Chapter Fourteen.
In command of Dolphin.—Sent to warn ships.—Chased.—Captured by Chermente.—Carried to Saint Domingo.—Find old friends in misfortune.—On our parole.—Tom remains with me.
Pretty well worn out with fatigue, which the duties of the ship entailed, as soon as we had made all snug I turned into my berth, hoping to get some sleep. Scarcely, however, had I closed my eyes and forgotten for the moment all sublunary matters, than I felt some one tugging at my shoulder, and on looking up I saw a midshipman standing at my bedside.
“Sir,” said he, “the admiral wishes to see you up at the Penn immediately.”
“I wish he didn’t, though,” I thought to myself. “Couldn’t he let a poor careworn wretch have a few hours’ quiet sleep after knocking about for so many weeks at sea, and having been in the clutches of Yellow Jack?” I didn’t say this, though.
“Very well,” I answered, jumping up and putting on my coat with a yawn which nearly gave me the lock-jaw. “I’ll be up there forthwith.”
The Penn, it must be understood, is the name given to the residence usually occupied by the head commander-in-chief on the station. It is beautifully situated on an elevated spot above the city of Kingston, overlooking the noble harbour of Port Royal.
Ordering a boat to be manned, I pulled on shore, and climbed up to the Penn.
“I’m glad to see you back, Hurry,” said Sir Peter kindly. “I know your zeal for the service, and I have more work for you. You know of the war with France. I must send you off at once to sea in quest of the cruising ships to give them notice of the event, and to direct them forthwith to return into port. In the first place you will look out for the ‘Druid’ at the east end of the island, and give her notice of the war, and then you will proceed to the Saint Domingo coast, where you will find, probably, the greater number of merchantmen. How soon can you be ready?”
Of course I replied, “At once,” wondering what craft I was to go in.
“Very well,” said Sir Peter; “I expected as much of you. You will take command of the ‘Dolphin’ schooner. She is now in the harbour. I am not quite certain in what condition you will find her. However, there is no other disposable craft. Fit her for sea as fast as possible. Take three or four hands with you; I cannot spare you more. Let your two followers you spoke to me about, be of the number. Here is an order by which you can obtain all the aid you require from the dockyard people and others. Good-bye; I hope to see you back shortly.”
With these words I parted from the admiral. It was now three o’clock in the morning. Hurrying on board the flag-ship, I got hold of Grampus and Rockets with their bags, and accompanied by them and a couple of more hands and a boy, I called for my own traps and bedding on board the Camel, and then went alongside the Dolphin tender. She looked certainly in a very hopeless condition. She had her lower-masts standing, but was entirely unrigged, without stores or sails, or even ballast on board, while her bottom was covered with grass a foot at least in length. Still I knew that not a moment was to be lost; the service I was required to perform was of the greatest importance, and I was not to be deterred by difficulties. I unmoored her immediately, got her alongside the dockyard wharf, and began taking some ballast which I found there on board before anyone was up. Then I sent Grampus to rouse up the authorities, whose aid I required. Fortunately the sudden outbreak of war kept people on the alert, so that I had less difficulty in getting assistance than would have otherwise been the case.
Soon after daybreak the deck of the Dolphin presented a scene of ant-like industry. Gangs of negroes were hurrying backwards and forwards with coils of rope and spars and sails; others were rolling down kegs of water, and others casks of beef and pork and biscuit, and packages of other comestibles, while the riggers were at work getting the rigging over the mast-heads, setting it up, bending on sails, and my own people were below, stowing away the various articles as they came on board. I made a list of essentials, and took good care to see that they came on board and were stowed where they were to be found, or very likely I should have gone to sea without them. I saw to everything myself, or sent Grampus to ascertain that people were losing no time in executing my orders. I left nothing to chance. I met with no little grumbling from some of the slow-going officials.
“What a hurry you are in, sir!” said one or two of them, who dared not, however, openly disobey my authority.
“Yes, my friend,” I answered, laughing, “that’s natural to me; and just now I am in as great a hurry as I ever was in my life; so be smart, if you please, and keep your people moving.”
That is the way I managed. I did not swear or abuse them, but if I found anyone slow I pulled out the admiral’s order and said that the work must be done faster.
“Impossible, sir!” answered another official to one of my demands; “it cannot be done. In two or three days we may get the matter settled for you.”
“Impossible! In two or three days do you say?” I exclaimed, looking fixedly at him. “In two or three hours you mean. Impossible,—I don’t understand that word, nor does Sir Peter, depend on that. If the things are not on board in three hours I shall report you. I don’t want to be severe, my friend, but I am in earnest.”
The gentleman understood me, and within the time specified the stores were on board.
In spite of all I could do, however, I could only get a mainsail, foresail, fore-staysail, and jib. I had no topsails and no square sail. Thus, should I be chased by an enemy, I should be, I felt, like a bird with clipped wings, I should have very little chance of escaping. I got some of the weeds scraped off the vessel’s bottom, but still there were more than enough remaining. Such good speed did I make, that before three o’clock in the afternoon of that very day I was ready for sea, or, rather, I was in such a condition that I could put to sea, though the urgent necessity of the case alone warranted me in so doing.
“Well, sir,” observed Grampus, with the familiarity of an old shipmate, “if we comes to meet with Harry Cane in our cruise, it’s like enough that we shall be nowhere.”
Just before we got under weigh, Captain Lambert, of his Majesty’s ship Niger, came on board. He shrugged his shoulders when he saw the condition I was in.
“The admiral ordered me to get to sea as fast as I could,” I remarked; “I’m doing my best to obey him.”
“That you are, Mr Hurry,” he answered. “You’ve done very well—very well indeed, I say. I wish you to keep a look-out for me off Saint Domingo, and bring me any information you may have picked up. I am under orders to sail to-morrow morning to cruise off that island with my own ship, and with the ‘Bristol’ and ‘Lowestoffe,’ and I shall have my tender with me. You will know the squadron by one of the three ships having a poop, and from our being accompanied by a schooner. Now good luck to you. I will not detain you.”
“Thank you, sir,” said I; “depend on it I will not disappoint you.”
With a light breeze we stood out of the magnificent harbour of Port Royal, leaving a fleet of merchantmen, which the news of the war with France prevented from putting to sea. I certainly was not given to be much influenced by outward circumstances, but I did not feel at all in my usual spirits, and could not help fancying that some calamity was going to occur to me. These sensations and ideas probably arose both from my being overworked and from the unsatisfactory way in which my vessel was fitted out; added to this, I knew that the seas would be swarming with the enemy’s privateers, both Americans and French, and that I could neither fight nor run away. I considered over the latter circumstance, and bethought me that, if I fell in with any enemy, I would, at all events, endeavour to escape by stratagem. My men would, I knew, support me. Nol Grampus and Rockets I was sure I could trust, and the others I had chosen because they were sharp clever fellows, and up to anything.
It was not till the 3rd of September that I weathered the east end of the island of Jamaica. I cruised off Morant Point for some time, keeping a very bright look-out for the Druid. She was nowhere to be seen. Sir Peter had directed me not to lose much time in looking for her. She might have chased an enemy for leagues away and not be back to her cruising ground for days. Perhaps she might have taken some prizes and returned to Port Royal. As I began to lose all hope of seeing her before nightfall, the wind came fair for me to proceed through the windward passage. I accordingly put up my helm, made all the sail I could, and stood for the island of Heneago.
On the evening of the 6th I made Cape Tiberoon, on the west end of the island of Saint Domingo, without having fallen in with any vessels, and about eight o’clock the same evening I passed the Navasa, and carried a fine breeze till the following morning, when I brought Donna Maria to bear east at the distance of two or three leagues. I had not liked the look of the weather for some hours.
“What do you think of it?” said I to Grampus, as I saw the clouds gathering thickly around us from all directions, while the sea assumed a peculiarly dark, leaden, ominous colour.
