but he held them at bay, no
man caring to come within sweep of that mighty arm
which had already done so much, when a bullet from
above struck him, and he fell over backward on the rail
Seymour raised his remaining pistol and fired it
at the second man, who had nearly reached the fore-
yard arm; less successful this time, he missed the
man, who threw his grenade down the hatchway.
Seymour fainted from loss of blood.
"Back, men! back to the ship, all you Yar-
mouths ! " cried Captain Vincent, as he saw the
lighted grenade, which exploded and ignited a little
THE LAST OF THE RANDOLPH
heap of cartridges left by a dead powder-boy before
the magazine. Alas! there was no one there to
check or stop the flames. The English sailors sprang
back and up the sides and through the ports of their
ship with frantic haste; the lashings were being
rapidly cut by them, and the braces handled.
" Come aboard, men, while you can," cried Captain
Vincent to the Americans. " Your ship 's afire ; you
can do no more ; you *11 blow up in a moment ! "
The little handful of Americans were left alone on
their ship. The only officer still standing lifted his
sword and shook it impotently at the Yarmouth in
reply ; the rest did not stin The smoke of battle had
now settled away, and the whole ghastly scene was
revealed. A woman's cry rang out fraught with
agony, ā " Seymour, Seymour ! " and again was her
cry unheeded ; her lover could not hear. She cried
again ; and then, with a frightful roar and crash, the
Randolph blew up.
For Love of Country
THE force of the explosion occurring so near to
the Hne-of-battle ship drove her over with irre-
sistible power upon her beam-ends until she buried
her port main-deck guns under water ; her time was
not yet come, however, for, after a trembling move-
ment of sickening uncertainty, she righted herself,
slowly at first, but finally with a mighty roll and rush
as if on a tidal wave. For a few seconds the air
was filled with pieces of wreck, arms, spars, bodies^
many of which fell on the Yarmouth, The horrified
spectators saw the two broken halves of the ill-fated
frigate gradually disappearing beneath the heaving
sea, sucking down in their inexorable vortex most of
the bodies of those, alive or dead, who floated nean
The fire had come in broad sheets through the port-
holes of the main-deck guns of the ship from the
explosion, driving the men from their stations, and,
by heating the iron masses or igniting the priming,
caused sudden and wild discharges to add their
quota of confusion to the awful scene. Pieces of
burning wreck had also fallen in the tops, or upon
the sails, or lodged in the standing rigging, full of tar
as usual, and dry and inflammable to the last degree.
The Yarmouth, therefore, was in serious danger, ā
more so than in any other period of the action, ā her
FOR LOVE OF COUNTRY
little antagonist having inflicted the most damaging
blow with the last gasp, as it were ; for little columns
of flame and smoke began to rise ominously in a
dozen places. Then was manifested the splendid
discipline for which British ships were famous the
world over. Rapidly and with unerring skill and
coolness the proper orders were given, and the tired
men were set to work desperately fighting once more
to check and put out the fire. Long and hard was
the struggle, the issue much in doubt ; but in the end
the efforts of her crew were crowned with merited
success, and their ship was eventually saved from the
dangerous conflagration which had menaced her with
ruin, not less complete and disastrous than had be-
fallen the frigate.
