PETER SIMPLE FIRST TAKES A COMMAND, THEN THREE WEST INDIAMEN, AND TWENTY
PRISONERS--ONE GOOD TURN DESERVES ANOTHER--THE PRISONERS ENDEAVOUR TO
TAKE HIM, BUT ARE THEMSELVES TAKEN IN.
The next day I was very unhappy. The brig was in the offing waiting for
me to come on board. I pointed her out to Celeste as we were at the
window, and her eyes met mine. An hour's conversation could not have
said more. General O'Brien showed that he had perfect confidence in me,
for he left us together.
"Celeste," said I, "I have promised your father--"
"I know what has passed," interrupted she; "he told me everything."
"How kind he is! But I did not say that I would not bind myself,
Celeste."
"No! but my father made me promise that you should not--that if you
attempted, I was immediately to prevent you--and so I shall."
"Then you shall keep your word, Celeste. Imagine everything that can be
said in this--" and I kissed her.
"Don't think me forward, Peter, but I wish you to go away happy," said
Celeste; "and therefore, in return, imagine all I could say in this--"
and she returned my salute, kissing my cheek.
After this, we had a conversation of two hours; but what lovers say is
very silly, except to themselves, and the reader need not be troubled
with it. General O'Brien came in, and told me the boat was ready. I
rose up--I was satisfied with what had passed, and with a firm voice, I
said, "Good-bye, Celeste; God bless you!" and followed the general, who,
with some of his officers, walked down with me to the beach. I thanked
the general, who embraced me, paid my adieus to the officers, and
stepped into the boat. In half-an-hour I was on board of the brig, and
in O'Brien's arms. We put the helm up, and in a short time the town of
St. Pierre was shut out from my longing sight, and we were on our way to
Barbadoes. That day was passed in the cabin with O'Brien, giving me a
minute detail of all that had passed.
When we anchored once more in Carlisle Bay, we found that the hurricane
had been much more extensive in the Windward Islands than we had
imagined. Several men-of-war were lying there, having lost one or more
of their masts, and there was great difficulty in supplying the wants of
so many. As we arrived the last, of course we were last served; and,
there being no boats left in store, there was no chance of our being
ready for sea under two or three months. The _Joan d'Arc_ schooner
privateer was still lying there, but had not been fitted out for want of
men; and the admiral proposed to O'Brien that he should man her with a
part of his ship's company, and send one of his lieutenants out to
cruise in her. This was gladly assented to by O'Brien, who came on
board and asked me whether I should like to have her, which I agreed to,
as I was quite tired of Barbadoes and fried flying fish.
I selected two midshipmen, Swinburne, and twenty men, and having taken
on board provisions and water for three months, I received my written
instructions from O'Brien, and made sail. We soon discovered that the
masts which the American had sold to the schooner were much too large
for her: she was considerably overmasted, and we were obliged to be very
careful. I stood for Trinidad, off which island was to be my cruising
ground, and in three weeks had recaptured three West Indiamen; when I
found myself so short of hands, that I was obliged to return to
Barbadoes. I had put four hands into the first vessel, which, with the
Englishmen, prisoners, were sufficient, and three hands into the two
others; but I was very much embarrassed with my prisoners, who amounted
to nearly double my ship's company, remaining on board. Both the
midshipmen I had sent away, and I consulted with Swinburne as to what
was best to be done.
"Why, the fact is, Mr Simple, Captain O'Brien ought to have given us
more hands; twenty men are little enough for a vessel with a boom
mainsail like the one we have here; and now we have only ten left! but I
suppose he did not expect us to be so lucky, and it's true enough that
he has plenty of work for the ship's company, now that he has to turn
everything in afresh. As for the prisoners, I think we had better run
close in, and give them two of our boats to take them on shore. At all
events, we must be rid of them, and not be obliged to have one eye aloft
and the other down the hatchway, as we must now."
This advice corresponded with my own ideas, and I ran in-shore, gave
them the stern boat and one of the larger ones, which held them all, and
sent them away, leaving only one boat for the schooner, which was
hoisted up on the starboard chess-tree. It fell a dead calm as we sent
away the prisoners; we saw them land and disappear over the rocks, and
thought ourselves well rid of them, as they were twenty-two in number,
most of them Spaniards, and very stout, ferocious-looking fellows.
It continued calm during the whole day, much to our annoyance, as I was
very anxious to get away as soon as I could; still I could not help
admiring the beauty of the scenery--the lofty mountains, rising abruptly
from the ocean, and towering in the clouds, reflecting on the smooth
water, as clear as in a looking-glass, every colour, every tint,
beautifully distinct. The schooner gradually drifted close in-shore,
and we could perceive the rocks at the bottom, many fathoms deep. Not a
breath of wind was to be seen on the surface of the water for several
miles round, although the horizon in the offing showed that there was a
smart breeze outside.
Night came on, and we still lay becalmed. I gave my orders to
Swinburne, who had the first watch, and retired to my standing bed-place
in the cabin. I was dreaming, and I hardly need say who was the object
of my visions. I thought I was in Eagle Park, sitting down with her
under one of the large chestnut trees, which formed the avenue, when I
felt my shoulder roughly pushed. I started up--"What is the matter?
Who's that--Swinburne?"
"Yes, sir. On with your clothes immediately, as we have work on hand, I
expect;" and Swinburne left the cabin immediately.
