OUR QUARTERS AT OU TROU.--MY ASTHMATIC COMPANION.--ILLNESS AND DEATH OF
CAPTAIN WILLIAMS.--THE MELANCHOLY BURIAL-GROUND.--TRY TO KILL TIME, BUT
IT KILLS MOST OF MY COMPANIONS.--STARTLING NEWS.--LIFE IN THE VILLAGE.--
OUR CONDITION BECOMES WORSE.--DEATH OF MORE OF MY COMPANIONS.--ORDERS
FOR OUR RELEASE ARRIVE.
Our mansion at Ou Trou consisted of three rooms, for which the
liberal-minded copper-coloured owner insisted on our paying nineteen
dollars a month. This was to serve as the habitation of twenty officers
ranking as lieutenants. The midshipmen had another house appropriated
to them of much the same character. Ours had out-houses connected with
it, rather more extensive than the building itself, and as it was
impossible for us all to stowaway in the house, especially in such a
climate as that of Saint Domingo, we came to the resolution of drawing
lots to determine who should occupy the outer buildings. An inspection
of a comfortable barn in England will give no idea of these unattractive
edifices. To increase their undesirableness as abodes for men, most of
them were already occupied by mules or horses or cows or donkeys. When
we gave signs of our intention to dispossess them, the owner asserted
that we had no power to do so; they were the first tenants, and had the
right of occupation in their favour.
"Now, gentlemen, are you all ready?" exclaimed the senior officer
present; "we must settle this important matter. Four persons in each
room is as many as they can possibly contain, the remainder must abide
by the lot which falls to them. Two in the stable where the old horse
now lives, two in the cow-shed, two in the tumble-down barn, and two in
the large stable, where the mules and donkeys have till lately held
their revels."
This last edifice was in tolerable repair, and, provided its four-legged
inhabitants were turned out, we considered would make a very tolerable
abode. One after the other of us drew lots. Lieutenant Manby of the
Minerva found himself the occupier of the shed with the old horse, and I
was beginning to hope that I might obtain a berth in the house, when, lo
and behold! I found that I was destined to share my abode with him. He
was, as everybody who knew him would agree, a first-rate excellent
fellow, so with regard to my human companion I had reason to consider
myself fortunate; but the old horse, with the thermometer often at a
hundred, was a considerable drawback to any comfort we might hope to
find in our abode. Our landlord probably suspected that we should turn
him out, so the very first night that we retired to our new abode the
fellow made his appearance and told us to remove him at our peril.
"But the horse may eat us!" urged Manby.
"More likely that you will eat the horse," answered the Frenchman, who
was a bit of a naturalist. "He is graminivorous; you are carnivorous.
He can't eat you, but you can him."
"He may bite, though!" I suggested.
"No, he has no teeth; he is too old for that," replied the Frenchman,
laughing.
"Ah! but his odour; that isn't pleasant to delicate olfactories," I
observed humbly.
"Oh, that's nothing when you are accustomed to it," replied the tyrant,
grinning from ear to ear. "You are too particular. Just let him take
his side of the building, and do you take the other, and you will be
completely at your ease."
As it was useless arguing with so pertinacious a disputant we were
compelled humbly to submit. The horse had one stall--we took possession
of the other. To make ourselves as comfortable as circumstances would
allow, we collected all the hay and straw and reeds, so as to form a
thick layer of dry materials between our bodies and the damp ground--for
damp it was, in spite of the heat of the climate. It was too late in
the day for us to attempt more, and, weary in mind and body, we climbed
up into our nests, and were soon asleep. I was awoke by the wheezing
and coughing of the asthmatic old horse, and, looking up, I saw what
appeared to me an extraordinary phenomenon. Suddenly the air around us
was filled with bright sparkles of light. Now they flashed on one side,
now on the other; now the whole space above our heads was illuminated;
then all was darkness; then the lights--thousands of them there appeared
to be--burst forth once again, more brilliantly than ever. I could not
help rousing up Manby, to ask him what he thought about the matter.