“Why, sir, Mr Hurry, do you see, to my mind, the wider berth we give the land the better,” he replied, giving his usual hitch to his trowsers. “There’s what they calls in these parts a whirlwind or old Harry Cane coming on, or my name is not Nol Grampus.”
I was too much afraid that Nol was right, and accordingly stood off the land under all sail, keeping a look-out, however, on the signs of the weather, so as to take in our canvas in time before the gale came on. I had not, notwithstanding this, made good much more than a league when it fell a dead calm. The sails flapped idly against the masts, and the little vessel rolled from side to side, moved by the long, slow, heaving undulations which rolled in from the offing.
“I’m not quite certain that you are right, Grampus, as to the coming whirlwind, but we will shorten sail, at all events,” I observed.
“Beg pardon, Mr Hurry, sir; but just do you follow an old seaman’s advice, and take all the canvas off her,” he answered with earnestness. “It’s doing her no good just now, and we haven’t another suit of sails if we lose them. When the wind does come, it is on one before a man has time to turn round and save the teeth being whisked out of his mouth. Come, my lads, be smart, and hand the canvas,” he added, calling to Rockets and the other men.
I was soon very glad that I was not above taking an old seaman’s advice. Scarcely ten minutes had passed, during which time the calm had been more profound than ever, when, as suddenly as Grampus had foretold, the whole ocean around us seemed covered with a sheet of seething foam, and the whirlwind, in all the majesty of its strength, struck the vessel, pressing her down till her bulwarks touched the water, and I thought she would have gone over altogether. I sprang to the helm and put it up, while Grampus hoisted the fore-staysail just a foot or so above the deck. Even then the canvas was nearly blown out of the bolt-ropes; so far she felt its power, however, and, her head spinning round as if she had been a straw, away we drove before the hurricane. Where were we driving to was the question. I anxiously consulted the chart. We were in that deep bay in the island of Saint Domingo, with Cape Donna Maria to the southward, and Cape Saint Nicholas to the north, and I saw that a slight variation in the course of the gale might hurl us on the coast, where the chance of our escaping with our lives would be small indeed. Happily the wind at present came out of the bay, or I believe my ill-found little schooner would have gone to the bottom, as did many a noble ship about that time. The sea, even as it was, soon became lashed into furious billows, which broke around us in masses of foam, which went flying away over the troubled surface of the ocean, covering us as would a heavy fall of snow. Grampus and I stood at the helm, keeping the little vessel as well as we could directly before the gale, but we tumbled about terrifically, and more than once I caught him casting anxious glances over his shoulder astern, as if he expected some of the seas, which came roaring up after us, to break over our decks.
“What do you think of it, Grampus?” said I.
“Why, Mr Hurry, sir, I don’t like the look of things,” he answered. “If one of them seas was to fall aboard of us, it would wash every soul of us off the deck, and maybe send the craft in a moment to the bottom. Still, I don’t see as how there is anything we can do more than we are doing. If the schooner was to spring a leak just now, and that’s not unlikely, we should be still worse off, so we may be content with things as they are.”
I admired Nol’s philosophy, though I kept an anxious look-out on the larboard bow, dreading every instant to catch a sight of the shore, past which I knew we should have a narrow shave, even should we be fortunate enough to escape being driven against it. The coolest man on board was Tom Rockets. He kept walking the deck with his hands in his pockets, ready enough, I saw, for action, but certainly not as if a fierce hurricane was raging around him. Now and then he had to pull out his hands to lay hold of the bulwarks as the craft gave a lively roll, or plunged down into the trough of a sea; but as soon as she grew comparatively steady, he began walking away as before.
On we drove. The dreaded coast did not appear. Still I could scarcely hope that we had passed it. The wind began to shift about at last. Grampus said that it was the termination of the hurricane. Still it might play us a scurvy trick before it was over, and drive us on some inhospitable shore. I began now to look for further signs of the ending of the storm. It got round to the northward, and on we drove till we caught sight of the coast. It was a most unwelcome sight, though, for should the little craft once get within the power of the breakers, which were dashing furiously against it, I could not hope that a single man on board would escape with his life. Even Tom Rockets began to think that the state of things was not so pleasant as it might be. I saw that he had taken his hands out of his pockets, and was holding on with the rest of the people. Away we drove—the threatening shore every minute growing more and more distinct.
“What prospect is there, think you, Grampus, of the hurricane coming to an end?” said I. For from want of anything else to be done I was obliged to keep my tongue going.
“I thought as how it was going to break but just now, Mr Hurry,” he answered, casting his eye all round the horizon. “It seems, howsomedever, to have breezed up again, and if it don’t shift before long, there’s little chance of the schooner’s living, or any of us either for that matter, many hours more.”
“We must meet our fate, then, like men, and Christians too, I hope,” I answered, looking at him. “We have done all that men can do, I believe.”
“Yes, sir, that we have,” he replied. “We can do no more, and it isn’t the first time Nol Grampus has had to look Death in the face, so I hopes that I shall not shrink from him. Come he will, I know, some day, sooner or later; and it matters little, as far as I can see, if he comes to-day or to-morrow.”
“Not if we put our trust in One who is able and willing to save our souls alive,” I observed. “That makes all the difference whether death should be feared or welcomed. It is not what we suffer in this world that we should dread, but what we may deserve to suffer in the next; in the same way it is not what we enjoy here, but what we may be able to enjoy through all eternity, that we should long for.”
“Very true, sir—very true, Mr Hurry,” replied Grampus; “but the worst is, that we don’t think of these things till just at such moments as the present, when the flood has done, and the tide of life is fast ebbing away.”
Thus we talked on for some time. I felt really with my old friend Nol, that though there we all stood in health and strength, we might soon be removed to behold the glories of the eternal world.
Suddenly Nol looked up. Holding his hand to the wind, and casting his eye on the compass—
“I thought so, sir,” he exclaimed. “There’s a shift of wind. It has backed round again into the eastward.”
Such was providentially the case. I took the bearings of the land. We might now hope to drive on clear of it. The sea was, however, getting higher and higher, but the Dolphin proved to be as tight as a cork and as buoyant, and I began to get rid of all my dread of her foundering, provided her masts and rigging did not give way.
Considering the manner in which she was fitted out, however, I did not feel quite easy on that score. Still nothing more could be done, so we had, as best we could, to wait events. At length there was a lull. I expected that it would breeze up again.
“The gale has worn itself out, to my mind, Mr Hurry,” observed Grampus, after a careful survey of the sky and sea.
“I am sure I hope so,” I answered; “I was getting somewhat tired of it, and so I suspect was the schooner. Sound the well, and see what water she has made.”
He sounded the well, and reported three feet.
“I thought so. Rig the pumps, and let us try and get her clear while we can.”
All hands pumped away with a will, and soon got her free of water, when the sea went, as it soon did, gradually down. It showed me that the leak had been caused by the way the little vessel had strained herself, and that probably, had she been exposed much longer to the fury of the hurricane, she would have foundered. By night the gale had sufficiently abated to enable me to set a reefed foresail, and once more to haul up on my course. I made but little progress during the night and following day. I was standing along the coast, towards the evening of the next day, with the wind from the northward, when I discovered in-shore of me what I took to be the masts of a vessel just appearing out of the water. I conjectured that she had been sunk in the hurricane of the previous day, and on the possibility that some of the crew might still be clinging to her rigging, although I was on a lee-shore, I resolved to bear down on her. I pointed her out to Grampus, and asked his opinion.
“No doubt about it, sir,” he answered. “There may be some danger to us, I’ll allow, especially if it was to breeze up again, but where’s the man worthy of the name who refuses to run some danger for the sake of helping his fellow-men in distress? To my mind, sir, let us do what’s right, and never mind the consequences.”
I’ve often since thought of the excellence of some of old Grampus’ remarks.
