“I better brook the loss of brittle life,
Than those proud titles thou hast won of me;
They wound my thoughts, worse than thy sword my flesh.”
SHAKESPEARE
Half-way between this inlet and the ship-yard, I found Marble, standing
with his arms folded, gazing after the receding ship. His countenance
was no longer saddened; but it was fierce. He shook his hand menacingly
at the French ensign, which was flying at our old gaff, and said--
“Ay, d----n you, flutter away; you quiver and shake now like one of
your coxcombs pigeon-winging; but where will you be this day two months?
Miles, no man but a bloody Frenchman would cast away a ship, there where
this Mister Count has left the bones of his vessel; though _here_, where
we came so nigh going, it's a miracle any man could escape. Hadn't we
brought the Crisis through that opening first, he never would have dared
to go out by it.”
I confess I saw little about Monsieur Le Compte's management but skill
and good seamanship; but nothing is more painful to most men than to
admit the merit of those who have obtained an advantage over them.
Marble could not forget his own defeat; and the recollection jaundiced
his eyes, and biassed his judgment.
“I see our people are busy, already, sir,” I remarked, by way of drawing
the captain's attention to some other subject. “They have hauled the
schooner up to the yard, and seem to be getting along spars for shores.”
“Ay, ay--Talcott has his orders; and I expect you will bestir yourself.
I shall step the masts myself, and you will get all the rigging ready
to be put into its place, the moment it is possible. That Frenchman
calculated, he told me to my face, that we might get to sea in a
fortnight; I will let him see that a set of Yankees can rig and stow his
bloody schooner, in three days, and then leave themselves time to play.”
Marble was not a man of idle vaunts. He soon had everybody at work, with
a system, order, silence, and activity, that proved he was master of
his profession. Nor was the language which might sound so boastful to
foreign ears, altogether without its justification. Forty Americans
were a formidable force; and, well directed, I make no doubt they would
accomplish far more than the ordinary run of French seamen, as they were
governed and managed in the year 1800, and, counting them man for man,
would have accomplished in double the time. Our crew had now long acted
together, and frequently under the most trying circumstances; and
they showed their training, if men ever did, on the present occasion.
Everybody was busy; and we had the shears up, and both masts stepped, in
the course of a few hours. By the time the main-mast was in, I had
the fore-mast rigged, the jib-boom in its place, the sprit-sail yard
crossed--everything carried a spar under its bowsprit then--and the
lower yard up. It is true, the French had got everything ready for us;
and when we turned the hands to, after dinner, we actually began to
strike in cargo, water, provisions, and such other things, as it was
intended to carry away. At dusk, when we knocked off work, the Emily
looked like a sea-going craft, and there was every prospect of our
having her ready for sea, by the following evening. But, the duty had
been carried on, in silence. Napoleon said there had been more noise
made in the little schooner which carried him from l'Orient to Basque
Roads, than was made on board the line-of-battle ship that conveyed him
to St. Helena, during the whole passage. Since that memorable day, the
French have learned to be silent on board ship, and the fruits remain to
be seen.
That night, Marble and myself consulted together on the aspect of
things--or, as he expressed it, “we generalized over our prospects.”
Monsieur Le Compte had done one thing which duty required of him. He
did not leave us a kernel of the gunpowder belonging to either ship; nor
could we find a boarding-pike, cutlass, or weapon of any sort, except
the officers' pistols. We had a canister of powder, and a sufficiency
of bullets for the last, which had been left as, out of an _esprit de
corps_, or the feeling of an officer, which told him we might possibly
need these means to keep our own crew in order. Such was not the fact,
however, with the particular people we happened to have; a more orderly
and reasonable set of men never sailing together. But, Monsieur Le
Compte knew it was his duty to put it out of their power to trouble us,
so far as it lay in his; but, at the same time, while he left us the
means of safety, he provided against our doing any further injury to his
own countrymen. In this he had pretty effectually succeeded, so far as
armament was concerned.
