DU GUAY TROUIN
Another hero, privateer first and naval officer later, was Du Guay
Trouin--this being the name by which he was eventually known, and which
has been bestowed upon more than one vessel of the French Navy in
commemoration of his exploits. His family name was, properly speaking,
Trouin; his father was Luc Trouin, calling himself, after an estate
which he owned, Trouin de la Barbinais. The future privateer captain and
hero was the third son, and was born on June 10th, 1673, being named
Rene, after his uncle, then French consul at Malaga--a post which had
been held for some generations, apparently, by some member of the Trouin
family. Little Rene, placed under the care of a nursing woman at the
village of Le Gue, near by, became known as Rene Trouin du Gue, which
was twisted about until it became Du Gue, or Du Guay Trouin.
Rene was by no means intended from the first to follow an adventurous
career at sea; his father had a very different aim in view. His uncle
and namesake, Rene Trouin the consul, who was also his godfather, was
very friendly with the Archbishop at Malaga, and it was considered
politic that the boy should become an ecclesiastic, and so benefit by
the friendliness of the prelate towards his uncle; and indeed, he was
actually sent to the seminary at Rennes, as a very small boy, to
commence his studies for the priesthood--very much against his will, but
Luc Trouin was not to be trifled with; and so, until he was fifteen
years of age, Rene was held to be destined for the Church.
Then came a sudden change--his uncle and his father died within a year
of one another, and he prevailed upon his mother to permit him to quit
the seminary and study for the law. With this end in view he was sent to
Caen, but we do not learn that he became a very diligent student--on the
contrary, he displayed extreme precocity in getting into mischief of
every kind, the only good thing he learnt, apparently, being the use of
the sword; and finally, having betaken himself to Paris to kick up his
heels, he heard the waiter in a cafe order some wine for _Monsieur
Trouin de la Barbinais_, his eldest brother, who imagined him to be
engaged upon his studies at Caen--and thither young Rene fled
incontinently. His brother had, however, got wind of his proceedings; he
was summoned home, a family court-martial held upon him, and he was
sentenced to be sent off to sea, in a privateer of 18 guns, the
_Trinite_, fitted out by the house of Trouin. As Rene was then only
sixteen it was obviously a wholesome programme for a lad of such
precocious proclivities; he was soon to prove, however, that he was in
advance of his age in other matters than dissipation.
There was not much doing for a year or two; but, after having assisted
to take a small prize into St. Malo, young Du Trouin soon had an
opportunity of seeing hard knocks exchanged.
This was in a fight with a Dutch privateer, the _Concorde_, a vessel of
equal force, but the _Trinite_ had some thirty men absent in prizes.
However, the skipper, Fossart, was not a man who was afraid of odds,
and, seeing the stranger to leeward, cracked on his canvas in chase,
came up with her about noon, and fired a blank cartridge, followed by a
shot across the Dutchman's bows. This elicited the desired response--or,
at least, the expected response--of a broadside, and they went at it,
hammer and tongs, for over two hours, by which time the _Concorde_ was
considerably knocked about and the Frenchman thought it was time to
finish the affair by boarding. Directly the two vessels touched the
captain sprang on board. Young Du Guay Trouin leaped beside him. As he
did so, the vessels rebounded apart, and several Frenchmen fell between
them, only to be crushed to death as the helmsman brought the _Trinite_
up again. An old acquaintance of Du Guay Trouin was among the number,
being killed, to his horror, under his very eyes. However, there was no
time for lamentations over lost comrades. Rene's skill with the sword
now came into play, and he used it to good purpose, killing two out of
three Dutchmen who were attacking his captain. The Dutchmen yielded,
after a creditable resistance; and so Du Guay Trouin had his baptism of
fire and sword.