“Up with the helm, then! Ease away the main and head sheets!” I sang out. “We’ll run down and have a look at the wreck.”
I kept my glass anxiously turned towards the object I had discovered, in the hopes of seeing some people clinging on to the rigging. As we drew near, I found that only a single mast appeared above water, as well as her bowsprit, and that she had all her canvas set. Not a human being could be seen in any part of the rigging. I got close up to her. She was a sloop of about seventy tons. She had evidently been caught totally unprepared by the hurricane, and every soul on board had been hurried into eternity. Finding that there would be no use in waiting longer near the spot, for there was not the slightest probability that anyone was floating on any part of the wreck in the neighbourhood, I again hauled my wind, and stood to the northward. At ten o’clock at night a fresh gale sprang up, which compelled me once more to bring-to under a reefed foresail. I am thus particular in narrating details of events which led to a most disastrous result. Truly we cannot tell what a day may bring forth. I had fallen in with no merchantmen, which would have been a most suspicious circumstance, had I not supposed that they might have been lost in the hurricane, or run into port for shelter, otherwise I should have supposed that they had fallen into the power of the cruisers of the enemy. On the 8th I passed Cape Nichola Mole, and on the 9th made the island of Heneago, bearing nor’-nor’-east, four leagues. At eight o’clock in the evening I tacked, and stood off-shore, with a fine breeze, with the intention of passing in the morning between Heneago and the little Corcases, for the purpose of speaking his Majesty’s frigate Aeolus, stationed in that passage, and bearing her the information that the war had broken out. At five o’clock of the morning of the 10th, the wind shifting round to the eastward, I tacked, and stood to the northward, through the Corcases. At daybreak Tom Rockets was sent aloft to keep a look-out for any sail which might be in sight. Soon afterwards he hailed the deck to say that he made out two sail on the lee bow, just appearing above the horizon. I went aloft with my glass and soon discovered four altogether, one much smaller than the others. She was a schooner, the other three were ships. I had little doubt that it was a squadron, composed of the Bristol, Lowestoffe, and Niger, with her tender, which were to sail the day after me, and which I expected to fall in with in this neighbourhood. They were still too far-off to make out exactly what they were. I came down, however, with my mind perfectly at ease, and went to breakfast. Grampus, who had charge of the deck while I was below, watched them narrowly, and did not differ with me as to their character. I therefore stood towards them, as I was anxious to communicate with them without delay. My orders directed me to speak all cruisers, and besides, as it may be supposed, I was eager to get the duty I had been sent on accomplished, and to return again to Port Royal.
When I came on deck again, I found that we had drawn considerably nearer the strangers. I scrutinised them again and again. One of them had a high poop, and I remembered Captain Lambert’s remark to me the day I sailed, that this was one of the marks by which I should know his squadron. I thus stood on boldly towards them. As we drew nearer, I saw Grampus eyeing them narrowly. The expression of his countenance showed me that he had considerable doubt on his mind as to their true character. We had now got within three miles of them.
“What do you think of them, Grampus?” said I, as I took the glass which I had just before handed to him.
“I don’t like their looks, sir,” he answered. “That headmost frigate is English—so I take it from the look of her hull and the cut of her canvas—but the others I can’t make out by no manner of means. I don’t think the ‘Bristol’ or the ‘Lowestoffe’ are among them.”
I had come to the same conclusion that Grampus had; but I wished to confirm my own opinion by his. We stood on for five minutes longer. My suspicions of the character of the strangers increased.
“We are running into the lion’s jaws, I suspect!” I exclaimed; whereat Grampus and Rockets opened their eyes to know what I meant. “Hoist our colours, and let us learn what they are without further delay.”
Scarcely had we run our ensign up to the peak than up went the French flag at that of the headmost frigate which at the same time fired a warning gun at us.
“Up with the helm! Ease off the main-sheets! Keep her away!” I exclaimed.
The orders were quickly obeyed, and away we flew with a strong breeze directly before the wind. I had two very good reasons for endeavouring to escape by keeping before the wind. In the first place, a fore-and-aft vessel has generally a great advantage over a square-rigged ship on that point of sailing, and I might otherwise have drawn the enemy’s squadron towards the station of the Aeolus. As she was so much inferior in strength to it, she would easily have fallen into their power, especially as, not being aware that war had broken out, she would have been taken by surprise.
As soon as I put up my helm and kept away, the headmost of the strangers crowded all sail in chase, making signals to the rest of the squadron to follow her—undoubtedly not to allow me any prospect of escaping. She fired two or three shot, but she was still too far-off to hit me. All the other vessels hoisted French colours, and any lingering hope I might have retained, that after all I might have been mistaken, and that the strangers were English, now vanished. Still my principle has always been never to give in while life remains, and so I resolved to hold on till I got completely under the enemy’s guns, and then, when I found that there was a strong probability of my being sunk, to haul down my colours, but not till then. I had heard of a small vessel escaping even from under the very guns of a big enemy, and I intended not to throw such a chance away. I called my crew aft.
“My men,” said I, “I won’t ask you to stick to me to the last, because I know you will. Those ships astern are enemies: we’ll do our best to escape from them, and if we are taken and the chance is given us, we’ll endeavour to heave our captors into the water, and to re-take the schooner, won’t we?”
“Yes, sir, that we will,” answered Grampus. “I speak for the rest, because I know their minds, and you are just the man to do the thing if it is to be done.”
I told the people that I was gratified at the good opinion they had formed of me, and sent them back to their stations. I did not like the look of things. The chances of escaping were very small, and the prospects of a French prison in the climate of the West Indies was anything but pleasant.
The breeze freshened, and we went tearing away through the smooth blue sea, sending up the white sparkling foam on either side of our bows, and leaving a long line of white astern; but I now sadly felt the want of a square-sail and topsails. Had I possessed them to set, I fancied that I could easily have kept ahead of my pursuers. My glass was seldom off them, while I also kept it sweeping round ahead in the hopes, though they were not very sanguine, of discovering the British squadron, for which I had at first mistaken the enemy. On we flew, but the sharp line of the horizon on every side was unbroken by the slightest dot or line which might indicate an approaching sail. I watched the enemy. It was soon too evident that they were coming up with us at a speed which sadly lessened our prospects of escape. Still we kept beyond the range of their guns. Unless, however, fortune changed in our favour, this could not long be the case. Gradually I saw the chance of getting away diminishing, and the conviction forced itself on me that we should all be soon prisoners of war. I called Grampus to me; he was of the same opinion.
“Well, then,” said I with a sigh, “our first duty is to destroy all the letters and despatches with which I have been entrusted. Bring them up at once.”
Grampus dived below, and returned with the despatches delivered to me by Sir Peter Parker, as well as with some thirty or forty letters from the merchants of Jamaica, addressed to the masters of their privateers cruising off the island, with none of which I had hitherto fallen in. I tied the whole of the documents up in a piece of canvas, with a shot in it ready to heave overboard when the last ray of hope had disappeared. I stamped with rage as I saw my enemies overtaking me; I could not help it. My men, too, eyed them as if they felt that if they had been on board a ship in any way able to cope with such opponents, they would speedily have given a good account of them. I scarcely knew what to wish for. A tornado was the only thing just then likely to serve me. It might have sent the schooner to the bottom, but if she weathered it, I hoped that I had a chance of escaping from the big ships, which were very likely to be widely scattered before it.
The sky, however, gave no indication of any change of the sort. Grampus and Tom I saw pulling very long faces at each other, as much as to say, “It’s all up with us.” They were too right. On came the headmost ship with the Dolphin hand over hand, the flag of France flaunting proudly at her peak. A shot from one of her bow guns was a significant notice to me to heave-to. I did so with a very bad grace, and as I put down my helm, I could not help wishing that France and all Frenchmen were swept away into the ocean.