"The matter, Hurry!" he answered, yawning; "why, that our stable stands
in a particularly damp situation, and that the place is full of
fire-flies. You'll hear frogs croaking before long, and see great big
water-snakes crawling about, and reptiles of all sorts. The snakes,
they tell me, are harmless; but it is not pleasant to awake and find one
encircling one's neck. However, we shall soon get accustomed to them,
so people say, and that's a comfort. I don't know whether it is
pleasanter to be asleep or awake. Just now, when you roused me up, I
was dreaming that I was a horse, and that ugly copper-skinned landlord
of ours was trying to put a saddle on my back to take a long ride, but I
would not let him, and so he was thrashing me unmercifully. I dare say
he would treat his beast much in the same way if left to himself."
"Do not let us be talking of our dreams. Our waking thoughts are
sufficiently unpleasant," I observed.
After a time we managed to go to sleep again, but for some weeks
scarcely a night passed without our being disturbed by unusual noises or
by the visits of snakes or reptiles of some sort. Once we were invaded
by a whole army of land-crabs, which were passing across the island, and
it was some time before we could persuade them to turn aside from our
door. Many paid the penalty of their temerity with their lives, and
were cooked next morning for breakfast. By-the-bye, in the cooking
department we were at first sadly deficient, but from the instruction we
received from some of our French masters, we soon became great adepts in
the art, and were independent of any help. One reason why we did not
succeed at first was the scanty supply of food with which we were
furnished. The Frenchmen, however, showed us where we might go out into
the woods near the village, and gather vegetables and roots and nuts of
all sorts for ourselves. After that we were never in want of the bare
necessaries of life. We received an allowance from the French
Government for our subsistence. The lieutenants received three
shillings a day; the purser, master and surgeons only two; and the
midshipmen but one shilling; on which, poor fellows, it was scarcely
possible for them to exist. The captains were allowed more, I believe,
and had a house found them some little way from Ou Trou, where they were
able to live in somewhat less discomfort than we did. They used,
however, their best exertions to lessen the inconveniences we were
doomed to suffer; but the authorities paid but little attention to their
representations. The residence hired by the midshipmen was even smaller
and in a more dilapidated condition than ours, and from the smallness of
their allowance, considering that their appetites were fully as good as
ours, they were truly very badly off, poor fellows. We of the
lieutenant's rank accordingly consulted together, and agreed to have our
mess in common for them and for ourselves. The midshipmen gratefully
accepted our offer, and each of us threw his pay into a common stock and
appointed two caterers to make the necessary arrangements and to
contract with one of the copper-coloured French shopkeepers to supply us
with breakfast and dinner and to do our washing. These arrangements
being made, we flattered ourselves that all would go on swimmingly.
Certainly our provisions were better and more abundant than we had
expected; but we fancied that we had fallen in with a liberal-minded
man, who was anxious to treat us well. We had a dreary time of it,
however. Day after day passed away much in the same way. We had no
shooting or fishing--no musical instruments--so that we had not even
music to relieve the monotony of our existence. We had but few books
also; some of us read them; but, generally speaking, under the relaxing
influence of the climate, we felt very little inclined for any literary
pursuit. A few games were invented which served to kill time, but
killing time is not a pleasant or inspiriting occupation, especially
when a man reflects that time is sure to kill him in the end. We walked
about the neighbourhood of our dreary abode as far as we were allowed to
go, but we soon got weary of the negro huts, and the palm-trees and the
rice fields and the coffee plantations, and the cocoa-nuts and plantains
and bananas, and the monkeys and opossums and racoons, and parrots and
humming-birds. I dare say, if we had not been prisoners and compelled,
as it were, to see the wonderful productions of animal and vegetable
life, we should have been highly interested in them--at least, we ought
to have been. One or two of our surgeons, who had a little turn for
natural history, contrived to pass their time by collecting specimens,
and examining into the nature and habits of the animals which abounded
in the country; but naval officers, especially in those days, did not
trouble their heads much about such matters, and were somewhat inclined
to look down upon those who did. We talked of our prospects--they were
gloomy enough; we tried sometimes to sing, but for that we had not much
spirits; and so the days passed away. It would have been surprising,
even in a healthy climate, if disease had not attacked us under similar
circumstances. For some time it stood aloof, but it came at last, and
made ample amends for its delay by its violence. We had been about a
month at Ou Trou, when one day we were all seated at dinner in a sort of
courtyard, which being in shade served us as our mess-room and
drawing-room, unless the weather was bad, when we had to retire into our
hot, stifling little house. We were all in tolerably fair spirits that
day. O'Driscoll had been telling some of his good stories, more than
one song had been sung, and jokes were flying about, far more than was
usually the case. There were a few absentees in consequence of
sickness, and we heard also that Captain Williams, lately commanding the
Active, was ill. Poor man! he severely felt the loss of his ship,
though, having been compelled to yield to a vastly superior force, no
blame was attached to him. His spirits, it was said, had never risen
again since he was taken prisoner, and he was thus but ill able to
combat with the baneful effects of the climate and the irksomeness of
imprisonment. Just then, however, few of our party were thinking about
anything but the present moment and the unusually good dinner we had
been enjoying, when who should make his appearance near the head of the
table but Monsieur Roquion our purveyor, with a smiling countenance and
a long bill in his hand.