On his next ship, the _Grenedan_, he took a prominent part in the
capture of three out of a convoy of fifteen English ships off the
south-west coast of Ireland. Young as he was, he was always in the front
rank when fighting was going; and on his return, the _Grenedan_ entering
the harbour at St. Malo with the three prizes in her wake, amidst
enthusiastic cheers from the townspeople, his brother thought he might
be entrusted with the command of a ship. This was in the year 1691, when
he was not yet turned eighteen, and of course he would never have got a
command at that age under ordinary circumstances. He had, however,
proved himself to be something other than an ordinary lad, and his
brother, as head of the house, had the power to appoint him captain of
one of their privateers, if he was so minded. Accordingly, the young
sailor was given command of the _Danycan_--not much of a craft, being a
slow sailer and not heavily armed.
Caught in a gale of wind, the vessel was blown down Channel, and
afterwards chasing some vessels--she could never catch them--into the
Shannon, Du Guay Trouin landed his men in the night, burnt a couple of
vessels on the beach, did a little pillaging, and alarmed the whole
district. Messages were sent hot-foot to Limerick for the soldiers--it
was a French fleet, an invasion in force! Du Guay Trouin embarked his
men just as the soldiers came in sight, up anchor, and got away
cleverly. This was the only fun he had in the _Danycan_, for every
vessel she encountered could "wrong" her, as they used to say in those
days; that is to say, could sail round her; so there was not much honour
and glory to be got out of her.
On his return to St. Malo Du Guay Trouin was given a better craft--the
_Coetquen_, of 18 guns. It is said that he held his commission from
James II., the ex-king of England--it is certain that James did issue
such commissions after his abdication, and indeed his consort, the
_Saint Aaron_, commanded by one Welch, of Irish extraction, was thus
commissioned.
Du Guay Trouin soon had some exciting adventures. Falling in with a
fleet of English merchant vessels, under convoy of a couple of sloops,
the two privateers captured five ships and the two men-of-war; but, as
they were taking their prizes into St. Malo, an English squadron gave
chase; then they had to get in where they could. Welch got safely into
St. Malo with some of the vessels; Du Guay Trouin, being cornered, made
a dash for the Isle of Brehat, behind which the navigation is of the
most intricate and perilous description, with dozens of half-submerged
rocks and a swishing tide. He managed to get in, and some of the English
vessels which tried to follow him very nearly came to grief. He had been
under fire for some time, and unluckily his pilot was killed, and also
some others who were familiar with the locality; so he contrived to find
his way out without them, thus displaying that sort of intuitive skill
in navigation and the handling of a ship which has almost always
distinguished great seamen. He was not an accomplished navigator, having
neglected his studies; he was accustomed to trust entirely to "dead
reckoning." Certainly, the means of observing the altitude, etc., of the
sun and stars were very rude in those days; but Du Guay Trouin was not
expert even with these.
However, he got out of this trap, was presently blown into the Bristol
Channel, and found an English 60-gun ship arriving about the same time.
"Luckily," says one of his biographers, "there is an island in the
middle of this estuary; while the enemy came in on one side of it Du
Guay Trouin went out on the other." This, of course, is Lundy Island;
and, getting a good start, Du Guay Trouin escaped cleverly--going out,
so to speak, by the back door as his opponent came in by the front.
After this Du Guay Trouin had a bad time in the _Profond_, a very poor
sailer, and altogether an unlucky ship, so that he was glad to see the
last of her, and take command of the _Hercule_, of 28 guns.
After a little good fortune, he again fell upon evil days. No prey was
sighted for two months, provisions began to run short, sickness broke
out among the crew, discontent and insubordination soon followed. The
officers and men demanded that he should return to France, but, partly
by conciliation and partly by firmness, he persuaded them to keep the
sea for eight days longer, promising them that, if they did capture a
prize, they should pillage her and divide the spoil. On the last night
at sea, Du Guay Trouin tells us, he had a vivid dream that two deeply
laden ships hove in sight; at daybreak he went aloft--and there they
were! He took them both; they were rich prizes, and the crew were made
happy by being allowed, as he had promised, to pillage one of them.