“They always have been, and always will be, an unmitigated nuisance to old England!” I exclaimed, as I took a turn on the deck, while my little craft lay bobbing away slowly at our big opponent, which, having also hove-to, was lowering a boat to board us. Then I took up the bundle of letters and hove them overboard, when down they sank, probably to find a tomb in the stomach of some hungry shark.
“At all events, Messieurs Crapauds, you will not be much the wiser for what is in them,” I exclaimed with a feeling of no little bitterness.
If I did not feel inclined exactly to cut my own throat, I certainly had a very strong wish to knock the fellows on the head whom I saw pulling towards me. It did not take me many minutes to pack up my own wardrobe. My people, as is usual, put on all the clothes they possessed, one over the other, and then we all stood ready to receive our most unwelcome visitors.
Their boat was soon alongside, and a well-dressed, gentlemanly-looking officer jumped on board, and announced to me in English that I was a prize to the French frigate Chermente of thirty-two guns, Captain McNamara, an Irishman in the French service.
“It is the fortune of war,” he observed. “You did your best to escape us when you found out that we were not your friends. You and your people will come on board my ship; the schooner may be useful to us.”
I could only bow to this polite speech, and say that I was ready to attend him on board his ship. The French seamen, however, did not seem inclined to treat us with much ceremony, and several who came on board rummaged about in every direction to pick up whatever they could find.
With a heavy heart I left the Dolphin, and was soon transferred to the deck of the French frigate. The squadron to which I had become a prize consisted of the Dédaigneuse and Chermente, both of thirty-two guns, the Active of twenty-eight, and the Providence privateer, which with the Active they had taken the day before. I cannot say much for the discipline of the French frigate; for it appeared to me that the crew were very much inclined to be insubordinate, in consequence of which the officers had to exercise a considerable amount of severity in keeping them under necessary discipline.
It was a bitter pill I was compelled to swallow. For ten long years I had been serving my country incessantly as midshipman and master’s mate, and now at the very moment when I felt sure that I was about to emerge from the subordinate rank of a petty officer, and to obtain my commission as a lieutenant, no longer to be subject to the midnight calls of quartermasters and the unnumbered snubs which patient midshipmen from their superiors take, I found all my hopes of my promotion dashed to the ground, and myself an unhappy prisoner of war.
I had, however, plenty of companions to share my misfortune; on board the two French frigates were most of the officers and crew of the Active, as well as of the privateer. Scarcely had I stepped on board than who should I see walking the deck in melancholy mood but my old friend and messmate Delisle, and by his side was Paddy O’Driscoll. How changed had soon become the light-hearted, jovial midshipman! The feeling of captivity was weighing heavily on his spirits. Indeed, what is there more galling to an officer than to see the ship to which he lately belonged in the hands of his enemies, and himself compelled to submit to any commands they may choose to issue? They both, as they turned in their walk, started at seeing me; for of course they did not know that I was on board the vessel just captured. They came forward and shook hands warmly.
“I cannot welcome you on board this craft, my dear Hurry,” said Delisle, “though under other circumstances I should have been truly glad to fall in with you.”
“Bad luck to the day when we fell into the power of the Frenchmen!” exclaimed O’Driscoll. “And to think that an Irishman, or the son of an Irishman maybe, should be their captain makes matters worse. I’m ashamed of my countryman, that I am, except that to be sure he has behaved like a gentleman to us since we came on board, and so have all his officers.”
“What more could we expect?” said I. “He did but his duty in capturing us: perhaps before long the tables may be turned, you know. There’s a larger squadron of our ships not far-off, and I don’t give up all hopes that these ships may fall in with them.”
My two friends pricked up their ears at what I told them, though I myself was very far from sanguine about the two squadrons meeting. Should they meet I had no doubt which would prove victorious. We of course did not express our hopes to our captors, but we kept a constant look-out for the British squadron. Not a sail, however, appeared, our hopes of obtaining our freedom grew less and less, and on the 11th of the month sunk to zero when we entered the harbour of Cape François. We found there the French frigate Concorde and the late British frigate Minerva which she had captured. There were also several sail of French Saint Domingo ships. In my hurry and annoyance on quitting the Dolphin I discovered that I had left behind me my chest of clothes. They were not of any great value, though, as I much wanted them, they were so to me. I therefore requested Captain McNamara to send for them. He at once politely complied with my wish, but the midshipman he sent soon returned with the unpleasant information that the chest was in the cabin, but was empty. It appeared that after the Chermente’s boat had left the Dolphin, the people of the Dédaigneuse had boarded her, and plundered her of everything of value. When Captain McNamara heard of this, he instantly sent on board that ship, and endeavoured to recover my property; but all his trouble was in vain. The French seamen were far too knowing to give up anything they had once got possession of, and after a good deal of trouble I was finally compelled to be content with my loss, as I saw that there was no probability of recovering my property.
On the 14th my brother-officers lately belonging to the Active and I were politely informed that we were to be conducted on shore to give our parole that we would not attempt to make our escape. After a short consultation, we all agreed that, although to get away from the lion’s jaws into which we had fallen was not altogether impossible, it was very unlikely that we should succeed, and that by not giving our parole we should be subject to a vast deal of annoyance, it was wiser at once to give it, and to wait patiently till we were exchanged. Constant confinement in a prison in the West Indies, or on board a guard-ship in harbour, it was suggested was very likely to release us; but it would be into another world, to which we had just then no inclination to go if we could help it. We were received on shore by a guard of ill-favoured blacks—“regular blackguards,” as O’Driscoll observed—between whom we were conducted to the residence of his Excellency Governor D’Argu. We were kept waiting for some time in a balcony which ran round the house, subject to the inspection and remarks of a number of black and brown urchins, who made us feel some of the bitters of captivity by jeering and pointing at us, while we had not even the power to drive them away. At length an officer came into the balcony and asked us into a large room, furnished only with mats, a few chairs, and some marble tables, on which stood some red earthenware jars, full of water, and some decanters of claret, looking very cool and pleasant. The great man was seated at a table at one end of the room. He received us, I thought, at first very grumpily. He did not understand English, but I recognised the polite officer who had boarded the Dolphin when I was captured, and who appeared to be there in the capacity of an interpreter. The governor enquired our respective ranks. I fully expected to be classed among the midshipmen, and to receive my pay and treatment accordingly; but I fortunately had in my pocket the appointment given me by Sir Peter Parker as acting-lieutenant of the Camel. I bethought me of exhibiting it, and, much to my satisfaction, it was acknowledged, and I was told that I should be treated in all respects as a lieutenant, especially as I had been in command of a vessel when captured. I was surprised indeed to find a considerable sense of justice in all the proceedings of our captors at this time. Perhaps the bitter feeling they afterwards entertained for the English, when they had sustained numberless defeats, had not then sprung up. My friend, the second captain of the Chermente, having explained to us the alternative to which we should be subject if we refused to pledge our words of honour, told us that we should be at liberty to go on shore whenever we liked, and to walk about within a distance of a mile from the shore. Some of us complained of the narrowness of the circle to which we were confined. The governor looked quietly up, and remarked that we might consider ourselves fortunate that it was no narrower. The observation was interpreted for our benefit, and no further remark was made on the subject. We all went through the ceremony required of us, and then, without loss of time, were once more marched down to the boats and conveyed on board the Chermente, where all the rest of the prisoners were collected. Most of the men were sent away in a cartel. Nol Grampus parted from me with great reluctance, but when Tom Rockets was told he must go, he turned round towards me and exclaimed—
“Mr Hurry, sir, do you want to part with me? I’ve sailed with you since I was a boy, and, come foul weather or fair, if I have my will I’ll follow you still. Just tell these mounseers that you want a servant to tend on you, and that you can’t do without me, and then maybe they’ll let me stay.”