The next morning I was up with the appearance of the dawn, and, having
suffered much from the heat the preceding day, I walked to a suitable
spot, threw off my clothes, and plunged into the basin. The water was
transparent almost as air; and I happened to select a place where the
coral grew within a few yards of the surface. As I dove, my eye fell on
a considerable cluster of large oysters that were collected on the rock,
and, reaching them, I succeeded in bringing up half a dozen that clung
to each other. These dives I repeated, during the next quarter of an
hour, until I had all the oysters, sixty or eighty in number, safe on
the shore. That they were the pearl oysters, I knew immediately; and
beckoning to Neb, the fellow soon had them snug in a basket, and put
away in a place of security. The circumstance was mentioned to Marble,
who, finding no more heavy drags to be made, ordered the Sandwich
Islanders to take a boat and pass a few hours in their regular
occupation, on account of the owners--if, indeed, the last had any
further claim on our services. These men met with tolerable success,
though, relatively, nothing equal to mine. What, just then, was of far
more importance, they made a discovery of an arm-chest lying on the
bottom of the basin, at the anchorage of the Crisis, and which had
doubtless been sunk there by the French. We had all la Pauline's boats
but the captain's gig. I went in one of them with a gang of hands, and,
the divers securing a rope to the handles of the chest, we soon got it
in. It turned out to be one of the arm-chests of the Crisis, which the
French had found in their way and thrown overboard, evidently preferring
to use weapons to which they were accustomed. They had done better by
carrying the chest out to sea, and disposing of it in fifty or a hundred
fathom water.
The prize was turned over to the gunner, who reported that it was the
chest in which we kept our cutlasses and pistols, of both of which there
was a sufficient supply to give every man one of each. There were also
several horns of powder, and a bag of bullets; but the first was ruined
by the water. As for the arms, they were rubbed dry, oiled, and put away
again in the chest, after the last had stood a whole day, in the hot
sun, open. Thus, through the agency of men brought for a very different
purpose, we were put in possession of the means of achieving the
exploit, which might now be said to form the great object of our lives.
That day we got everything on board the schooner that it was thought
desirable to take with us. We left much behind that was valuable, it is
true, especially the copper; but Marble wisely determined that it was
inexpedient to put the vessel deeper than good ballast-trim, lest it
should hurt her sailing. We had got her fairly to her bearings, and this
was believed to be as low as was expedient. It is true, a great deal
remained to be stowed; the deck being littered, and the hold, the
ground-tier excepted, in great confusion. But our bread, water, beef,
pork, and other eatables, were all there, and in abundance; and, though
not to be had for the asking, they were still to be had. The sails were
bent, and the only anchor, la Pauline's stream, with her two largest
kedges, was on our bows. While in this condition, Marble gave the
unexpected order for all hands to come on board, and for the shore-fasts
to be cast off.
Of course, there was no dissenting to so positive a command. We had
signed new shipping-articles for the schooner, extending the engagements
made when we entered on board the Crisis, to this new vessel, or any
other she might capture. The wind was a steady trade, and, when we
showed our main-sail and jib to it, the little craft glided athwart the
basin like a duck. Shooting through the pass, Marble tacked her twice,
as soon as he had an offing; and everybody was delighted with the
quickness with which she was worked. There was barely light enough to
enable us to find our way through the opening in the reef; and, just
thirty-eight hours after the Crisis sailed, we were on her track. We had
only conjecture to guide us as to the ship's course, with the exception
of the main fact of her having sailed for the west coast of South
America; but we had not failed to notice that she disappeared in the
north-east trades on a bow-line. We put the schooner as near as possible
on the same course, making a proper allowance for the difference in the
rig of the two vessels.
The distance run that night, satisfied us all that Mons. Le Compte was
a good draftsman. The schooner ran 106 miles in twelve hours, against
a very respectable sea, which was at least ten or fifteen more than the
Crisis could have done under the same circumstances. It is true, that
what was close-hauled for her, was not close-hauled for us; and, in this
respect, we had the advantage of her. Marble was so well pleased with
our night's work, that when he came on deck next morning, the first
thing he did was to order a bottle of rum to be brought him, and then
all hands to be called. As soon as the people were up, he went forward,
got into the head, and commanded every body to muster on the forecastle.
Marble now made a speech.