His next ship was the _Diligente_, of 40 guns; and in her he was
destined to experience the misfortune of defeat and capture. First,
however, he came across the _Prince of Orange_, a hired armed vessel of
considerable force--Du Guay Trouin says of 60 guns--convoying a fleet of
thirty vessels. Having hailed one of them, and ascertained that they
were laden with coal, he determined not to risk loss and damage for such
a comparatively worthless cargo. Finding however, that his vessel easily
"had the heels" of the other, he indulged in some aggravating antics,
taking in sail so as to allow the English to come within gunshot,
shooting ahead again, under English colours, which he hoisted "union
down," _i.e._ as a signal "Am in need of assistance"; then, dropping
down once more, he so far forgot himself as to fire at the other while
still under English colours--a gross breach of international law,
accounted as an act of piracy. It was done, no doubt, through
inadvertence, but the English captain did not forget it, and the
Frenchman had cause to regret his carelessness.
And then came misfortune; nine days later he fell in with a squadron of
six English men-of-war cruising between Ireland and the Scilly Isles.
They immediately gave chase. A hard gale blowing, Du Guay Trouin ran for
the Scilly Isles, hard pressed by the _Adventure_ and _Dragon_. In among
the islands they ran, and by eleven o'clock the _Adventure_ was near
enough to engage, the _Diligente_ replying with her stern guns. Still
gaining in the heavy breeze, the _Adventure_--a 44-gun ship--was within
easy range, the _Dragon_--46 guns--not far astern. Du Guay Trouin
engaged the _Adventure_ for nearly three hours, hoping all the time to
escape; however, at half-past two his fore and main topmasts were shot
away, and the English vessel ranged up alongside, hauling up her
courses, the _Dragon_ at the same time signalising her arrival by a
broadside.
This was a pretty desperate state of affairs, but the gallant Frenchman
would not yet acknowledge himself beaten. Seeing the English vessel so
near, he conceived the idea of suddenly boarding her, and carrying her
off. He sent his officers to call the crew on deck, got the grapnels
ready, and ordered the helm to be put over. The two ships were rapidly
closing when one of the lieutenants of the _Diligente_, looking through
a port, and not imagining for a moment that his captain really
contemplated such a desperate measure, ordered the quartermaster to
reverse the helm. The ships fell apart, but Du Guay Trouin shouted to
jam the helm over again. It was too late; the English captain, knowing
that he and his consorts had the Frenchman secure, did not see the use
of having a hundred and fifty desperate men jumping on board, so he set
his courses, sheered off, and banged away again with his guns. The
_Monk_, of 60 guns, now arrived, and the _Diligente_ was fairly
surrounded, two more ships coming up shortly.
Still the French flag was kept flying. The men, less heroic than their
captain, began to run from their quarters. Du Guay Trouin cut down one,
pistolled another, and was hustling them generally, when fire broke out
below. He rushed down and had it extinguished, then provided himself
with a tub of grenades, which he began throwing down into the hold, so
that his crew found it too hot to remain below, and manned some of the
guns. However, this could not go on against such fearful odds, and on
gaining the deck once more he found that "some cowardly rascal" had
lowered the colours. He ordered them up again, but his officers
demurred; and then, with the last shot fired in the action, he was
wounded severely in the groin and dropped senseless. When he came to
himself the ship was in the possession of the English. He was taken on
board the _Monk_, where Captain Warren treated him right well--"with as
much care as though I had been his own son," says Du Guay Trouin--and he
was probably quite old enough to have been father to the young French
captain, who was then only one-and-twenty.
Arriving at Plymouth, the gallant young Frenchman became the object of
much interest and favour; naval and military officers entertained him,
civilians followed suit, and he was given, as he says, "the whole town
for his prison"; in other words, he was placed on his parole, and
allowed full liberty. Always susceptible to the attractions of women, he
found, as he tells us, "une fort jolie marchande"--a sweetly pretty
shop-girl, or shop-woman, with whom he formed a close acquaintance, and
who was eventually mainly instrumental in procuring his liberty. Pretty
girls, as we know, are reputed to be more abundant in Devonshire than in
many other parts, and no doubt the Frenchman found her very seductive.