While all this was being done, a little scene took
place upon the quarter-deck which was worthy of
notice. Something heavy and solid, thrown upward
by the tremendous force of the discharge, struck the
rail with a mighty crash at the moment of the explo-
sion, just at the point where Katharine, wide-eyed,
petrified with horror, after that one vivid glance in
which she apparently saw her lover dead on his own
quarter-deck beneath her, stood clinging rigidly to
the bulwarks as if paralyzed. It was the body of a
man; instinctively she threw out her strong young
arm and saved it from falling again into the sea on
the return roll of the ship. One or two of the sea-
men standing by came to her assistance, and the
body was dragged on board and laid on the deck at
her feet. Something familiar in the figure moved
Katharine to a further examination. She knelt down
and wiped the blood and smoke and dust from the
FOR LOVE OF COUNTRY
face of the prostrate man, and recognized him at
once. It was old Bentley, desperately wounded, his
clothes soaked with blood from several severe wounds,
and apparently dying fast, but still breathing. A
small tightly rolled up ball of bunting was lying near
her on the deck; it was a flag from the Randolph,
which had been blown there by the force of the ex-
plosion. She quickly picked it up and pillowed the
head of the unconscious man upon it. Then she ran
below to her cabin, coming back in a moment with
water and a cordial, with which she bathed the head
and wiped the lips of the dying man. The fires were
all forward, and, the wind being aft, the danger was
in the fore part of the ship ; no one therefore paid the
least attention to her. There was, in fact, save the cap-
tain and one or two midshipmen, no one else on the
poop-deck except her father, who like herself had
been overwhelmed by the sudden and awful ending
of the battle. Being without anything to do, the
colonel, who had been watching the men fight with
the fire, happened to look aft for a moment and saw
his daughter by the side of the prostrate man. He
stepped over to her at once.
" Katharine, Katharine," he said to her in a tone of
stern reproof and surprise, not as he usually spoke to
her, " you here ! T is no place for women. When
did you come from below?"
"I've not been below at all, father," she replied,
looking up at him with a white, stricken face which
troubled his loving heart.
" Do you mean to tell me that you have been on
deck during the action? "
** Yes, father, right here. Do you not understand
FOR LOVE OF COUNTRY
that it was Mr. Seymour's ship ā I could not go
away ! "
"By heavens! Think of it! And I forgot you
completely ā The fault was mine, how could I have
allowed it? " he continued in great agitation.
" Never mind, father ; I could not have gone below
in any case. Do you think he ā Mr. Seymour ā
can be yet alive?" she asked, still cherishing a faint
The colonel shook his head gloomily, and then
stooping down and looking at the prostrate form of
the man on the deck, he asked, ā
" But who is this you have here? '*
The man opened his eyes at this moment and
looked up vacantly.
" William Bentley, sir," he said in a hoarse whis-
per, as if in answer to the question ; and then making
a vain effort to raise his hand to his head, he went
on half-mechanically, " bosun of the Randolph, sin
Come aboard ! '*
" Merciful Powers, it is old Pentley ! " cried the
colonel. "Can anything be done for you, my man?
How is it with you?"
Katharine poured a little more of the cordial down
his throat, which gave him a fictitious strength for a
moment, and he answered in a little stronger voice,
with a glance of recognition and wonder, ā
" The colonel and the young miss ! we thought
you dead in the wreck of the Radnor. He will be
glad ; " and then after a pause recollection came to
him. " Oh, God ! " he murmured, " Mr. Seymour ! '*
** What of him ? Speak ! " cried Katharine, in
FOR LOVE OF COUNTRY
ā¢ā¢ Gone with the rest/' he replied with an effort
" 'T was a good fight, though. The other ships, ā
where are they?"
" Escaped," answered the colonel; "we are too
much cut up to pursue."
" Why did you do it ? " moaned Katharine, think-
ing of Seymour's attack on the ship of the line.
The old man did not heed the question ; his eyes
closed. He was still a moment, and then he opened
his eyes again slowly. Straight above him waved
the standard of his enemy.
"I never thought ā to die ā under the English
flag," he said slowly and with great effort. Supply-
ing its place with her own young soft arm, Katharine
drew forth the little American ensign which had
served him for a pillow ā stained with his own blood
ā and held it up before him. A light came into his
dying eyes, ā a light of heaven, perhaps, no pain in
his heart now. One trembling hand would still do his
bidding; by a superhuman effort of his resolute will
he caught the bit of bunting and carried it to his lips
in a long kiss of farewell. His lips moved. He was
saying something. Katharine bent to listen. What
was it ? Ah ! she heard ; they were the words he said
on the deck of the transport when they saw the ship
wrecked in the pass in the beating seas, ā the words
he had repeated in the old farmhouse on that winter
night to the great general, when he told the story of
that cruise ; the words he had made to stand for the
great idea of his own life ; the words with which he
had cheered and soothed and sustained and encour-
aged many weaker men who had looked to his iron
soul for help and guidance. They were the words
FOR LOVE OF COUNTRY
to which many a patriot like him, now lying mute
and cold upon the hills about Boston, under the trees
at Long Island, by the flowing waters and frowning
cliffs of the Hudson, on the verdant glacis at Quebec,
'neath the smooth surface of Lake Champlain, in the
dim northern woods, on the historic field of Prince*
ton, or within the still depths of this mighty sea now
tossing them upon its bosom, had given most elo-
quent expression and final attestation. What were
" For ā for ā love ā of ā country." The once
mighty voice died away in a feeble whisper ; a child
might still the faintly beating heart The mighty
chest ā rose ā fell ; the old man lay still. Love of
country, ā that was his passion, you understand.