“We have some good, and some bad luck, this v'y'ge, men,” he said; “and,
when we generalize on the subject, it will be found that good luck has
usually followed the bad luck. Now, the savages, with that blackguard
Smudge, knocked poor Captain Williams in the head, and threw him
overboard, and got the ship from us; then came the good luck of getting
her back again. After this, the French did us that unhandsome thing:
now, here comes the good luck of their leaving us a craft that will
overhaul the ship, when I needn't tell _you,_ what will come of it.”
Here all hands, as in duty bound, gave three cheers. “Now, I neither
sail nor fight in a craft that carries a French name. Captain Count
christened the schooner the--Mr. Wallingford will tell you her exact
name.”
“_La Belle Emélie,_” said I, “or the Beautiful Emily.”
“None of your belles for me, nor your Beautiful Emilys either,” cried
Marble, smashing the bottle over the schooner's nose; “So here goes
three cheers again, for the 'Pretty Poll,' which was the name the craft
was born to, and the name she shall bear, as long as Moses Marble sails
her.”
From that moment, the schooner was known by the name of the “Pretty
Poll.” I met with portions of our crew years afterwards, and they always
spoke of her by this appellation; sometimes familiarly terming her the
“Poll,” or the “Polly.”
All the first day out, we were busy in making ourselves comfortable, and
in getting the Polly's trim. We succeeded so well in this last, that,
according to our calculations, we made a knot an hour more than the
Crisis could have done under the same circumstances, fast as the ship
was known to be. As the Crisis had about thirty-eight hours the start
of us, and ran, on an average, about seven knots the hour for all that
time, it would require about ten days to overtake her. Of course this
could only happen, according to our own calculations, when we were from
eighteen hundred to two thousand miles from the island. For my own part,
I sincerely hoped it would not occur at all, at sea; feeling satisfied
our only chances of success depended on surprise. By following the
vessel into some port, it might be possible to succeed; but, for an
unarmed schooner to attack a ship like the Crisis, with even a large
crew on board; it seemed rashness to think of it. Marble, however, would
not listen to my remonstrances. He insisted we had more than powder
enough to load all our pistols half-a-dozen times each, and, laying the
ship plump aboard, the pistols would do the rest. I was silenced, quite
as a matter of course, if not convinced.
The fifth day out, Neb came to me, saying--“Master Miles, somet'ing must
be done wid 'em 'ere 'ysters! Dey smell, onaccountable; and de people
swear dey will t'row 'em overboard, if I don't eat 'em. I not hungry
enough for _dat_, sir.”
These were the pearl oysters, already mentioned, which had been
hastening to dissolution and decomposition, by the heat of the hold. As
the captain was as much concerned in this portion of the cargo, as I was
myself, I communicated the state of things to him, and he ordered the
bags and barrels on deck, forthwith. It was well something was done, or
I doubt not a disease would have been the consequence. As decomposition
was the usual process by which to come at the treasures of these
animals, however, everything was exactly in the state we wished.
An uninterested observer would have laughed, at seeing the employment
of the quarter-deck, for the next four hours. Marble, and the two mates,
attacked a barrel belonging to the captain, while Neb and I had my own
share to ourselves. It was a trying occupation, the odour far exceeding
in strength that of the Spice Islands. We stood it, however--for
what will not man endure for the sake of riches? Marble foresaw the
difficulties, and had once announced to the mates that they then would
“open on shares.” This had a solacing influence, and amid much mirth and
sundry grimaces, the work went on with tolerable rapidity. I observed,
however, that Talcott threw one or two subjects, that doubtless were
tougher than common, overboard, after very superficial examinations.
The first seven oysters I examined, contained nothing but seed pearl,
and not many of these. Neb opened, and I examined; and the latter
occupation was so little to my taste, that I was just on the point of
ordering the whole lot thrown overboard, when Neb handed me another.
This oyster contained nine beautiful pearls, of very uniform dimensions,
and each about as large as a good-sized pea. I dropped them into a bowl
of fresh water, whence they came out sweet, pearly, and lustrous. They
were of the sort known as the “white water,” which is the kind
most prized among Christian nations, doubtless on account of their
harmonizing so well with the skins of their women. No sooner was my
luck known, than it brought all the other “pearl fishermen” around me;
Marble, with his nostrils plugged with oakum, and a quid of tobacco in
his mouth, that was as large as a small potatoe.
