TWO AGAINST A FLEET.

Early in September, 1814, a British fleet sailed up the Penobscot River from Belfast to Bangor, robbing and destroying the farms and villages as they went along, and after they had caused great damage in Bangor, they turned about and sailed back again to the sea. Only once in this long and, from a British point of view, successful raid, did the Yankees get the better of their enemies, and this single instance was due to the bravery of one old man and his courageous wife.

The fleet was guided up the stream by a Tory pilot, and encountered no resistance until it reached the highlands of Cape Jellison, when a volley of musketry was discharged by a little band of Maine patriots, killing a number of sailors and soldiers who had been occupying conspicuous positions on the decks. The British replied with broadsides of grape-shot, riddling every house within striking distance, and silencing the flint-locks. But the incident had maddened the commander of the English squadron, and he gave orders to his gunners to take a shot at everything on shore as they proceeded. As a result many houses were struck and one cow was killed; the inhabitants, warned of the approaching fleet, having retired inland out of range.

Thus the Britishers had it all their own way until they came to a point called the Narrows, about a mile below Bucksport. Tall bluffs rise on both sides of the river here, and on the crest of one old David Grant lived in his little house with his wife. Grant was too old to go to the war, but he was not too old to resist the invaders. As soon as he saw the masts of the hostile ships coming around the bend, he got out his muskets and took up a good position in front of his house with a firm rest to aim on. From his point of vantage he could command the decks of the ships as they passed, and as soon as they came within gunshot he began to blaze away with his old shooting-irons, aiming at the officers who were gathered on the sterns of their vessels.

His wife stood by his side and loaded the guns as fast as she could. At the third shot fired by the old man, the defenders of the hill-top saw the man at the wheel of the foremost vessel throw up his hands and fall backward. Immediately the war-ship swung its nose around to the tide, and would have run ashore if the order had not been given to drop anchor. Grant had badly wounded the Tory, and the second vessel in the line had to take the lead of the fleet with a resident of the locality who sympathized with the British for pilot. During all this manœuvring, old David Grant was pouring buck-shot and bullets upon the ships, and both he and his wife shook their fists in defiance at the surprised Englishmen.

Presently a gun loaded with grape was run out on the deck of the flag-ship and fired at the house on the bluff, but the angle was too steep, and the charge lodged in the bank below. The British then began to clear away a boat, and a squad of marines gathered at the gangway to embark. Something went wrong with the davits, however, for the tackles did not seem to work easily, and Grant and his wife could see the officers storming about the deck, while the boat hung several feet above the river. When the old couple saw that they were about to be attacked in earnest they withdrew into their little house and closed the door. The house was built on the further side of a little field that sloped down to the edge of the bluff, and at the rear of the building and on both sides were thick clumps of trees. Shortly after Grant and his wife had retired from view, the British saw a man carrying a gun over his shoulder step out of the thicket on the north side and walk into the house through the front door. He had hardly gotten in when two more men fully armed stepped out of the trees from the other side and went into the house. After this, at intervals of a minute or less, one or two men came from the trees and went to Grant's assistance. All carried guns over their shoulders. The British officers from the ship watched the men as they came, and had counted fully fifty by the time the boat was ready to clear away. This caused them to hesitate about making an attack, for they realized that from the strong position on the bluff fifty armed patriots could hold a whole ship's crew at bay, and kill them off one by one as they struggled up the hill. The Commander, therefore, thought better of this plan, and ordered the marines aboard again, and, hoisting anchor, sailed off after the rest of the fleet up the river toward Bangor.

As the ship passed through the Narrows old David Grant and his brave wife ran along the bluff for almost a mile, shooting as fast as they could, and when they had no more gunpowder left, they shook their fists again at the invaders, and turned back toward their little home.

When the farmers gathered from all around to hear about the old couple's battle with the British, Grant told them how he went out of the house by the back door and skirted the clump of trees, and came out in front in sight of the enemy, and walked in at the front door. His wife dressed herself in some of her husband's clothes, and, taking a gun, performed the same trick, and sometimes they came separately, and sometimes they walked together; and sometimes they came from the north side, and sometimes they walked out from the trees on the south. It was this simple bit of strategy that saved the old couple and their home from the destructive attack of the British.