CHAPTER X.

Captain Levee and I engage with the French Privateer--We

come off victorious--My revenge against the French

Lady--We take our Prize to Liverpool.

The wind was light, and we did not gain the mouth of the river till

near sun-down, when the pilot left us; and as soon as we were three

miles in the offing, I hauled down the flag of truce in the sight of

the French privateer, who was following us close, and was not more

than four miles from us. To avoid mistake, I had agreed with Captain

Levee that should I be coming out after dark, I would carry a light at

the peak, and this light I now hoisted. It enabled the French

privateer to follow me, and appeared only as a mark of contempt

towards him. I stood on in the direction where I was to find Captain

Levee, and could make out the Frenchman following me, and gradually

nearing me. As it became dark I made more sail to keep him further off

till I had joined the Arrow, but the light at my peak pointed out to

him where I was. All this seemed a mystery to my officers and men,

until having run out about four leagues, I desired them to keep a

sharp look-out for the Arrow.

About half-past eight o'clock we perceived her lying-to; she had

furled her sails after dark, as usual. The light I bore told her who I

was, and I ran close to her, and, hailing Captain Levee, desired him

to prepare for action, and that I would come on board to speak to him.

This, of course, created a great bustle on board of the Arrow, and I

hastened on board that they might not show any lights. I then informed

Captain Levee of all that had passed, and that the Frenchman was not

more than five miles from us. We agreed that I should still keep up

the light, and bear away a little to draw the Frenchman to leeward of

the port, and also to leeward of the Arrow;--that the Arrow should

lower her sails again, so as not to be perceived until I had drawn the

Frenchman past him, and that then I should commence the action under

sail, and fight till the Arrow came up to my assistance. This being

arranged, I hastened on board of my schooner, and keeping away four

points, I waited for the coming up of my antagonist. In half an hour

we could perceive him through the gloom, not more than a mile from us,

under all sail, standing steadily for the light which we carried at

our peak.

As I had already discovered that my little schooner sailed faster than

my opponent, I allowed her to come up within a quarter of a mile of

me, when I rounded to; and desiring my men to aim at his rigging, so

as to dismantle him, poured in my broadside of grape and langridge,

and then shifted my helm and resumed my course, putting more sail on,

so as to increase my distance to what it was before. This manoeuvre I

executed three times with success, and I had the satisfaction of

perceiving that his foretop-mast was shot away; but when I rounded-to

the fourth time, he did the same, and we exchanged broadsides. The

effect of his superior artillery was evident, for my rigging and sails

were much damaged; happily nothing so serious as to impede our speed,

and I again put before the breeze as before, and increased my distance

previous to again rounding-to; for, as the water was very smooth, I

knew that if I was crippled she would lay me by the board immediately,

and I might be taken and hanged before the Arrow could come up to my

assistance. I therefore continued a running fight at such a distance

as rendered me less liable to suffer from his guns.

It is true that this distance made my guns even more ineffective, but

I was decoying my Frenchman off from the land, and placing the Arrow

between him and his port, so that his return would be intercepted.

This continued for about an hour, when I perceived that the Frenchman

had got up a new foretop-mast, and had set the sail upon it. He now

ran out his bow-chasers, and continued to fire upon me with them

alone, not choosing to lose ground by rounding-to, to give me a

broadside; and as his canvas was all out, and I was occasionally

rounding-to to dismantle him, we retained much the same distance from

one another. At last a shot from his bow-chaser struck off the head of

my mainmast, and my gaff came down.

This was serious. We hastened to reef the mainsail, and hoist it up

again upon the remainder of the mast, but having no gaff-topsail, our

speed was necessarily decreased, and the enemy appeared to be

gradually closing with us. I looked out for the Arrow, but could

perceive no signs of her; indeed it was too dark to see farther than

half a mile. Finding that on the point of sailing we were on I had no

chance, I determined to alter my course, and put my schooner right

before the wind, so that I might set the square mainsail, which would

give time for the Arrow to arrive; indeed at this time I was in a

state of great anxiety. However, I had made up my mind not to be taken

alive, and to sell my life as dearly as I could.