Our caterers inquired why he had come.
"For to present my litte _compte_ to you, gentilmen," he answered, for
he indulged occasionally in a few words of English, especially when he
wanted to say anything very disagreeable.
One of the caterers took the bill, and we saw them both looking over it
together, and pulling wonderfully long faces.
"What is the matter?" asked Delisle. "Anything wrong with the account?
Let us know the worst. It cannot be very bad, I hope."
"Only our excellent friend here has brought us in a charge of a hundred
dollars more than we expected to have to pay, or than we ought to pay,"
was the answer.
"Never mind; we'll contest it, and the fellow will have to go without
the money, I hope."
Monsieur Roquion understood the remark, for he grinned widely from ear
to ear.
"Go and get us a proper account, Master Yellow-face," said our chief
caterer. "This little bill of yours is too much by half."
I don't know if the worthy understood what was said, but he refused to
take back the account, and, after grinning at us a little longer, took
his departure.
We finished our dinner without much concern about Monsieur Roquion and
his bill; but we had unfortunately come to the end of our stock of wine
and tea, and a few other luxuries, and where to obtain them except from
Monsieur Roquion was a puzzle. The next morning we determined to try,
so we went to his shop to order what we wanted; but he instantly met us
with a hint that "_Le petit compte_ must first be settled."
We appealed to the commandant--a personage of whom I have not hitherto
spoken, because I had nothing to say in his favour, but very much to the
contrary. He replied that the demand was a just one. We suspected that
he was to come in for his share of the spoil. We at length got angry,
and said that we were cheated and would not pay. Thereat he grinned
broadly, and informed us that it was his duty to see justice done to
Monsieur Roquion, and that he should stop a portion of our allowances
till the debt was paid. We protested loudly against this decision; but
he only grinned the more, and with a bland smile informed us that might
made right, and that we might take what course we liked.
We could do nothing but submit; and the next pay-day we found that he
had determined to stop half our allowance. So we found ourselves
reduced to eighteen-pence a day, while the poor midshipmen had only
sixpence--a sum on which they could barely exist. We did our best to
help them out of our own pittance; but to all of us it was like falling
from affluence to penury. Misfortunes, it is said, never come alone.
Certainly at that time we experienced plenty of them. We were all
sitting together discussing what was best under our circumstances to be
done, when Delisle, who had gone to see Captain Williams, came back with
the report that he was much worse, and wished to see his son, who was a
midshipman, and had been living with the others. Delisle went for the
boy; and as he passed by, on his return, I saw that he looked especially
sad. That evening notice was brought us that Captain Williams was dead,
and his poor young midshipman son was left an orphan; and a prisoner in
that far-off pestiferous land. Delisle brought the boy back with him,
and with all the kindness of his heart endeavoured to console him.
In that climate decomposition follows death so rapidly that, almost
before the human form is cold, it is necessary to commit it to the
grave. We agreed, therefore, that early next morning we would all go
and pay the last respects to the late unfortunate captain of the Active.
Accordingly, snatching a hasty breakfast of dry bread and milk--for
that was all the food the present low state of our finances would allow
us to indulge in--we sallied forth, taking poor little Williams with us,
whom we intended should act as chief mourner. When we arrived at the
house, and went into the room where Delisle had last seen the body, it
was no longer there. We searched about, but nowhere could we see it.
In another room we found Captain Stott, late of the Minerva. His
health, like that of his brother captain, had given way, and he looked
very ill and wretched.
We told him that we had come to assist in burying poor Captain Williams.