It is curious what a diversity of parts this young woman is made to
assume among the biographers of Du Guay Trouin. One makes her out just a
shop-girl; another says she was "une jeune marchande qui preparait les
repas de Duguay"--a young shop-woman who prepared his meals--while Mr.
C.B. Norman, on what ground does not appear, calls her a "fair
_compatriote_"--a Frenchwoman, married to a "Devonshire merchant," and
has a good deal to say about the way in which she hoodwinked her good
husband while she was obtaining information for the young Frenchman when
he was in prison; we shall get him there directly. Du Guay Trouin, in
his "Memoires," simply speaks of her as already quoted; and
"_marchande_" certainly does not mean "merchant's wife."
However, there she is, being entertained sometimes by Du Guay Trouin,
and no doubt very proud of being the object of his attentions--just a
shop-girl, he says; and he ought to know.
This delightful condition of affairs was, however, unexpectedly
interrupted, for one fine day there arrived the _Prince of Orange_, to
refit after seeing her colliers safe; and the captain soon recognised,
in the prize lying at anchor, the vessel which fired at him under the
English flag. He was in a great state of mind, reported the
circumstances to the Admiralty, and demanded that Du Guay Trouin should
be treated as a pirate. The authorities demurred to this request, but
thought it advisable, during their deliberations, that he should not
have "the whole town for his prison"; so they put him in gaol, allowing
him, however, to order his own food and entertain his friends there. The
English officers who took turns on guard at the prison were very glad to
dine with him; and "my pretty shop-girl also came very often to pay me a
visit."
Too often, apparently, for the peace of mind of a young French refugee
officer, doing duty with an English company of soldiers; and he actually
came to Du Guay Trouin and begged his good offices to induce the girl to
marry him--or, at least, to show him favour. Du Guay Trouin was at first
disposed to refuse indignantly, though he apparently wishes to imply
that his intimacy with her was quite innocent. It occurred to him,
however, that the young soldier's infatuation might be turned to good
account.
He would, he said, serve him with all his heart; but he was rather
worried in his room, and could not see his way to do much unless he
could entertain her in some more open place--the cafe close to the
prison would do very well; she could come there without suspicion, and,
if he had but one chance there, he would use all his eloquence with her,
and would even arrange that the love-lorn young soldier should spend the
rest of the evening with her.
The bait was too strong for his loyalty. Du Guay Trouin, having
established an understanding with "his gentle shop-girl," represented to
her feelingly that the trial of imprisonment would soon cause him to
succumb if she would not have the goodness to assist him to escape;
which, of course, she did, first becoming his messenger to a Swedish
captain, who sold him a good boat for L35, with sails and oars complete.
The whole scheme came off to admiration. Du Guay Trouin, with the
connivance of the impatient lover, who had seen his lady enter the cafe,
left his room and followed, the young officer only imploring him not to
keep him long in suspense. "But," says Du Guay Trouin, "I scarcely gave
myself time to thank and kiss that wholesome little friend"--he was out
at the back, over the wall, and in the company of some of his officers
and six stalwart, well-armed Swedish sailors before the French officer
had any time to be anxious; and by ten o'clock they were in the boat,
sailing by the men-of-war, answering "Fishermen" to the hail of the
sentries, and so to sea. They reached the island of Brehat after a rough
passage of fifty hours, and, after resting for a while, made their way
to St. Malo, where Du Guay Trouin learned that his brother had a fine
ship fitting out for him at Rochefort.
Whether the love-sick soldier went to look for "la jolie marchande" and
what she said to him are not recorded; but it is to be feared that he
experienced a rude awakening.