I tried to persuade Tom that it would be better for him to go away, but all I could say would not turn him from his purpose, and so I made his wishes known to the governor. To my surprise, he was allowed to remain in the capacity of my servant, on my pledging my word that he would not attempt to escape. I afterwards found that a considerable number of seamen were detained by the French, to be exchanged afterwards when more Frenchmen were taken prisoners. On the outbreak of the war on this station, at all events, the French had, I believe, the advantage in that respect. Afterwards, however, it was all the other way, and we English had more prisoners than we could well look after.
We spent a week on board the Chermente while, I suppose, our captors were considering what was to be done with us. Now I must say that, though I have no love for the French, or French manners or customs or ideas, still I should be very ungrateful if I did not acknowledge the kindness and attention we all received from Captain McNamara and his officers. O’Driscoll said it all arose from his father being an Irishman. However, as his officers were not Irishmen, I am inclined to believe that a portion of the nation are capable of great courtesy and kindness, and I am not at all disposed to utter a sweeping condemnation against them, like an old master in the service whom I once knew. My worthy messmate was taken prisoner and kept in France some eight or ten years or more. When at last he was released, and an officer was wanted for some special purpose who spoke French well, he was applied to, it being supposed that by that time he would have acquired a perfect knowledge of the language. “What!” he exclaimed, with an indignant expression, “do you suppose that I would so far forget what was due to my nation and my profession as to go and learn the humbugging ugly language of the enemies of my country? No, indeed, I did my best not to learn a word, and I am proud to say that I know as little of French now as when I was first taken prisoner.” Though I may have laughed at my worthy friend’s want of worldly wisdom, I could never help admiring his sturdy, uncompromising patriotism.
Chapter Fifteen.
Ordered to proceed to Ou Trou.—Escape from our black guards.—Kind reception at a country-house.—Our guards re-appear. Meet Delisle.—Again well entertained by a planter.—Adventures on the road.—Reach Ou Trou.—Put up in a stable.—Bad treatment of prisoners of war.
Hitherto we had been treated with kindness and attention by the officers of the French frigate, but a change in our lot was about to occur. On the 20th September we were suddenly ordered to go on shore, and when there we found that we were to prepare for an immediate start to a place called Ou Trou, thirty miles away in the interior. Having been marched up to the governor’s house, we were told to be ready to commence our journey by three o’clock, and were then allowed to go about our business. We accordingly, feeling the necessity of fortifying the inner man, went to the first inn of which the place could boast, called the Dutch Hotel, and ordered the best dinner it could turn out. “Plenty of wine!” was the general cry, at which Mynheer von Tromp grinned furiously. We were just the customers he liked, and promised to fulfil our wishes to the utmost of his power. In the meantime we strolled about the town. There was very little to attract us in it, and our footsteps took us involuntarily to a spot whence we could obtain a good view of the ocean, which we feared that we were destined for so long a time not again to see. Alas! how many of us were destined never again to behold that ocean we loved so well! As Delisle and I sat together and looked out on the bright blue expanse spread before us, and dotted here and there with white sails glancing in the sunbeams, and observed the unfrequented shore and the fishermen’s boats drawn up on the beach, we agreed how easy it would have been, had we not given our parole, to have made our escape, and as to danger, we settled that we would have run it willingly for the sake of escaping from our confinement. We would have put off in one of the canoes and pulled away right out to sea till we were picked up by an English cruiser or merchantman. While we were sitting admiring the scene several negroes passed us, great, big, burly fellows, laughing and singing at the top of their voices. Each couple of them carried a burden resting on two poles. We soon suspected their errand. On reaching the beach, close to the water, they threw down their burdens and began digging away with short spades they carried at their waists. They did not cease laughing and shouting, and had soon dug a shallow hole big enough to contain a dozen people. The burdens which they had borne to the spot were quickly tumbled in. Before the operations were concluded other big, half-naked negroes arrived with more corpses, which were treated in the same unceremonious manner, and then all were speedily covered up, and the black monsters went stamping and dancing, singing all the while, carelessly over the huge grave.
“Who can they be?” I asked of Delisle; “I mean the poor fellows who lie buried down there at our feet.”
My messmate spoke French, so he called one of the negroes as they passed and made the inquiry of him. The black fellow grinned horribly.
“English seamen. Taken prisoners lately. They have the fever among them. Yellow Jack. They are dying like rotten sheep. No matter. They are all heretics, so we bury them here. They are not fit for consecrated ground. Bah!” was the answer, delivered with a broad grin, as if the speaker had uttered a good joke.
Delisle turned away and came back to me.
“Let us return to the inn,” said I. “It must be dinner-time; I cannot enjoy this spot any longer.”
All our party quickly assembled at the hotel, and we soon forgot the unpleasant scene we had witnessed. Mynheer had not forgotten our order to have an abundance of liquor ready, though I cannot say much for the delicacy of the viands he placed before us. I know that the bottles circulated round the table very rapidly, and that the wine was pronounced very good. It possessed, I remember, the quality of being very strong, so that we soon forgot, thanks to its fumes, all the misfortunes which had been oppressing our spirits, and soon hilarity and fun reigned among us. While we held up our sparkling glasses, and the joke and laugh went round, no one would have supposed that we were a party of forlorn prisoners about to be marched off to a solitary abode in the midst of a half-barbarous island. Toasts and sentiments were uttered, and even songs were sung, and, for my own part, I know that I entirely forgot where I was or what I was about to do. While our revels were at their height a black officer made his appearance at the door.
“Messieurs, it is time to begin your journey. Your mules are at the door. You must mount at once and proceed.”
The order was more easily given than obeyed. With regard to the matter of mounting and sticking on, that, in whatever condition a seaman is, he can generally accomplish; but the guiding a horse, mule, or donkey is a very different affair, and beyond often the power of a sober sailor, much more of a drunken one.
“Oh, bad luck to the blackguards! we are not going to have our conviviality cut short by them or any like them!” exclaimed O’Driscoll, filling up his glass with Burgundy as some of the party were about to rise from their chairs.
“Let’s sit down and be merry yet awhile longer—we shall not get such liquor as this at the town where we are to take up our abode.” He little knew what a true word he was speaking when he said that. His example was infectious, and, captain and all, we sat down and filled up our glasses. A toast was proposed, succeeded by a tremendous rapping on the table. Before it had ceased the door was swung open and a nigger officer marched into the room in a furious rage.
“For what you disobey orders?” he exclaimed, in very tolerable nigger-English; “you come out at once and mount, or I get the whip in among you and make you fly!”
“Ho, ho, Quasho, you’ve got an English tongue in your head! where did you pick that up, you rascal—you run-away slave from Jamacy, I guess—eh, eh?” cried O’Driscoll, turning round and looking at the fellow with an expression of supreme contempt.
I fully expected to see the anger of the negro become ungovernable; instead of that, however, he prepared to back out of the room, and as far as a negro can turn pale, he did so, and seemed at once to lose all power of speech.
“You’ve hit the right nail on the head, O’Driscoll,” observed Delisle; “however, there is no use in exciting the anger of the people, we may suffer for it in the end.”
Others were of the latter opinion; and at last we all rose, and paying the landlord’s somewhat extortionate demand with the best grace we could, considering the hole it made in our pocket, went out to inspect our beasts. They were tolerably strong animals, and two or three looked as if they had some go in them, at all events.
“I say, Hurry, just keep an eye on those two beasts,” said O’Driscoll, pointing at two of the best mules. “No one else seems to know one brute from another.”
Such was the case, for all hands, except Delisle, were more than three sheets in the wind. Poor Robson, one of the lieutenants, was one of the worst. Two negroes mounted on mules appeared to serve as our escort or guard. They were armed with long, formidable-looking pistols stuck in their belts, with hangers by their sides. Had we wished to get away, or had we known of any place to which we could fly, we should have used wondrous little ceremony in disposing of them.