Love of country! That was the great refrain.
The wind roared the song through the pines, on the
snow-clad mountains in the far north, sobbed it softly
through the rustling palmetto branches in the south-
land, or breathed it in whispers over the leaves of the
oak and elm and laurel, between. The waves crashed
it in tremendous chorus on rock-bound shores, or
rolled it with tender caress over shining sands.
Under its inspiration, mighty men left all and
marched forth to battle ; wooed by its subtle music,
hero women bore the long hours of absence and sus-
pense ; and in its tender harmonies the little children
were ' rocked to sleep. Ay, love of country ! All
the voices of man and nature in a continent caught it
up and breathed it forth, hurled it in mighty diapason
far up into God's heaven. Love of country ! It was
indeed a mighty truth. They preached it, loved it,
lived for it, died for it, till at last it made them free i
Philip Disobeys Orders
ā¢'TTtTHO is this, pray?" said Captain Vincent, at
^^ this moment stepping back to the silent
"The boatswain of the Randolph," replied the
colonel. ** He has just died."
" Poor fellow ! but there are many other brave men
gone this day. What think you was the complement
of the frigate, colonel?"
"Over three hundred men certainly," replied tiie
colonel (the actual number was three hundred and
fifteen). " Most of them not already done for were
lost in the explosion, I presume?"
" Yes, assuredly ; and now I owe you an apology,
my dear sin I never saw a more gallant action in
my life. The man's gone, of course, but he shall
have full credit for it in my report ; 't was bravely
done, and successfully, too. We are frightfully cut
up, and in no condition to pursue. In fact, I will
not conceal from you that some of our spars are so
severely wounded, and the starboard rigging so dam-
aged and scorched and cut up, that I know not how
we could stand a heavy blow. Twenty-five are killed,
and upward of sixty wounded too, and about thirty
missing, killed, or wounded men of the boarding
PHILIP DISOBEYS ORDERS
party, who were undoubtedly blown up with the
frigate. Beauchamp is gone; and that little fellow
there," pointing to a couple of seamen bringing a
small limp body aft, "is Montagu. Poor little
youngster ! "
" This has indeed been a frightful action, captain,"
replied the colonel- " I knew young Seymour well.
He was a man of the most consummate gallantry.
This sacrifice is like him," he continued softly, look-
ing at Katharine and then turning away. Perhaps
the captain understood. At any rate he stepped to
her side and said gently, ā
" Mistress Katharine, this is no place for you ; you
must go below. Indeed, I must insist. I shall have
to order you. Come ā " and then laying his hand on
her arm, he started back in surprise. "Why, you
are wounded ! "
"Tis nothing, sir," said Katharine, faintly. "I
welcome it; 'twas an American bullet. Would it
had found my heart ! "
" Only a flesh-wound, colonel ; no cause for alarm,"
said the captain, looking at it with the eye of experi-
ence. " It will be all right in a day or two. But
now she must go below. I can't understand how you
were allowed to stay here, or be here. What were
they thinking of? But you saw one of the hottest
and most desperate battles ever fought between two
ships since you were here. They can fight; you
were right, colonel," he went on in ungrudging
"Here, Desborough,'* he added, addressing the
lieutenant, who just then put his foot on the deck,
**take Miss Wilton below, and ask the surgeon to
FOR LOVE OF COUNTRY
attend her at his convenience; she's gone and got
herself wounded by her friends."