In his new command, named _Francois_, of 48 guns, Du Guay Trouin was
soon busy, taking several prizes of considerable value off the coast of
Ireland. He was longing, however, for an opportunity of avenging himself
for his defeat and capture, and early in the year 1695 he had his wish,
encountering a large convoy of vessels laden with huge spars, suitable
for masts, etc., bound from North America, under the protection of the
_Nonsuch_, of 48 guns. One of the convoy, the _Falcon_, was also well
armed, carrying 38 guns, according to Du Guay Trouin, and pierced for
72. He calls the _Falcon_ the _Boston_, and the _Nonsuch_ by the
equivalent French name, _Sanspareil_.
He says that the inhabitants of Boston had had the _Falcon_ built, and
loaded with valuable mast-timber and choice skins, as a present to King
William III.
Sighting the enemy about noon, Du Guay Trouin immediately attacked the
_Falcon_, and with his first few broadsides inflicted immense damage,
sending her maintopmast by the board, and smashing her mainyard. Leaving
her for a time, he laid his ship on board the _Nonsuch_, the two ships
exchanging a hot fire from great guns and small arms the while. The
Frenchmen discharged a number of grenades on the decks of the _Nonsuch_,
and then the boarders leaped across; but fire broke out on the after
part of the English ship, and raged with such fury that Du Guay Trouin
was compelled to recall his men and disengage his vessel. Seeing the
flames nearly extinguished, he closed again; but he was premature, for
the fire once more flared up, and caught his own maintopsail and
foresail. While both ships were busy tackling the fire night came on,
and they fell apart, repairing damages on both sides.
At daybreak Du Guay Trouin renewed his attack upon the _Nonsuch_; but
just as he was laying her aboard her fore and mainmasts fell with a
crash, and he was compelled once more to sheer off--this time however,
with the certainty that she was his. Seeing the _Falcon_ making all sail
in the endeavour to escape, he steered for her, and very quickly
obtained her submission; meanwhile, the _Nonsuch_ had lost her remaining
mast, and was an absolute wreck, sorely damaged also in her hull.
Thus the determined young French captain had things all his own way; and
he thoroughly deserved his success, which was the outcome of fine
seamanship, backed by good gunnery and indomitable courage.
The captain of the _Nonsuch_ was killed. The court-martial which was
subsequently held on the surviving officers found that he had not made
adequate preparation for fighting, and so was overcome by a considerably
inferior force, for the _Nonsuch_ and the _Francois_ were about equal.
All the vessels engaged were very badly damaged, and, a gale of wind
springing up immediately after the action, their position became very
hazardous. The _Falcon_ was recaptured by four Dutch privateers; the
_Nonsuch_ and _Francois_ with difficulty managed to reach port.
On hearing of this achievement the King of France sent Du Guay Trouin a
sword of honour, and his name was in every mouth.
He sailed next with a squadron under the Marquis de Nesmond which
captured the English 70-gun ship the _Hope_, and subsequently he and a
consort took three East Indiamen, with cargoes valued at about one
million sterling.
After having been, to his great delight and exultation, presented to the
king in Paris, he fitted out the _Nonsuch_, under the name _Sanspareil_,
with an armament of 42 guns, and cruised off the coast of Spain. On this
cruise there occurred an incident which was very characteristic of Du
Guay Trouin's presence of mind and audacity.
Having news of three Dutch merchant ships lying at Vigo awaiting the
escort of an English man-of-war, he took advantage of the English build
and appearance of his ship, and hoisting English colours, appeared in
the entrance of Vigo Bay. Two of the Dutchmen, completely deceived,
immediately joined him, and were, of course, captured; the third,
luckily for her, was not ready for sea.