“Mount, gen’men, mount!” exclaimed the black officer.
“More easily said than done, old codger,” hiccoughed Robson, essaying to get across the back of a restive mule. “I should like to see your nigger grand excellency with three bottles of Burgundy under your belt attempting to do that same. However, to men of courage nothing is impossible—so here goes. Heave ahead, my hearties!” Making a spring, he threw himself on to the top of the saddle, but with an impetus so great that he toppled over completely and came down on his nose on the opposite side.
One of our black escort, seeing the catastrophe, hurried up to help the fallen officer. Robson seeing him coming, and not comprehending his intentions, tackled him at once as if he had been an enemy, and the moment he came within reach began pommelling him away most vehemently. This naturally excited Sambo’s anger, and forgetting his habitual dread of white men, he paid him back much in the same coin. The spectators meantime shouted with laughter, urging on the combatants. Drunk as he was, Robson soon, I saw, got much the best of it, and was punishing the nigger most severely. The latter did not like this treatment, and was, I suspected, growing vicious. Now one rolled in the dust, now the other, but Sambo was generally the sufferer. Fearing that he might make use of a long knife I saw stuck in his belt, I made signs to Tom Rockets, who not having had the means of procuring Burgundy, was happily sober, to go in and put an end to the combat.
Poor Tom had better not have interfered, for Sambo, mistaking him for his first antagonist, began pommelling away most furiously at his head, while Robson, not comprehending the cause of his interference, attacked him on the other side.
“Who are you, you son of a sea-cook, who ventures to interfere in the quarrels of two gentlemen, I should like to know?” he hiccoughed out; “let me tell you, I don’t allow such proceedings!”
“My eyes, two gentlemen!” exclaimed Tom, fairly nonplussed; “you is an officer, sir, but a rum sort of gentleman is t’other, I should think.”
Tom bore his hammering for some time, when, getting a fair lick at Sambo, he sent him spinning away ten yards off with a blow of his ox-like fist. Sambo looked very much astonished, scarcely comprehending at first whence the blow had come, but it had the effect of teaching him, I suspect, for the future, to respect the arm of a British tar, and of putting an end to the combat, which, I fain must own, did not redound much to the credit of my brother-officer.
“Come, sir,” quoth honest Tom, seizing him by the leg, “just let me hoist you aboard this here animal, you’ll be more comfortable-like than kicking away here on the ground.”
Robson made no objection, but looked up with a smiling aspect in Tom’s face.
“Yeo-ho! heave-ho!” sang out my follower, and the lieutenant was quickly seated on the back of the quadruped, though, I suspect, he sat there with no great amount of comfort, for he held on tightly by the pommel with both hands, as if he expected soon to be tossed off again. Perhaps he had in his recollection the occurrence of some such accident in former times.
After this there was a general cry of “Heave ahead, my hearties, heave ahead!” And we all mounted as best we could. Our two black guards got on their steeds in no very good-humour with affairs in general, and us in particular, though their mules were the greatest sufferers.
How the authorities could suppose that two niggers, albeit armed with the longest hangers, and the biggest pistols ever used, could keep in order a party of half-drunken British officers rendered reckless by vexation, I do not know. It made us fancy that they had very few men to spare for any service but that of actual warfare.
They had our word that we would not run away, but certainly we had given no pledges that we would not indulge ourselves in any frolic which might be suggested to our fertile imaginations.
The word at last was given, and off set our cavalcade from the town of Cape François, the negroes shouting and the mules kicking and snorting and making all sorts of wonderful noises. We did not leave the place with any especial regret, but we should have done so had we known where we were going. Robson, whose head was pretty strong, soon recovered his equilibrium, and he, Delisle, O’Driscoll, and I rode together. I am no great hand at describing scenery. I remember it was wild in the extreme—blue ranges of hills and deep valleys, and plains partly cultivated, but mostly left in a state of nature overgrown with giant ceybas, between which were seen in rich profusion every species of parasitical plant twining and twisting and hanging in drooping wreaths, which monkeys converted into swings, while humming-birds at the pendant ends built their tiny nests. Then there were mango thickets, which as we journeyed among them, with their dense foliage, shut out the view on every side, and tall palm-trees towering up proudly here and there in the plain. There were rice and sugar plantations also, and their houses of one storey and red-tiled roofs and broad verandahs, and gangs of negroes as they trudged, laughing and shouting, to their work at the baking-house or mills for crushing the canes, and in the wide savannahs there were cattle grazing and herds of long-eared, fine mules, which put our sorry steeds to shame.
“I say, this is terribly slow work,” quoth O’Driscoll, ranging up alongside me; “what do you say to giving our nigger friends the go-by? We can’t come to much harm. We’ve got the bearings of Ou Trou, I fancy—indeed, I don’t think that there is any other town in that direction. At all events, we may meet with some adventure, and it will be pleasanter than jogging along at this rate.”
The proposal was one which jumped amazingly with the fancy of all the party. We had not long to wait before we had an opportunity of putting our scheme into execution. We four were ahead of the rest of the party. Suddenly we came upon a spot where four roads branched off in different directions.
“Away we go, my boys,” shouted O’Driscoll, and to the astonishment of our guard we struck our spurs into the sides of our mules, and off we galloped, each by a separate road, or rather track, for road, properly so-called, there was none. We had agreed to reunite after riding on for twenty minutes or so, but we forgot that such a determination might not be so easily accomplished as designed. Our black guard pulled up, shouting lustily, and tugging at and scratching his woolly locks, uncertain in which direction to pursue us. In vain he shouted, and shrieked, and swore. The extraordinary mixture of nigger and French oaths in which he gave vent to his fury had no effect on us. He might as well have tried to stop a fly-away eagle with them. We turned round and shook our hands and laughed at him. After going on for a little time I discovered that he did not pursue me, so when my mule began to show signs of fatigue I pulled up and rode on leisurely. Not long after. I heard a tramping behind me, and expected to find that it was the negro, but on looking back I made out O’Driscoll in chase of me. I having accordingly hove-to, he came up to me, laughing heartily.
“Well, faith, we have clean done the niggers!” he exclaimed. “We may now ride on leisurely and see what fortune has in store for us. I intend to throw care to the dogs and to forget that I am a prisoner of war. What’s the use of moaning and groaning, and sighing and dying? But oh, Molly Malone! Molly Malone, what will ye do when ye hear that your own faithful Patrick may chance to be kept so many long years away from you? Ay, there’s the rub, Hurry. Now you, you happy fellow, don’t care for anybody. It’s all the same to you where you may be, but should Molly, now, think I was never coming back and go and marry some one else, it would be a bitter pill to swallow.”
Paddy went on conjuring up all sorts of melancholy pictures in which Miss Molly Malone played a conspicuous part, till his feelings fairly got the better of him and he began to blubber outright. This was too much. I doubt not the Burgundy helped the tears to flow. My own feelings and thoughts I kept to myself and did my best to comfort him, and in another three minutes he was roaring at the top of his voice with laughter.
“Hillo, what’s that ahead? A stately mansion, as I am a gentleman!” he exclaimed, as a red-tiled building of a single storey appeared before us. “We’ll go and request the hospitality of the noble owner. I have no doubt that he will be enchanted to afford it when he discovers that we are officers and gentlemen.”
We turned aside through a gateway which led to the mansion. It was a large, low edifice surrounded by a broad verandah, a flight of stone steps leading to the principal entrance. As we rode up a thin old gentleman, with a powdered wig, long-tailed coat, silk breeches and diamond buckles, appeared at the top of the steps and summoned a troop of negroes, who rushed forward to assist us to dismount and to hold our mules.