I heard him calling the other men who were below. I knew that Swinburne
would not give a false alarm. In a minute I was on deck, where I found
he had just arrived, and was looking at the stern of the schooner.
"What is that, Swinburne?" said I.
"Silence, sir. Hark! don't you hear them?"
"Yes," replied I; "the sound of oars."
"Exactly, sir; depend upon it, those Spaniards have got more help, and
are coming back to take the vessel; they know we have only ten hands on
board."
By this time the men were all on deck. I directed Swinburne to see all
the muskets loaded, and ran down for my own sword and pistols. The
water was so smooth, and the silence so profound, that Swinburne had
heard the sound of the oars at a considerable distance. Fortunate it
was, that I had such a trusty follower. Another might have slumbered,
and the schooner have been boarded and captured without our being
prepared. When I came on deck again I spoke to the men, exhorted them
to do their duty, and pointed out to them that these cut-throat villains
would certainly murder us all if we were taken, which I firmly believe
would have been the case. The men declared that they would sell their
lives as dearly as they could. We had twenty muskets, and the same
number of pistols, all of which were now loaded. Our guns were also
ready, but of no use, now that the schooner had not steerage-way.
The boats were in sight, about a quarter of a mile astern, when
Swinburne said, "There's a cat's-paw flying along the water, Mr Simple;
if we could only have a little wind, how we would laugh at them; but I'm
afraid there's no such luck. Shall we let them know that we are ready?"
"Let every one of us take two muskets," said I: "when the first boat is
under the counter, take good aim, and discharge into one of the boats;
then seize the other musket, and discharge it at the other boat. After
that, we must trust to our cutlasses and pistols; for if they come on,
there will be no time to load again. Keep silence, all of you."
The boats now came up, full of men; but as we remained perfectly quiet,
they pulled up gently, hoping to surprise us. Fortunately, one was a
little in advance of the other; upon which I altered my directions, and
desired my men to fire their second musket upon the first boat, as, if
we could disable her, we were an equal match for those in the other.
When the boat was within six yards of the schooner's counter. "Now!"
said I, and all the muskets were discharged at once, and my men cheered.
Several of the oars dropped, and I was sure we had done great
execution; but they were laid hold of by the other men, who had not been
pulling, and again the boat advanced to the counter.
"Good aim, my lads, this time," cried Swinburne; "the other boat will be
alongside as soon as you have fired. Mr Simple, the schooner has
headway, and there's a strong breeze coming up."
Again we discharged our ten muskets into the boat, but this time we
waited until the bowman had hooked on the planeshear with his boat-hook,
and our fire was very effective. I was surprised to find that the other
boat was not on board of us: but a light breeze had come up, and the
schooner glided through the water. Still she was close under our
counter, and would have been aboard in a minute.
In the meantime, the Spaniards who were in the first boat were climbing
up the side, and were repulsed by my men with great success. The breeze
freshened, and Swinburne ran to the helm. I perceived the schooner was
going fast through the water, and the second boat could hardly hold her
own. I ran to where the boat-hook was fixed on the planeshear, and
unhooked it; the boat fell astern, leaving two Spaniards clinging to the
side, who were cut down, and they fell into the water.
"Hurrah! all safe!" cried Swinburne; "and now to punish them."
The schooner was now darting along at the rate of five miles, with an
increasing breeze. We stood in for two minutes, then tacked, and ran
for the boats. Swinburne steered, and I continued standing in the bows,
surrounded by the rest of the men. "Starboard a little, Swinburne."
"Starboard it is."
"Steady--steady: I see the first boat, she is close under our bows.
Steady--port--port--port a little--port. Look out, my lads, and cut
down all who climb up."
Crash went the schooner on to the boat, the men in her in vain
endeavouring to escape us. For a second or two she appeared to right,
until her further gunwale was borne down under the water; she turned up,
and the schooner went over her, sending every soul in her to their
account. One man clung on to a rope, and was towed for a few seconds,
but a cutlass divided the rope at the gunwale, and with a faint shriek
he disappeared. The other boat was close to us, and perceived what had
been done. They remained with their oars poised, all ready to pull so
as to evade the schooner. We steered for her, and the schooner was now
running at the rate of seven miles an hour. When close under our bows,
by very dexterously pulling short round with their starboard oars, we
only struck her with our bow; and before she went down many of the
Spaniards had gained the deck, or were clinging to the side of the
vessel. They fought with desperation, but we were too strong for them.
It was only those who had gained the deck which we had to contend with.
The others clung for a time, and unable to get up the sides, one by one
dropped into the water and went astern. In a minute, those on deck were
lying at our feet, and in a minute more, they were tossed overboard
after their companions; not, however, until one of them struck me
through the calf of the leg with his knife, as we were lifting him over
the gunwale. I do not mean to say that the Spaniards were not justified
in attempting to take the schooner; but still, as we had liberated them
but a few hours before, we felt that it was unhandsome and treacherous
on their part, and therefore showed them no quarter. There were two of
my men wounded as well as myself, but not severely, which was fortunate,
as we had no surgeon on board, and only about half a yard of diachylum
plaster in the vessel.
"Well out of that, sir," said Swinburne, as I limped aft. "By the Lord
Harry! it might have been a _pretty go_."
Having shaped our course for Barbadoes, I dressed my leg, and went down
to sleep. This time I did not dream of Celeste, but fought the Spaniard
over again, thought I was wounded, and awoke with the pain of my leg.