“By George, Miles, that looks like business,” the captain exclaimed,
going back to his work, with renovated zeal, “though it is a calling fit
only for hogs and scavengers! Did I embark in it largely, I would keep
as many clerks as a bank. What do you suppose now, these nine chaps may
be worth?”
“Some fifty dollars, or thereabouts--you see, sir, they are quite
large--much larger than it is usual to see our women wear.”
The ninth of my oysters produced eleven pearls, and all about the size
and quality of the first. In a few minutes I had seventy-three just such
pearls, besides a quantity of seed pearl. Then followed a succession of
barren shells; a dozen not giving a pearl. The three that succeeded them
gave thirty-one more; and another yielded four pearls, each of which
was as large as a small cherry. After that, I got one that was almost
as large as a common hickory-nut, and six more of the size of the
cherry-sized pearls. In addition to these, I got in all, one hundred and
eighty-seven of the size of peas, besides a large handful of the seed
pearl. I afterwards ascertained, that the pearls I had thus obtained
were worth in the market about eighteen hundred dollars; as they were
far more remarkable for their beauty, than for their size.
Notwithstanding the oakum plugs, and the tobacco, and the great quantity
of shells his divers had found, for they had brought up something like
two hundred and fifty oysters in the course of the day, the party of the
captain found in all, but thirty-six pearls, the seed excepted; though
they obtained some beautiful specimens among the shells. From that
moment, Marble discontinued the trade, and I never heard him say
anything more on the subject of pursuing it. My own beauties were put
carefully away, in reserve for the time when I might delight the eyes
of certain of my female friends with them. I never intended to sell one,
but they were very precious to me on other accounts. As for the crew,
glad enough were they to be rid of such uncomfortable shipmates. As I
gazed on the spotless and lustrous pearls, and compared them with the
revolting tenements from which they had just been redeemed, I likened
them to the souls of the just escaping from their tenements of clay, to
enjoy hereafter an endless existence of purity.
In the meantime, the Pretty Poll continued to find her way along miles
and miles of the deserted track across the Pacific. Marble had once
belonged to a Baltimore clipper, and he sailed our craft probably much
better than she would have been sailed by Mons. Le Compte, though that
officer, as I afterwards learned, had distinguished himself in command
of a lugger-privateer, in the British Channel. Our progress was
generally from a hundred and fifty to two hundred and twenty miles in
twenty-four hours; and so it continued to be for the first ten days, or
the period, when, according to our own calculations, we ought to be near
the Crisis, had that vessel steered a course resembling our own. For
my own part, I neither wished nor expected to see the ship, until we
reached the coast of South America, when we might ascertain her position
by communicating with the shore. As for the _guarda-costas_, I knew we
could easily elude them, and there might be a small chance of regaining
the vessel, something like the way in which we had lost her. But
Marble's impatience, and the keenness with which he felt our disgrace,
would not make terms even with the elements; and I do believe, he would
have run alongside of the Crisis in a gale of wind, could he have come
up with her. The chance of our having sailed so far, however, on a line
so nearly resembling that of the chase as to bring us together, was so
very small, that few of us thought it worth our consideration.
On the morning of the eleventh day, the look-out we had kept on the
fore-top-sail-yard, sang out “Sail-ho!” Marble and myself were soon on
the yard, there being nothing visible from the deck. The upper
sails, top-gallant-sails, and royals of a ship were visible on our
weather-quarter, distant from fifteen to twenty miles. As we were now
in the track of whalers, of which there were a good many in that part of
the Pacific, I thought it was probable this was one; but Marble laughed
at the notion, asking if I had ever heard of a whaler's carrying royals
on her cruising ground. He affirmed it was the Crisis, heading the same
way we were ourselves, and which had only got to windward of us, by
keeping a better luff. We had calculated too much on the schooner's
weatherly qualities, and had allowed her to fall off more than was
necessary, in the night-watches.