When the enemy perceived that we had put before the wind, he did the

same, and as we were about half a mile from each other, we continued

to exchange broadsides as we ran, she gradually nearing us so as to

make her heavy artillery more effective. This portion of the contest

continued for an hour, during which my little schooner had received

much injury, and we were constantly repairing damages. At last, much

to my delight, the day began to dawn, and I then discovered the Arrow

about a mile and a half from us, right astern, under a press of sail.

I pointed her out to my officers and men, who were inspired with fresh

courage at the sight. The enemy also perceived her, and appeared

determined to bring the combat to an issue previous to her coming up,

and I feared that, at all events, I might swing at the yard-arm, let

the issue of the coming combat be what it might. She neared, steering

a course so as to cut me off, and I continued to pour in my broadsides

to cripple her if possible, as she did not now fire, but ran steadily

for me, and my chances were bad.

Anxious that the Arrow should close as soon as possible, I hauled

down my square mainsail, that we might not run from her, and prepared

for an obstinate resistance if boarded. At last the Frenchman was

within a cable's length, and at this critical moment the Arrow was

about a mile to windward. We poured in our last broadside, and

hastened to seize our pikes and cutlasses to repel the boarders, when

to my satisfaction I found that one of our shot had cut his gaff in

two. I immediately rounded to the wind; and as my antagonist was

within pistol-shot of me, with her men all ready for the leap on

board, I put my helm down, went round in stays, and crossed her so

near to windward that you might have thrown a biscuit on board.

This manoeuvre prevented his boarding, and I may say saved my life,

for his gaff being shot away, he could not heave in stays to follow

me, but was obliged to wear round after me, which increased his

distance at least a cable's length to leeward. A furious broadside,

however, which he poured in, crippled me altogether. Every thing came

running down upon the decks, and I was left a complete wreck; but I

was to windward of him, and although he might sink me, he could not

board or take possession until he had refitted his after-sail.

But now his time was come. A fresh antagonist, with equal weight of

metal, was close to him, and he had to decide whether he would fight

or run. Whether he conceived that running was useless, which it

certainly was, or was determined to take us both or die, I know not,

certain it is that he did not put his vessel before the wind, but

waited with determination the coming up of the Arrow. Captain Levee

passed under the Frenchman's stern, raking him with a broadside that

almost unrigged him, and then engaged him to leeward, so as to cut off

all chance of his escape.

The Frenchman returned the fire with spirit, and I took my men from my

guns that we might set some sail upon the vessel, for after the Arrow

commenced her fire no further notice was taken of me by the Frenchman.

After a contest well maintained for half an hour, the mainmast of the

Frenchman went by the board, and this almost settled the question, as

he could not keep his vessel to the wind, and consequently she fell

off, and received a raking fire from the Arrow. At last her bowsprit

was between the main and fore rigging of the Arrow, and her decks

were swept by the Arrow's raking fire. I had got some sail up forward,

and was anxious to be at the close of the action. I perceived that the

Frenchman was attempting to board the lugger, and was pouring all his

people on the forecastle, and I therefore edged down to him that I

might, with my people, board him on the quarter, which would place

him, as we say, between two fires. The conflict was at its highest;

the French attempting and the Arrow's crew repelling them, when I laid

my schooner on her quarter, and leaped on board of her with my few

remaining men. The Frenchmen turned to repel my attack, and thus

weakened their party opposed to the Arrow's men; the consequence was,

that they were first beaten back, and then boarded by Captain Levee

and his crew.

As soon as I had gained the deck of the Frenchman, I thought of

nothing but to single out the French captain. At first I could not see

him, but as his crew retreated from Captain Levee and his men, I

perceived him, pale and exhausted, but still attempting to rally them.