"You have come, then, too late, gentlemen," he answered with a deep
sigh. "Two ill-conditioned negroes came this morning with a guard of
three or four soldiers, and informed me that they had come to remove the
body. I protested vehemently, and, had I possessed force, would have
prevented them, but it was in vain. The wretches, with taunts and
sneers at our being heretics and unworthy of Christian burial, carried
away the body of my friend and brother-officer, and, I conclude, have
thrown him into the ground in some out-of-the-way place."
Captain Stott was too ill, or he would have followed the barbarians in
spite of the soldiers. Two or three other people tried to do so, but
were driven back with angry threats, and at last gave up the attempt.
We were very indignant when we heard this, and resolved at once to go
and try and find out where the wretches had buried the captain. We
ascertained the direction they had taken and pursued them. We should
soon have been at fault in that trackless part of the country, but we
fell in with a little negro boy to whom I had been kind on more than one
occasion, and he told us that he had followed the men at a distance, and
undertook to show us the spot where our countryman had been buried. It
was not far-off, and when we reached it our indignation became greater
than ever. The authorities had evidently studied how they could most
insult and annoy us.
In a piece of waste ground where offal and rubbish was cast, and where
the bodies of the few malefactors who were ever brought to justice, as
well as those of dogs and other animals, were deposited, they had
ordered our poor friend to be interred. He had been placed there,
fastened up in a piece of canvas, without a coffin and without ceremony
of any sort. We stood with mournful countenances and with hearts full
of bitterness and indignation over the foul spot, discussing among
ourselves whether we ought not to dig up the body and carry it to the
churchyard of Ou Trou, there to bury it among others who at all events
had called themselves Christians. Our intentions must have been
suspected, for in a few minutes a guard of soldiers made their
appearance, and, threatening us with their pikes or halberds, made us
desist. We then determined to go at once to the commandant. He
received us with a look of haughty contempt. He remarked that our
countryman was a heretic--that the priests considered that he had died
out of the pale of their true Church like a dog, and that like a dog he
must be buried.
"Does the holy religion of Christ teach you thus to treat your enemies?"
exclaimed Delisle, indignantly. "We are Christians, as you call
yourselves, and have, as such, a right to Christian burial."
"I know nothing about that matter," answered the commandant. "The
priests say that you are not, that you are cut off from the only true
Church, and are thus condemned to everlasting punishment. This being
the case--and I am bound to believe it--what matters it where your
bodies are placed?"
Such was the tenor of the reply we received from an officer holding a
commission under the government of a nation which prided itself on being
the most enlightened and civilised in the world.
Though in France the outward signs of religion were still adhered to,
the _savants_ and _literati_ were already paving the way by their false
philosophy for that terrific outbreak of popular fury which deluged
their country in blood, and well-nigh rooted out all that was noble and
good and worthy in the land. At this time in Saint Domingo, and
probably in the other French dependencies, there was an ostentatious
show of religion which was sadly belied by the manners and customs of
the people. At all events, a person bearing his Britannic Majesty's
commission was entitled, as a prisoner of war according to the law of
nations, to all the respect due to his rank as an officer and a
gentleman.
We returned to our home, wondering who next among us would be carried
off to be put into that revolting receptacle of the dead. We had now
seriously to turn it in our minds how we should be able to exist. A
bright idea struck me--I would become a gardener. There was a
considerable portion of ground attached to our mansion. I had had some
little experience before in my life; others also knew something about
the art, and so we hoped that our united stock of knowledge would
produce us a good supply of vegetables. We had unfortunately but little
money to purchase tools, or seeds or plants, but we did not disdain to
turn beggars. We borrowed what tools we could, and manufactured spades
and hoes and rakes out of wood. They were not very neat, but they
answered our purpose. Seeds cost but very little; many were given us,
others we bought. The poor unsophisticated, ignorant blacks were very
kind-hearted, and gave us all they could spare. Thus our garden became
our greatest source of amusement, and at the same time a most profitable
employment.