The Pretty Poll was now jammed up on a wind, in the hope of closing
with the chase in the course of the night. But the wind had been growing
lighter and lighter for some hours, and by noon, though we had neared
the chase so much as to be able to see her from deck, there was every
prospect of its falling calm; after which, in the trades, it would
be surprising if we did not get a blow. To make the most of our time,
Marble determined to tack, when we had just got the chase a point off
our weather-bow. An hour after tacking, an object was seen adrift on the
ocean, and keeping away a little to close with it, it was ascertained to
be a whale-boat, adrift. The boat was American built, had a breaker of
water, the oars, and all the usual fittings in it; and the painter
being loose, it had probably been lost, when towing in the night, in
consequence of having been fastened by _three_ half-hitches.
The moment Marble ascertained the condition of this boat, he conceived
his plan of operations. The four Sandwich Islanders had been in whalers,
and he ordered them into the boat, put in some rum, and some food, gave
me his orders, got in himself, and pulled ahead, going off at five knots
the hour, leaving the schooner to follow at the rate of two. This was
about an hour before sunset; and by the time it was dark, the boat had
become a mere speck on the water, nearly half-way between us and the
ship, which was now some fifteen miles distant, heading always in the
same direction.
My orders had been very simple. They were, to stand on the same course,
until I saw a light from the boat, and then tack, so as to run on a
parallel line with the ship. The signal was made by Marble about nine
o'clock. It was immediately answered from the schooner. The light in the
boat was concealed from the ship, and our own was shown only for a few
seconds, the disappearance of Mr. Marble's telling us in that brief
space, that our answer was noted. I tacked immediately; and, taking
in the fore-sail, stood on the directed course. We had all foreseen a
change in the weather, and probably a thunder-squall. So far from its
giving Marble any uneasiness, he anticipated the blow with pleasure,
as he intended to lay the Crisis aboard in its height. He fancied that
success would then be the most certain. His whole concern was at not
being able to find the ship in the darkness; and it was to obviate this
difficulty that he undertook to pilot us up to her in the manner I have
just mentioned.
After getting round, a sharp look-out was kept for the light. We caught
another view of it, directly on our weather-beam. From this we inferred
that the ship had more wind than we felt; inasmuch as she had materially
altered her position, while we had not moved a mile since we tacked.
This was on the supposition that Marble would endeavour to follow the
movements of the ship. At ten, the tempest broke upon us with tropical
violence, and with a suddenness that took everybody by surprise. A
squall had been expected; but no one anticipated its approach for
several hours; and we had all looked for the return of the whale-boat,
ere that moment should come. But, come it did, when least expected; the
first puff throwing our little schooner down, in a way to convince us
the elements were in earnest. In fifteen minutes after the first blast
was felt, I had the schooner, under a reefed foresail, and with that
short canvass, there were instants, as she struggled up to the summit of
the waves, that it seemed as if she were about to fly out of the water.
My great concern, however, was for the boat, of which nothing could now
be seen. The orders left by Marble anticipated no such occurrence
as this tempest, and the concert between us was interrupted. It was
naturally inferred among us, in the schooner, that the boat would
endeavour to close, as soon as the danger was foreseen; and, as this
would probably be done, by running on a converging line, all our efforts
were directed to keeping the schooner astern of the other party, in
order that they might first reach the point of junction. In this manner
there _was_ a chance of Marble's finding the schooner, while there was
little of our finding the boat. It is true, we carried several lights;
but as soon as it began to rain, even a bonfire would not have been seen
at a hundred yards. The water poured down upon us, as if it fell from
spouts, occasionally ceasing, and then returning in streams.
I had then never passed so miserable a night; even that in which Smudge
and his fellows murdered Captain Williams and seized the ship, being
happiness in comparison. I loved Marble. Hardy, loose, in some respects,
and unnurtured as he was in others, the man had been steadily my friend.
He was a capital seaman; a sort of an instinctive navigator; true as the
needle to the flag, and as brave as a lion. Then, I knew he was in his
present strait on account of mortified feeling, and the rigid notions he
entertained of his duty to his owners. I think I do myself no more than
justice, when I say that I would gladly have exchanged places with him,
any time that night.