Lieutenant Desborough, black and grimy, streaked
with smoke and powder, turned pale at the captain's
words, and sprang forward anxiously and led the
object of his love down the steps to her cabin.
*' Wounded ! " he murmured. " Oh, my love, why
did no one take you to a place of safety?"
' " 'T is nothing," she replied, going on as if in a
Desborough had his wish : his rival was gone ; he
had the field to himself; but he was too manly to feel
any exultation now that it was over, and too sorry
for the vacant despair he saw on her face. He ten-
derly whispered to her as he led her on, ā
" Believe me, dear Katharine, it is not thus I
would have triumphed over Mr. Seymour. He was
in truth a knightly gentleman."
Overwhelming pity for her filled his heart, and he
went on magnanimously, ā
" I am sorry ā "
She made no answer; she did not hear. In the
cabin the body of little Montagu was lying on a
table. He would never get his frigate now. How
small and frail and boyish looked the Honorable
Giles to-day ! Why did they send children like that
to war.? Had he no mother.? ā poor lad! Moved
by a sudden impulse, she stooped and kissed him,
as she had done an hour before. No throb of the
proud little heart answered responsive to her caress
now. Alas! she might kiss him when and as
she pleased; he would not feel it, and he would
not heed. Entering her own berth at last, the
PHILIP DISOBEYS ORDERS
tlosed the door and j^nk down upon her knees, -^
alone with God!
"A sail coming down fast, ā the little brig, sir,**
reported the officer of the deck to Captain Vincent
" Shall we come about and give him a broadside ? "
" No, no; we dare not handle the braces yet, ā not
until the gear and spars have been well overhauled "
" Shall we use the stem-chaser then, sir ? "
The Yarmouth had left the scene of the explo-
sion some distance away by this time, but she was
still within easy gun-shot. Captain Vincent earnestly
examined the brig; as he looked, she came up to
the wind, hove to, and dropped a boat in the water*
There was a bit of spar still floating there. The
captain saw that three or four men were clinging
" No ; she 's on an errand of mercy. There are
men in the water on that topmast there. Let her
go free," he said generously. " We 've done enough
to-day to satisfy any reasonable man. "
The colonel grasped his hand warmly and thanked
him. The little brig picked up her boat, swung
her mainyard, and filled away again on the port tack,
in the wake of the rest of the little squadron now
far ahead; then, understanding the forbearance of
the big ship, she fired a gun to leeward and dipped
her ensign in salute.
The force of the explosion had thrown Seymour,
from his advantageous position aft, far out into the
water and away from the sinking ship. The con*
tact with cold water recalled him to his senses at
once; and with the natural instinct of man for life^
FOR LOVE OF COUNTRY
he struck out as well as he might, considering his
broken leg and wounded arm and weakened state.
There was a piece of a mast with the top still on it
floating near by. He struggled gallantly to make it,
ā *t was no use, he could do no more ; closing his
eyes, he sank down in the dark water. But help was
near : a hand grasped him by his long hair and drew
him up; one of his men, unwounded fortunately,
had saved him. The two men presently reached the
bit of wreck ; the sailor scrambled up on it, and by a
great effort drew his captain by his side ; two more
men swam over desperately, and finally joined the
little group. They clung there helpless, hopeless,
despairing, fascinated, watching the remains of the
Randolph disappear, marking a few feeble swim-
mers here and there struggling, till all was still.
Then they turned their eyes upon their late antago-
nist, running away before the wind in flames; they
saw her fighit them down successfully; appalled,
none spoke. Presently one of the seamen glanced
the other way, and saw the little brig swiftly bearing
down upon them.
" God be praised ! Here 's the brig, the Fair
American, '* he cried. " We shall be saved ā saved ! **
The brig was handled smartly; she came to the
wind, backed the maintopsail, and lay gently toss-
ing to and fro on the long swells. The young cap-
tain stood on the rail, clinging to the back-stays,
anxiously watching. The boat was dropped into the
water, and with long strokes shot over to them. The
men sprang aboard ; rude hands gently and tenderly
lifted the wounded captain in. They pulled rapidly
back to the brig; the falls were manned, and the
PHILIP DISOBEYS ORDERS
boat was run up, the yard swung, and she filled
away. Seymour was lifted down; Philip received
him in his arms.