“This is treating us with proper respect,” observed O’Driscoll, assuming an air of as much dignity as he could command, and, mounting the steps, he commenced an address, which the old gentleman, in spite of his politeness, showed that he could not possibly comprehend. I could command a few sentences in French by this time, so I tried to explain that we were travelling towards Ou Trou, and that we were uncertain of our way. He said something about commissionaires. I suspect he took us for Americans. However, he politely invited us into a large airy room covered with mats, and made us sit down on a cool cane-bottomed sofa and had sweetmeats and cakes and delicious cool wine and water brought in, and then he produced a bundle of unexceptionable cigars, and we were speedily made very happy and comfortable. We smoked and laughed and talked away, but I doubt that our host understood anything we said. This was all very pleasant, and we enjoyed it amazingly. At length the ladies of our host’s family arrived. They had been driving round the estate—it was a large sugar one—in a volante, jogging and jolting, I doubt not, for the roads, if so they might be called, were execrable—a fine thing for the bile, as O’Driscoll observed.
The ladies looked as if their drive had agreed with them, for they were full of life and animation and courtesy and kindness. A French creole is really a very handsome creature—I mean those of the softer sex. The men are generally dried-parchment, shrivelled-up-looking little monstrosities. I cannot account for the difference. We made out that there was madame la mère and three daughters, and a brace of cousins. They must have had a couple of volantes or more, for the mother would have amply filled the half of one at least, and two of the daughters would have required a capacious vehicle to convey them, independent of hoops, with which they had not encumbered themselves.
They speedily threw themselves into chairs and sofas, and coffee was brought to them, and then cigars, which they lighted, without ceremony, from small lumps of hot charcoal handed to them by a little black slave-girl.
In a short time some young men came in. They appeared to be brothers and cousins of the young ladies, or perhaps there was a lover or so among them. One went to a spinet which stood at the end of the room, and another brought in a violin and began to strike up a dancing air. Then, to show that we were civilised beings, O’Driscoll and I rose to our feet, and each offering a hand to a young lady, we commenced a minuet to the air which was being played. We flattered ourselves that we performed our parts to admiration, though our knowledge had been picked up during a few evenings spent on shore at New York during our last stay there. To the minuet succeeded a regular country-dance. Here O’Driscoll felt that he could show off in right good style, and accordingly frisked and frolicked and jumped about in the most vehement way imaginable. He soon danced himself into the good graces of all the lady part of the community, who seemed to admire his red hair and ruddy cheeks, which formed so great a contrast to their own complexions. I heard them remarking that he was a joli garçon and a bon garçon, and the more impudent he looked, and the more he frolicked, the more they admired him. I came in for some share of their commendations, I flatter myself, though not perhaps to so large a one as he did, but whether or not from the same cause I will not pretend to say. Evening was drawing on and our contentment and hilarity were at their height—as to being prisoners, we forgot all about that—when who should pop his head in at the door but the ugly black rascal who had acted as our guard, the fellow with the long pistols and hanger. We endeavoured to ignore his acquaintance and laughed heartily in his face, when he said that he had come to carry us off.
“Pooh, pooh!” exclaimed O’Driscoll, going up to him, and, shaking him by the shoulders, turned him about to shove him out of the room; but an harangue he uttered appeared to have a considerable effect on our host. What he said I do not know. Our host’s manner at once changed towards us.
“It appears, gentlemen,” said he, coming up to us, “that you are setting at defiance the authorities of the island. I cannot sanction such a proceeding. I took you for very different people to what I now find that you are. I regret it, but I must give you back into custody.”
Such was the import of the old gentleman’s address as far as we could comprehend it. It made us look very blue and feel very foolish. The worst of it was, that even our fair friends began to turn up their noses at us. Suddenly O’Driscoll slapped his leg with vehemence.
“I’ll bet a thousand dollars that black scoundrel has been telling a parcel of lies about us, which has so suddenly made our friend, Monsieur Shagreen here, so suddenly change his opinion of us. I’ll ask him, and assure him that the blackamoor is not to be trusted.”
On this O’Driscoll held forth to the old gentleman, who, however, as he could not make head nor tail of what was said to him, was not much edified. Had we been able indeed to speak French fluently, I have no doubt that we should have got the better of the nigger. As it was he got the better of us, and finally got us again under his guardianship. The only consolation was that we obtained the sympathy of the ladies, who, when they really understood our painful position, at once exhibited a delicacy and kindness which we had not expected when we were first introduced to them. They quickly disappeared, and came back with a variety of articles which they thought might conduce to our comfort. Blessings on the sex, whether black, brown or white, wherever they are found! The negro fumed and foamed and talked very big, I doubt not, though what he said we could not clearly comprehend. He seemed also disposed to prevent us from receiving the gifts which the ladies offered. This made them, we saw, very indignant; but they quickly managed to get round him, and, either by threats or bribes, induced him to promise that he would treat us with kindness. They stowed all their gifts, which consisted chiefly of eatables, into some grass bags, which were slung across our mules’ backs in front of us. The negro showed by his impatient gestures that he wanted to be off, so, bidding our kind hostesses farewell and expressing our gratitude as best we could, we descended the steps to mount our beasts. Our host’s leave-taking was far more formal than his reception of us. He was evidently a kind-hearted, generous man, but could not shut out of his sight certain visions of offended dignitaries angry at the entertainment he had afforded to the enemies of La Belle France.
We were sorry that we could not more clearly explain to him our sense of his hospitality. He waved his hand as we mounted, but declined to take ours, and showed to the bystanders by every means in his power that he was heartily glad to be rid of us.
“Never mind, we’ll not be offended,” said O’Driscoll, as we rode on. “He is a fine old gentleman, and I dare say, if it were not for his fear of the powers that be, he would have been as polite as ever to us.”
We had gone on some miles when the clattering of an animal’s hoofs attracted our attention, and to our satisfaction we saw Delisle coming along a track to our right. He had lost his way and met with all sorts of adventures; but, as he spoke French well, he easily got out of them. He also had been entertained very kindly by a creole family, who took him for a French officer, but threatened if any heretical Englishman came into their power they would do for him. At that time the Roman Catholic inhabitants of the French colonies were bigoted in the extreme—though surpassed probably by the Spaniards and Portuguese, who even then would have thought they were doing God service to burn a heretic.
It was now growing dark, or rather the sun was on the verge of the horizon, and we knew that in another ten minutes day would have changed into night, so rapid is the transition in those latitudes from light to darkness. We began to wonder what had become of Robson. Half-seas-over as he had been, as we grew more sober and capable of reflection we began to fear that he had met with some accident. Still, as we should not find him by stopping still, and our guard would not let us go out of our road again—at least, the instant we gave signs of such an intention he began tapping away at his hanger or presenting one of his long pistols as a signal to us to keep in our straight course—on we jogged, therefore, as fast as our mules could trot, for we had yet a long distance to accomplish before we could reach Ou Trou, and were anxious to be there. Fortunately, before long the moon rose. Oh! what a magnificent pure orb she looked floating in the clear ether—a pure, chaste globe, one could see its roundness—not like the patch of red putty she generally seems in northern climes stuck on to a black board. The dark outlines of the hills and tall trees stood clearly defined against the bright sky, and in the damper and more sheltered spots fire-flies were darting about and filling the air with their brilliant flashes, while the shrill cries of frogs and night-birds and whirr of beetles resounded on every side. We were riding on, listening to these varied sounds of animated nature, when we saw some dark objects, which appeared like human beings, lying on the grass by the road-side.
“What can they be?” exclaimed Delisle. “Dead men, I fear.”
We rode on—O’Driscoll was ahead. He dismounted.
“Very noisy dead men, for they snore most confoundedly loud,” he cried out. “As I am a gentleman, here’s Robson, and he has chosen the fat stomach of a greasy nigger for his pillow! I hope he enjoys the odoriferous, sudoriferous resting-place. His dreams must be curious, one would think. What is to be done with him, I wonder?”