We held a consultation on the quarter-deck, and it was determined that
our only chance of picking up the boat, was by remaining as nearly as
possible, at the place where her crew must have last seen the schooner.
Marble had a right to expect this; and we did all that lay in our power
to effect the object; waring often, and gaining on our tacks what
we lost in coming round. In this manner we passed a painful and most
uncomfortable night; the winds howling about us a sort of requiem for
the dead, while we hardly knew when we were wallowing in the seas or
not, there being so much water that came down from the clouds, as nearly
to drown us on deck.
At last the light returned, and soon after the tempest broke, appearing
to have expended its fury. An hour after the sun had risen, we got the
trade-wind again, the sea became regular once more, and the schooner was
under all her canvass. Of course, every one of us officers was aloft,
some forward, some aft, to look out for the boat; but we did not see her
again. What was still more extraordinary, nothing could be seen of the
ship! We kept all that day cruising around the place, expecting to find
at least the boat; but without success.
My situation was now altogether novel to me. I had left home rather more
than a twelvemonth before, the third officer of the Crisis. From this
station, I had risen regularly to be her first officer; and now, by a
dire catastrophe, I found myself in the Pacific, solely charged with the
fortunes of my owners, and those of some forty human beings. And this,
too, before I was quite twenty years old.
Marble's scheme of attacking the ship had always seemed to me to be wild
and impracticable. This was while it was _his_ project, not my own. I
still entertained the same opinion, as regards the assault at sea; but
I had, from the first, regarded an attempt on the coast as a thing much
more likely to succeed. Then Emily, and her father, and the honour of
the flag, and the credit I might personally gain, had their influence;
and, at sunset, all hope of finding the boat being gone, I ordered sail
made on our course.
The loss of the whale-boat occurred when we were about two thousand
miles from the western coast of South America. We had a long road before
us, consequently; and, as I had doubted whether the ship we had seen
was the Crisis, it was necessary to be in motion, if anything was to be
effected with our old enemies. The reader may feel some desire to know
in what manner my succession to the command was received by the people.
No man could have been more implicitly obeyed. I was now six feet and an
inch in height, of a powerful and active frame, a good seaman, and had
the habit of command, through a twelvemonth's experience. The crew knew
me, having seen me tried, from the weather-earings down; and it is very
likely I possessed more of their confidence than I deserved. At all
events, I was as implicitly obeyed as if I had sailed from New York at
their head. Everybody regretted Marble; more, I think, than we regretted
poor Captain Williams, though it must have been on account of the manner
we saw him disappear, as it might be, from before our eyes; since, of
the two, I think the last was the most estimable man. Nevertheless,
Marble had his strong points, and they were points likely to take
with seamen; and they had particularly taken with us. As for the four
Sandwich Islanders, I do not know that they occupied any of our minds at
all. We had been accustomed to regard them as strange beings, who came
from that ocean to which they had thus suddenly returned.
Fifteen days after the loss of the whale-boat, we made the peaks of the
Andes, a very few degrees to the southward of the equator. From some
casual remarks made by the French, and which I had overheard, I had been
led to believe they intended to run for Guayaquil, or its vicinity;
and I aimed at reaching the coast near the same point. We had been in,
ourselves, at several bays and roadsteads, moreover, on this part of
the shore, on our way north; and I felt at home among them. We
had acquaintances, too, who could not fail to be of use to us; and
everything conspired to render this an advantageous land-fall.
