Adventure, June 1911 — page 141: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Looking for Trouble mander (now Rear Admiral, retired) W. H. Brownson, to escort the merchantmen up to the docks. At the same time he warned Da Gama not to carry out his threat to fire on them when they crossed his line. With his ship cleared for action, Brownson stood in alongside one of the merchantmen. He steamed over close to the 7rajano, on which Da Gama’s flag was flying and which, with the Guanabara, was guarding the shore. “YT will recognize no accidental shots,”’ shouted Brownson to the rebel Admiral, “‘so don’t fire any! If you open fireI will respond, and if you reply to that I will sink you!” As the merchant ship came in line the Trajano fired a shot across her bow. Brown- son replied instantly with a six-pound shell which exploded so close to the Trajano that it threw the water on her forward deck. A musket-shot was fired from the Guana- bara and it was answered and silenced with a bullet from the Detroit. After seeing his charge safely tied up to dock, Brownson circled contemptuously around the Tvajano and ordered a marine to send a rifle-shot into her sternpost, as an evidence of his esteem for her commander. The discomfited Da Gama, who was looking for some excuse to end his hopeless revolt, fell over himself getting into his launch, raced over to the Deirozt and tendered his sword to Brownson. The American told him he had not demanded his surrender, as he seemed to think, and could not accept it, but that he maust keep his hands off American shipping if he wished to continue his mortal existence. The “revolution” ended right there, but unfortunately I was not present to witness its collapse. The august naval authorities were scandalized when this display of good sense was reported to them and they care- fully prepared a message of censure to Ben- ham for permitting such conduct, but before it was despatched the New York morning newspapers reached Washington, and after a perusal of their enthusiastic editorials on the subject, a message of commendation was sent to him instead. i@ Charleston I was occasionally allowed on deck for exercise, but I had no other diversion than to watch the intermit- tent bombardment of the city and the regu- larly scheduled exchange of shots between the rebel fleet and the forts. In hope of meeting with greater success, Mello would DURING my confinement on the 327 sometimes engage the forts with several of his ships, and as time wore on there was some improvement in the marksmanship on both sides, though nothing like reasonable accuracy was ever attained. The only in- cident which was at all exciting was the sinking of the Javary, one of Mello’s moni- tors. A shell from Fort Sao Joao dropped between her turrets and, as she heeled over from the explosion, an accidental shot from Fort Santa Cruz struck her below the water- line. She went down by the stern with a rush. The guns in her forward turret were pointed toward the town and they were fired, in a spirit of sheer bravado, just as she disappeared. Mello threw a few shells into the city every day, as evidence that he was still in rebellion, but I was told that less than half a dozen of them did any damage and they certainly produced little excitement. Soldanha da Gama came out in the open and joined forces with Mello while I was on the Charleston. : ; I was not allowed to communicate with any one on shore, and, except from hearsay, Floriano had no means of knowing whether I was alive or dead. Captain Picking claimed to have been told by a church digni- tary, who of course was a friend of Mello, that it would be unsafe to set me ashore, as I was certain to be assassinated by Mello sym- pathizers, but that doubtless wasa subterfuge by which he sought to justify his position. After I had been subjected to this out- rageous treatment for two months, I was suddenly transferred to the Detroit, which immediately put to sea. Off Cape Frio we met another Sirius, a Lamport & Holt liner bound for New York, and, in charge of Ensign James F. Carter, I was transferred to her. We reached New York December 1g, 1893, and I was taken to the Brooklyn Navy Yard. An hour after my arrival a message was received from Washington ordering my release. The Navy Department, in line with the vacillating policy then in vogue, took that method of getting me away from the danger-zone. VENEZUELA - THE ORINOCO COMPANY T WAS in vexed Venezuela that I was: destined to end my days of deviltry, but not until after a protracted warfare, none the less bitter because it was conducted at Go DOOKS ANUC (C@