By this time we had all assembled round our fallen shipmate. We in vain tried to rouse him. A few inarticulate grunts were the only answers he could give to our often-repeated remonstrances. The negro was much in the same condition; but it was evident that he had had sense enough before falling into repose to allow the ruling passion to have sway, and he had contrived to pick our friend’s pocket of his purse and watch, which he held firmly in his grasp. The negro guard, when he came up, wanted to prevent our recovering Robson’s property, and pretended that it belonged to his compatriot and that we had no right to it.
We guessed, as was the case, that Robson had been hospitably entertained at some farm, when, having taken on board a further supply of liquor, he had been completely overcome, and that the negro had been sent to guide him on his way. Probably our shipmate had been treating him in return, and, when pulling out his purse to pay the reckoning, had excited his cupidity. Happily for Robson his guide was too far gone by this time to run off with his booty, and so both had come to the ground together, the robber and the robbed levelled by that arch destroyer of the human intellect—strong drink. Oh, when I now come to think of it, how disgusting was the scene!—though I did not trouble my head much about the matter myself in those days. Robson was a gentleman, and had refined ideas and pleasant, agreeable manners, and yet, when once wine thus got the better of him, he would thus sadly demean himself. After some pulling and hauling we got him up, and having caught his mule, which was quietly grazing near, wiser than his rider, we put the biped on his back. Delisle went ahead and O’Driscoll and I propped him up on either side—the negro we hauled up on a hank and left to recover and make the best of his way home. We had difficult work to keep Robson steady, for the bumping of the mule brought him sufficiently round to make him fancy that he could take care of himself, and he every now and then made an attempt to do something which he was utterly unable to accomplish. Certainly one of the most trying things to the patience is to conduct a drunken man along a straight road. Our guard also was continually urging us to go faster, which we were utterly unable to do. Fortunately, before long we came in sight of a house belonging apparently to a large coffee estate, and standing near the road. Bright lights were gleaming from within, and the sounds of music and revelry came forth through the open windows. It was a sight tempting indeed to poor forlorn creatures like ourselves, who had little chance of seeing such again for many a long day.
“What say you?” cried O’Driscoll. “Perhaps we may kill two birds with one stone. We may get these merry people to take care of Robson and at the same time to entertain us, if Sambo there don’t interfere. We’ll try at all events. Delisle, my boy, come along and interpret for us, will you?”
Delisle, who on most occasions was one of the most quiet and best behaved men in existence, albeit a perfect fire-eater on occasion, entered at once into the fun of the thing and followed his countryman under the balcony, when the latter began to cry out—
“Oh messieurs! oh mesdames! ici, ici! un pauvre garçon se va mourire!”
Several ladies came into the balcony and looked over, curious to ascertain what was the matter. When they saw us bearing Robson in our arms, some of them cried out that a stranger had come with a dead man. Others said that he was only sick; and then some gentlemen came and looked out, all dressed in knee-breeches, long silk waistcoats and coats, and with swords by their sides—a very respectable-looking assemblage. They all talked away and consulted for some time, and the upshot of the matter was that several of them came down, and calling us round to the front door, assisted us to carry Robson up the steps and into a quiet room, away from the scene of revelry. There we put him to bed, one of the gentlemen recommending a tumbler of eau-sucré as the best medicine we could give him. He took a huge draught of it.
“Superb nectar! finest grog I’ve tasted for a long time?” he exclaimed. “Give me more of it.”
We gave him another huge jorum. He sucked it down with great satisfaction, and it undoubtedly cooled the fever which was raging in his inside. Our French friends, we flattered ourselves, did not find out his real condition; and when we had made him comfortable they invited us all to the room in which they were holding their revels. Sambo, our guard, for some reasons best known to himself, made no objections to the proceeding. Perhaps he judged that it was the best way of disposing of us. Perhaps he had some acquaintance—I won’t say of the fair sex—among the sable inmates of the mansion, with whom he had no objection to pass a short time while we were amusing ourselves in the society of the masters and mistresses.
We danced, and ate sweetmeats, and drank coffee and claret-and-water and smoked cigars and cigarettes to our hearts’ content, and laughed and talked to the nut-brown maids who composed the female portion of the party, for there was not a white face among them. We were quite disappointed when our black guard put his head into the room and sang out—
“Allons, messieurs, allons?”
“I should like to allons you and your ugly mug?” exclaimed O’Driscoll, eyeing the negro with no friendly look. But there was no help for it. The black fellow was our master; we had passed our word of honour not to attempt to escape, and to behave ourselves orderly, and we felt that we had already verged on the bounds of propriety in what we had done. Our polite hosts promised to take very good care of Robson and to forward him on with an escort the next day, should he have recovered his strength.
Once more, therefore, we were in the saddle and proceeded through forests and among mountains and by plantations, guided by the light of the moon, till, very sore and very tired, we arrived, past midnight, at a place which our guard informed us was Ou Trou. We said that we wished to lodge at the best inn, on which he chuckled audibly, and told us that we had better take up our abode for the night in a shed hard by among some piles of Indian-corn straw. We agreed that we had often been compelled to sleep on far more uncomfortable couches, and that the next morning we would set out to explore the town and choose lodgings. With this comfortable reflection, after our guard had disappeared into a neighbouring shed with our weary beasts, we, not less weary, I suspect, fell asleep.
We were awakened at an early hour the next morning by the sound of English voices, and, getting up from our straw couches, we found several of the officers lately belonging to the Minerva, who also had been sent to this place, and, hearing of our arrival, had come to look for us. They gave us an account of the way in which their ship had been taken. We were not aware that they had been captured, and together we bemoaned our hard fate in thus being made prisoners at the commencement of a war which probably would be a long one. Having stretched ourselves, we looked out at the door of our shed. The prospect was very rural and very tropical, but, as just then we wanted some of the civilised comforts of life, a few substantial houses would have been more gratifying to our sight. However, at that moment a voice was heard indulging in a half-French, half-negro song, and a jolly fat blackamoor appeared, with a white apron on, a bowl under one arm and a towel over the other.
“Ah, there comes our perruquier. He’s a capital fellow. You’ll want his aid, some of you. Venez ici, Antoine!” sang out one of our friends.
Antoine, nothing loth, turned aside to us, for every new chin added to his wealth; and he very soon had us shaven and shorn as clean as the friar the old nursery song tells about, and all the time he was talking and laughing and singing in the most cheery way imaginable. Our friends then brought us some milk and bread for breakfast, and, hungry as we were, we were right glad to partake of it. This done, we sallied forth to inspect the town, as we had hitherto persisted in calling it. What was our disappointment and disgust to find that it was not superior to a village of very poor pretensions, and that there was scarcely a house fit, in any way, for us to occupy. There were, however, three shops, great rivals, each trying to ascertain what atrociously bad articles they could pass off on their customers, and how high the price they might venture to demand. Thoroughly disappointed, we returned to our shed to rest during the heat of the day. In the afternoon we again sallied out, and succeeded in securing a tumble-down looking house, with three rooms in it and several out-houses adjoining.
This miserable place, then, was to be our abode for weeks and months, perhaps for years! We were all of us but scantily supplied with clothes; we had but few books, and but a scarcity of writing materials, and no fowling-pieces, so that we could not even look forward to the prospect of obtaining some sport to enable us to pass the time, and to assist in furnishing our ill-supplied table. Altogether, our prospect was gloomy and disheartening in the extreme, nor could any of us discover a ray of light in the distance to cheer our spirits. Happily, sailors are not apt to moan and groan except when they are more comfortable than they have ever been before in their lives on shore, surrounded by their families and all the luxuries of civilisation; and then if they want their promotion, or can manage to dig up a grievance, they grumble with a vengeance. However, when real difficulties and dangers and troubles come, no men look up to them better; and so we resolved to be as happy as we could, but I must say that I never in my life had as much difficulty in making the best of it as I had on this disastrous occasion. Bitter, bitter indeed is the lot of a prisoner of war!