On the evening of the twenty-ninth day after quitting the island, we
took the schooner into an open roadstead, where we had carried on some
extensive traffic in the ship, about eight months before, and where I
fancied we should still be recognised. As was expected, we had scarcely
anchored, before a Don Pedro Something, a fellow with a surprising
string of names, came off to us in a boat, in order to ascertain who we
were, and what we wanted. Perhaps it would be better to say, what we had
that _he_ wanted. I knew the man at a glance, having delivered to him,
myself, three boat-loads of goods, and received a small bag of doubloons
in exchange. A very few words, half-English, half-Spanish, served to
renew our acquaintance; and I gave our old friend to understand that I
was in search of the ship, from which I had been separated on some extra
duty. After beating the bush to discover all he could, the Don Pedro
gave me to understand that _a_ ship had gone in behind an island that
was only ten miles to the southward of us, that very afternoon; that he
had seen her himself, and had supposed she might be his old friend the
Crisis, until he saw the French ensign at her gaff. This was sufficient,
and I made inquiries for a pilot. A man qualified to carry us to the
place was found in one of the boatmen. As I feared the news of the
arrival of a schooner might be carried to the ship, much as we had
got our intelligence, no time was lost, but we were under-way by ten
o'clock. At midnight we entered the pass between the main and the
island; there I got into a boat, and pulled ahead, in order to
reconnoitre. I found the ship lying close under a high bluff, which made
a capital lee, and with every sign about her of tranquillity. Still, I
knew a vessel that was always in danger from the _guarda-costas_, and
which relied on the celerity of its movements for its safety, would have
a vigilant look-out. Accordingly, I took a cool and careful examination
of the ship's position, landing and ascending the bluff, in order to
do this at my ease. About two o'clock in the morning, I returned to the
schooner.
When I put my foot on the Polly's deck again, she was quite near the
point, or bluff, having set down towards it during my absence. All hands
were on deck, armed, and in readiness. Expectation had got to be so
keen, that we had a little difficulty in keeping the men from cheering;
but silence was preserved, and I communicated the result of my
observations in as few words as possible. The orders were then given,
and the schooner was brought under short sail, for the attack. We were
so near our side of the bluff, while the ship lay so near the other,
that my principal apprehension was of falling to leeward, which might
give the French time to muster, and recollect themselves. The canvass,
accordingly, was reduced to the fore-sail, though the jib, main-sail,
and top-sail were all loose, in readiness to be set, if wanted. The
plan was to run the ship aboard, on her starboard-bow, or off-side,
as respected the island; and to do this with as little of a shock as
possible.
When everything was ready, I went aft, stood by the man at the helm, and
ordered him to bear up. Neb placed himself just behind me. I knew it was
useless to interfere, and let the fellow do as he pleased. The pilot had
told me the water was deep, up to the rocks of the bluff; and we hugged
the land as close as possible, in rounding the point. At the next moment
the ship was in sight, distant less than a hundred fathoms. I saw we had
good way, and, three minutes later, I ordered the fore-sail brailed. At
the same instant I walked forward. So near were we, that the flapping of
the canvass was heard in the ship, and we got a hail. A mystified
answer followed, and then crash came our bows along those of the Crisis.
“Hurrah! for the old craft!” shouted our men, and aboard we tumbled in
a body. Our charge was like the plunge of a pack of hounds, as they leap
through a hedge.
The scene that followed was one of wild tumult. Some twenty pistols were
fired, and a good many hard blows were struck; but the surprise secured
us the victory. In less than three minutes, Talcott came to report to me
that our lads had complete possession of the deck, and that the French
asked for quarter. At first, the enemy supposed they had been seized by
a _guarda-costa_, for the impression had been general among them that we
intended to quit the island for Canton. Great was the astonishment
among them when the truth came to be known. I heard a great many
“_sacr-r-r-es!_” and certain other maledictions in low French, that it
is scarcely worth while to repeat.
Harris, one of the-Philadelphians, and the man who had got us into the
difficulty by falling asleep on his watch, was killed; and no less
than nine of our men, myself among the number, were hurt in this brisk
business. All the wounds, however, were slight; only three of the
injuries taking the parties off duty. As for the poor fellow who fell,
he owed his death to risking too much, in order to recover the ground he
had lost.
The French fared much worse than ourselves. Of those killed outright,
and those who died before morning, there were no less than sixteen; our
fellows having fired a volley into a group that was rushing on deck,
besides using their cutlasses with great severity for the first minute
or two. This was on the principle that the first blow was half the
battle. There were few wounded; most of those who fell being cut or
thrust at by several at the same time--a species of attack that left
little chance for escape. Poor Mons. Le Compte was found stone-dead at
the cabin-doors, having been shot in the forehead, just as he put his
foot on the deck. I heard his voice once in the fray, and feared it
boded no good; but the silence which succeeded was probably caused by
his just then receiving the fatal bullet. He was in his shirt.