As my object was to take him alive, I rushed in advance at him,

wrestled, and threw him on his back on the deck. There I held him,

while the combatants fighting and retreating, tumbled over us one

after another, and bruised us severely with their weight. At last the

French were beaten below, and I had time to breathe; calling to two of

my men, I desired them to take charge of the French captain, and as

they valued their lives, not to let him escape, or destroy himself,

but to take him into our vessel and guard him carefully in my cabin.

Having done this, I went to Captain Levee, and we embraced.

"You did not come a minute too soon," I said, wiping the blood from my

face.

"No, indeed; and but for your clever manoeuvre, you would have been

beaten. Your vessel is a mere nutshell compared to this;--you did

well, more than well, to maintain the combat so long. Have you lost

many men?"

"We had ten sent below before we boarded; what may have followed since

I do not know. I have the French captain safe in my cabin."

"I saw the men hand him over:--well, now to repair damages, and then

I will tell you what you shall do. I must send on board and help you;

the Arrow has not suffered much considering, and I can spare the men.

As soon as we have cleared up the decks a little, we will breakfast

together, and talk the matter over."

It required two hours before we could clear the decks of our vessels,

for we had separated, and the Arrow had taken charge of the prize.

Before I took the boat to go on board the Arrow, I went down into my

cabin, where the French captain lay bound and watched by two of the

men.

"You are prepared to pay the penalty agreed upon, Monsieur?" said I.

"I am, Sir," he replied. "I now understand what you meant when you

said that I should meet with my match. I have no one to blame but

myself. I urged you to the conditions, expecting an easy and certain

conquest with my superior vessel. I have fallen into my own net, and

there's an end of the matter--except that when things go wrong, a

woman is certain to be at the bottom of it."

"I am aware, Sir," I replied, "that your wife instigated you to act as

you did, or you would never have so behaved. In attempting to revenge

the death of one husband, she has lost two."

"_C'est vrai_," replied the Frenchman, composedly, and I then quitted

the cabin, and went on board of the Arrow.

"Well, Elrington," said Captain Levee, "what do you intend to do with

the French captain? Is he to pay the forfeit, and swing at the

yard-arm?"

"I don't like hanging a man, especially a brave man, in cold blood," I

replied. "It was all his wife's doing, and he has confessed as much."

"He would certainly have hanged you," replied Levee.

"Yes, that I believe; but it would have been that he might have a

quiet life at home--not from any resentment against me. Now I have no

feeling of that kind to actuate me."

"What will you do, then?"

"Not hang him, certainly; and yet I should like to punish her."

"She deserves it," replied Captain Levee. "Now, Elrington, will you

approve of my suggestion?"

"Let me hear it."

"It is this: they do not know that I have assisted in taking the

privateer, as they have no idea that I am here. As soon as we have

refitted her and your vessel, I will remain where I am. You shall run

into the mouth of the Garonne, with your colours flying, and the

English Jack over the French flag on board of the prize. This will

lead them to suppose that you have taken the vessel without

assistance. When just out of gun-shot, heave-to, fire a gun, and then

swing an effigy to the yard-arm, and remain there, to make them

suppose that you have hung the French captain. At nightfall you can

make sail and rejoin me. That will punish her, and annoy them

generally."

"I will do so; it is an excellent device, and she will never know the

truth for a long time to come."

We remained all that day refitting; in the evening I made sail, in

company with the French schooner, which was manned by Captain Levee,

and stood in shore. At break of the following day I ran in, standing

for the harbour, without my colours being hoisted, and then it

occurred to me that I would make their disappointment greater, by

allowing them first to imagine that the victory was theirs; so, when

about six miles off, I hoisted French colours on the French schooner,

and French colours over English on board of my own.