" I ought to arrest you for disobedience of orders,"
said the captain, sternly. "Why did you pay no
attention to my signals.? You have jeoparded the
brig. Yon ship can blow you out of the water; you
are quite within range. "
But they soon saw that no motion was made by
the ship; and in accordance with Seymour's orders
the gun was fired and the colors dipped, ā a salute
which the ship promptly returned.
"I ought to put you under arrest, Philip," again
said Seymour, faintly, while he was lying in the
tiny cabin, having his wounds dressed ; " but I will
not. 'Twas gallantly done; but obey orders first
hereafter, ā 't is the first principle of action on the
sea. " That was rather cool comfort for the young
officer, considering that his somewhat reckless action
had just saved Se)rmour's life. He made brief re-
ply, however, and then resumed his station on the
deck of his little vessel, which was rapidly overhaul-
ing the rest of the fleet. As soon as the night fell,
the wind permitting, they were by Seymour's direc-
tion headed for the harbor of Charleston once more.
Now that his mind was free again, Seymour's
thoughts turned to that woman's form of which he
had one brief glimpse ere the line-of -battle ship dis-
appeared in the smoke. Could it indeed have been
Katharine Wilton.? Could fate play him such a
trick as to awaken once more his sleeping hope?
Through the long night he tossed in fevered unrest
in his narrow berth. Again he went over the awful
FOR LOVE OF COUNTRY
scenes of that one hour of horror. The roar of the
guns, the crash of splintered timbers, the groans of
the wounded men, rang in his fretted ear. They
seemed to rise before him, those gallant officers and
men, the hardy, bold sailors, veterans of the sea,
audacious youngsters with life long before them,
Bentley, his old, his faithful friend, ā lost ā all lost.
Was there reproach in their gaze? Was it worth
while, after all ? Ay, but duty ; he had always done
his duty ā duty always ā duty ā Ah, they faded
away, and Katharine looked down upon ā it was she
ā love ā duty ā love ā duty! Was that the roar
of battle again, or only his beating heart .^ They
found him in the morning, delirious, shouting orders,
murmuring words of love, calling Kate, ā babbling
like a child.
Three Pictures of the Sea
A SHORT time before sunset that same evening
the Yarmouth was hove to, and the hoarse
cry of the boatswain and his mates was once more
heard through the ship, calling, ā
** All hands ! Bury the dead."
Skilled hands had been working earnestly all the
afternoon to repair the damage to the vessel ; much
had been accomplished, but much more still re-
mained to be done. However, night was drawing on,
and it was advisable to dispose of the dead bodies of
those who had been killed in the action, or who had
died since of their wounds, without further delay.
Some of the sailmaker's mates had been busy during
the afternoon, sewing up the dead in new, clean ham-
mocks, and weighting each one with heavy shot at
the feet to draw it down. The bodies were laid in
orderly rows amidships, forward of the mainmast,
and all was ready when the word was passed. The
crew assembled in the gangways facing aft, the boat-
swain, gunner, carpenter, sailmaker, and other warrant
officers at their head. The captain, attended by
Colonel Wilton and the first lieutenant in full uni-
form, and surrounded by the officers down to the
imallest midshipman, stood facing the crew on the
FOR LOVE OF COUNTRY
quarter-deck ; back of the officers, on the opposite
side of the deck, the marine guard was drawn up.
At the break of the poop stood the slender, graceful
figure of a woman, alone, clearly outlined against the
low light of the setting sun, looking mournfully down
upon the picture, her heart, though filled with sadness
and sorrow particularly her own, still great enough to
feel sympathy for others.
The chaplain, clothed in the white vestments of his
sacred office, presently came from out the cabin be-
neath the poop-deck, and stopped opposite the gang-
way between the line of men and officers. Two of
the boatswain's mates, at a signal from the first
lieutenant, stepped to the row of bodies and carefully
lifted up the first one and laid it on a grating, cov-
ering it at the same time with a flag. They next