This was all very nice; but one fine morning, at daybreak, he found
himself close under the lee of a strong English fleet. Many men would
have despaired of getting out of such a trap; but Du Guay Trouin
instantly conceived a plan of action. Signalling to his prize-masters in
the two Dutch ships to salute him with seven guns, and run to leeward,
he calmly stood towards the fleet, as though he belonged to it, and had
merely fallen out to overhaul the two Dutch vessels. Two large ships and
a 36-gun frigate hauled out of line to inspect him, but, being
completely deceived by his appearance and nonchalance, they
desisted--the frigate, however, displaying undue curiosity with regard
to the two Dutch vessels. This was very disturbing, and Du Guay Trouin
was on tenter-hooks as he watched her approach them; however, he kept
jogging along quietly with the English fleet, until, by edging away
gradually, he was in a position to make a run for it. Setting all his
canvas, he tried to place himself between the frigate and his prizes;
and he rapidly conceived the glorious idea of boarding and capturing the
frigate in view of the whole fleet--most likely he would have succeeded,
as he had a far more numerous crew; but the English captain began to
suspect, and, keeping a gunshot to windward, lowered a boat to board and
question Du Guay Trouin. When it was half-way on its journey, the boat's
crew suddenly realised the truth, and hastily returned; upon which Du
Guay Trouin hoisted his colours and opened fire on the frigate. This
woke up the Englishmen--who must, indeed, have been very sleepy--and
several large ships detached themselves and came down upon the
_Sanspareil_; before they could reach her, however, the frigate, much
damaged by Du Guay Trouin's fire, made urgent signals of distress, and
while they were soothing the frigate and recovering her boat, Du Guay
Trouin quietly made off and took his prizes safely into port! He was
really a glorious fellow--and only now three-and-twenty.
Du Guay Trouin, shortly after this, had cause of complaint against a
naval captain whom he encountered at sea, and who, evidently jealous of
his successes, fired on his boat, and, calling him on board his ship,
rated him in the most contemptuous and insulting manner, threatening to
"keel-haul" him, and so on. This is a good example of the behaviour of
the aristocratic naval officers towards privateersmen, and it is not
surprising if the latter demurred to accepting commissions in the Navy.
Du Guay Trouin, however, was destined ere long to take his place there,
after a most tremendous and bloody encounter with some Dutch men-of-war
escorting a fleet of merchantmen.
He was then commanding the _St. Jacques des Victoires_, and had in
company his old ship the _Sanspareil_, commanded by his cousin, Jacques
Boscher, and the _Leonore_, of 16 guns. Being joined, after sighting
this fleet, under the care of two 50-gun and one 30-gun ship, by two
large St. Malo privateers, Du Guay Trouin reckoned that he was strong
enough to attack--with five ships to three, though the _Leonore_ did not
count for much in such an action. However, he despatched her to seize
some of the convoy, told his cousin in the _Sanspareil_ to tackle one of
the 50-gun ships while he went for the other, and the two St. Malo men
took care of the frigate in the middle. By the action of the Dutchmen Du
Guay Trouin and his cousin exchanged antagonists; the ship destined for
Boscher fell foul of the _St. Jacques_, and Trouin, with his customary
promptitude and impetuosity, immediately launched half his crew on board
and carried her. The Dutch commodore's ship, the _Delft_, proved a very
hard nut to crack. The _Sanspareil_ was repulsed with great loss, her
poop on fire, cartridges exploding promiscuously, and nearly a hundred
men blown up, shot dead, or wounded. She sheered off, and Du Guay Trouin
ran alongside the _Delft_, to be received with even greater warmth. Her
captain, an heroic man, fought like a demon, and the _St. Jacques_ also
was forced to haul off to breathe the men, who were getting somewhat
disheartened, and repair considerable damages. Meanwhile, the larger of
the St. Malo vessels, the _Faluere_, was directed to keep the
redoubtable Dutchman amused, but she soon had enough of it, losing her
captain, and running to leeward.
Du Guay Trouin was not going to give in, however. He rallied his men,
and, summoning the _Faluere_ to his aid, he went for the _Delft_ once
more--as he says, "with head down." He got her--but it cost him more
than half his crew, and every one of the Dutch officers was killed or
wounded. The commodore, Baron de Wassenaer, fell on his quarter-deck
with four deadly wounds, his sword still grasped in his hand, and was
made prisoner.