I continued to stand on till within two miles and a half of the

batteries, and could see crowds flocking down to witness the supposed

triumphant arrival of their privateer into port; when of a sudden I

hauled my wind, hove-to, brailed up my sails, and changed the colours,

firing a gun in bravado. Allowing them half an hour to comment upon

this disappointment, I then fired another gun, and hoisted up to the

yard-arm the figure of a man, composed of clothes stuffed with hay,

made to represent the French captain; and having so done, I remained

during the whole forenoon, with my sails brailed up, that they might

have a clear view of the hanging figure. At last we perceived a large

boat, with a flag of truce coming out of the river. I remained where I

was, and allowing it to come alongside, I perceived in it the French

officer, who had pledged himself to give the conditions of the combat

to the lady; and seated by him was the French captain's wife, with her

head sunk down on her knees, and her face buried in her handkerchief.

I saluted the officer as he came on the deck. He returned my bow, and

then said, "Sir, the fortune of war has proved in your favour, and I

perceive that the conditions of the issue of the combat have been

adhered to on your side. Against that I have not a word to say, as my

friend would have as rigidly adhered to them. But, Sir, we war not

with the dead, and I have come off at the request of his miserable

wife, to beg that you will, now that your revenge is satisfied,

deliver up to her her husband's body, that it may receive the rites of

the Church, and Christian burial. You surely, as a brave man, will not

deny this small favour to a woman whom you have twice deprived of her

husband?"

"Sir," I replied, "on condition that his lady will step on board and

make the request herself, I will comply with it, but on no other

terms."

"It will be most painful, and her feelings might well have been spared

such a trial as to meet your face again, and make the request in

person; but as you insist upon it, I will make known your terms."

As he went into his boat I ran down into the cabin, and desired them

to cast loose the French captain, saying to him, "Sir, your wife is

here requesting your body, which she believes to be swinging at the

yard-arm, for I have put that trick into execution to punish her. I

never intended to take your life, and I shall now do more, I shall

give you not only life, but liberty--such shall be my revenge."

The French captain stared as if confounded, but made no reply. I then

went on deck, where I found the lady had been lifted up the side. They

led her to me, and she fell on her knees, but the effort was too much

for her, and she fainted away. I ordered her to be taken down into the

cabin, and, without any explanation, desired the French officer to

accompany her, not wishing to be present at the unexpected meeting. I

therefore remained on deck, and ordering the men to lower down the

effigy, they did so, laughing at the French seamen in the boat, who

for the first time perceived, for they had not looked up before, that

it was only a sham captain. I looked over the side, and told them that

the captain was alive and well, and would be in the boat very soon, at

which they were greatly rejoiced. In the mean time the explanation

took place in the cabin, and after a few minutes the French officer

came up, and expressed his satisfaction at what I had done.

"You have given a lesson, Sir, without being guilty of barbarity. Your

conduct has been noble."

He was soon followed by the French captain and his lady, who was now

all gratitude, and would have kissed my hands, but I prevented her,

and said, "Madam, at least now you have no occasion to hate me. If I

was so unfortunate, in self-defence, as to slay your first husband, I

have restored to you your second. Let us, then, part in amity."

The French captain squeezed my hand, but said nothing. I begged they

would take some refreshment, but they were too anxious to return and

undeceive their friends, and requested permission to go into the boat.

Of course I consented, and as the boat pulled away, the crew gave

three huzzas, as a compliment to us. When they were a mile in shore, I

hauled down the colours of both vessels, and made sail out to rejoin

Captain Levee, which I did in the evening, and then related all that

had passed.

He was much pleased with the result of the affair, and we then, having

consulted, considered it advisable to run back to Liverpool with the

prize, for she required so many hands to man her as to render us by no

means efficient vessels. Moreover, I have omitted to state that while

I was in the Garonne, the Arrow had taken two good prizes, which she

had manned and sent to Liverpool. We therefore made sail to the

northward, and in a week were again in port, with our prize. We found

that the other vessels had arrived safe, and the owner was much

pleased with the results of this short and eventful cruise.

The Privateer's-Man, One hundred Years Ago · 第 10 / 18 章