Then they had an awful night, for it came on to blow hard, on a lee
shore; all the ships were frightfully battered and leaking, masts and
rigging cut to pieces, and the already exhausted crews had to turn to at
the pumps for dear life. On board the _St. Jacques_ the Dutch prisoners
were set to work to lighten the ship by throwing overboard all her
upper-deck guns, spars, shot--everything movable, to keep her afloat.
Day broke at length, the wind abated, and, with the assistance of boats
from the shore, the ship was brought in: a sorry wreck, indeed, but the
fruits of her labour soon came to hand--three Dutch men-of-war and
twelve ships of the convoy. The _Sanspareil_ arrived twenty-four hours
later, having barely survived the Dutchman's furious onslaught.
For this service Du Guay Trouin received a commission as commander in
the Navy, and was again presented to the king.
As a regular naval officer, he no longer remains within the scope of
these pages; but there is one incident which should not be omitted, even
though it be somewhat to the discredit of the English.
In the year 1704 Du Guay Trouin was in command of the _Jason_, 54 guns,
in company with the _Auguste_, of equal force, when they fell in, at
night, with the English ship _Chatham_, an old antagonist, which had
before escaped them. At daybreak they were on either side of her,
blazing away, the English vessel making every effort to escape, while
maintaining creditably her part in the fighting, and the three of them
ran into the English fleet. Then things became serious for the two
French ships: some of the fastest sailers in the fleet were sent after
them. The _Auguste_ was a poor sailer, so they agreed to separate. But
the English had force enough to pursue them both, and the _Auguste_ was
soon disposed of. The _Jason_ held on, and presently was tackled by the
_Worcester_, of 50 guns, which was considerably knocked about, and
dropped astern. Other ships came up, however, and, supported by their
presence, the _Worcester_ again attacked indecisively. With the dusk,
the wind dropped altogether, and there was the _Jason_, surrounded by
foes in the darkness, only waiting for daylight to eat her up.
Naturally, her captain did not find it easy to sleep; and it was
characteristic of him that he still planned in his mind some desperate
measure. He told his officers that he intended to go straight for the
English flagship; that he himself would take the helm and run aboard
her, and that he thus hoped to perform a brilliant feat of arms, by
carrying this ship, before they succumbed to superior force--and in any
case, his flag was not coming down unless the enemy could get there to
haul it down themselves.
With this heroic resolve in contemplation, he paced the deck. There was
not a breath of wind. The ship rolled a little uneasily, the timbers
creaking and blocks rattling aloft, while the few sails that were set
slatted against the masts and rigging occasionally in that irritating
fashion with which all seamen are familiar. At various distances round
him were the enemy's vessels, few of them probably out of gunshot, and
some very near.
About an hour before daybreak Du Guay Trouin noticed a dark line above
the horizon ahead of his ship; he watched it carefully, and felt
convinced that a breeze was coming from that quarter. Calling the crew
quietly on deck, he made sail, braced the yards up, and with one or two
of the huge oars or "sweeps" provided in those days, he got the ship's
head round so as to catch the breeze in a favourable manner in case it
should come. And it did come: at first a breath, which barely gave the
ship steerage-way; then a little stronger--she steals ahead, two knots,
three knots; the Englishmen are all taken aback, with their topsails
lowered, their yards braced anyhow. Before they can make and trim sail
the _Jason_ is clear of the ruck of them, a good gunshot clear! The
_Worcester_ was once more the only one to tackle her, and was soon
shaken off--by noon she was fast dropping astern; and, says Du Guay
Trouin, "I looked on myself as though risen from the dead."
Well he might do, too. And what were all those Englishmen thinking
about, each ship with an officer in charge of the deck? One would
imagine that they could see a breeze coming as well as a Frenchman
could. But Du Guay Trouin had one essential element of success about
him--- _he never threw away a chance._
He died in 1736. France may well be proud of him. Think of a lad of
one-and-twenty, pressed by half a dozen ships among the Scilly Islands,
conceiving that plan of boarding and capturing the _Adventure_! That
incident alone is sufficient to mark him as excelling by many degrees
the average--nay, the more than average--fighting seaman.