Often for days together we had no other food but that which our garden
produced. We had yam, cassava, choco, ochro, tomatoes, Indian kale,
Lima beans, potatoes, peas, beans, calalue, beet-root, artichokes,
cucumbers, carrots, parsnips, radishes, celery and salads of all sorts;
nor must I forget the magnificent cabbage-trees some two hundred feet
high--not that we planted them, by-the-bye--or the fruits, the
cocoa-nut, plantain, banana, the alligator pear, the cashew, papaw,
custard apples, and others too numerous to mention; the recollection of
which even now makes my mouth water, as it did sometimes then, when we
saw but could not obtain them. If it had not been for our garden I
believe that we should one and all of us have succumbed to that fell
climate. In vain we endeavoured to learn how the war was going on. No
news was ever allowed to reach us but what was of the most disheartening
nature, and Monsieur Roquion always contrived to bring it with a grin on
his countenance which we knew meant mischief, though we could not make
up our minds to believe him or not. One day he came in with a smile on
his countenance, and shrugging his shoulders--
"Very sorry for you, as we do not here benefit by your loss," he
remarked, endeavouring to put on a look of perfect sincerity. "You
have, undoubtedly, heard the sad news. Your brave Admiral Keppel has
been defeated in the channel. Most of his ships have been sunk or
taken, and he himself has been captured and is a prisoner in France."
Days and days passed away and we heard no more, and though we used every
exertion to discover the truth, no one we met could contradict it. Next
we heard that the successful French fleet had pursued Admiral Byron on
his voyage to America, had brought him to action and completely
dispersed and destroyed his fleet. We daily talked the matter over
among ourselves. We could scarcely believe that the sun of England had
set so low, and yet what right had we to doubt the truth of what we
heard? We had ourselves been captured by the enemy, and might not
others have been equally unfortunate?
Then we heard that the French had blocked up Lord Howe in New York, and
that the American patriots had triumphed over the British army and were
everywhere successful. How earnestly we longed for letters which might
inform us of the truth! but our cunning captors took care that we should
not get them. Perhaps they themselves believed the reports they spread
among us. One thing we knew, that in spite of all their reverses, the
English were not likely to give in without a desperate and prolonged
struggle, and that, therefore, our captivity might be continued to an
indefinite period. I therefore considered if I could not make myself
more comfortable than I had hitherto been. I called Tom Rockets to my
councils. He, faithful fellow, had been constantly in attendance on me.
"To my mind, sir, the best thing to do would be to keep chickens," he
observed with a look of simple earnestness. "My old mother used to keep
them, and I helped her to feed them, and I know all their ways; and if
we could get a few we could keep them in this here stable of yours, sir,
and they would well-nigh feed themselves."
I thought Tom's proposal so good a one that I forthwith put his plan
into execution. I had made several friends among the negroes by
stopping and talking to them and exchanging a joke occasionally. Not
that what I said was always very comprehensible to them, nor were their
replies to me, but they understood my signs as I did theirs, so that we
got on very well.
"Now, Tom," said I, "we will go out and buy these same chickens. You
know a laying hen from an old cock, I suppose?"
"Lord love ye, yes, sir," was Tom's answer, with a grin. "And if so be
ye wants any of the rhino, I've saved three dollars, which will go far
to buy them; and you know, Mr Hurry, sir, it will be an honour and
pleasure to me if you will take them. I've no use for them, and may be,
if they stop burning in my pocket, I shall only drink them up some day."
I thought this too probable, but still I was unwilling to take the
honest, generous-hearted fellow's money. I had myself scraped together
a couple of dollars, with which I expected to be able to purchase a cock
and five or six fowls, and I thought that would be enough. Tom and I
accordingly set out on our expedition, with our dollars in our pockets.
Before long we reached the hut of an old negro and his wife, where I had
seen some good-looking fowls. Looking about, however, we saw none of
them. As we were going away old Quasho made his appearance, followed by
Quashie, his better half. In vain, however, did we tell them we wanted
some fowls; I had forgotten the French word, and they did not understand
us.
"I think as how I can make them know what we wants, sir," said Tom and
he began crowing away at the top of his voice; then he cackled most
lustily and began running about as a hen does before she begins to lay
an egg, and finally, having provided himself with a round stone, he
produced it as if he had just deposited it in a nest. Then he pulled
out one of his dollars and held it up before them. Quasho and Quashie
clapped their hands with delight at the significance of the action, and
away they scuttled into the woods, soon returning with a couple of hens.
"Bons, bons!" cried Tom, taking them, but not giving up the coin. Again
he crowed and again he cackled, and gave the old couple a shove to
signify that they were to go off and bring more fowls. It did not suit
them, it appeared, to comprehend what he wanted, but Tom was not to be
done, so at last Quasho exclaimed--
"Jiggigery, niggery, hop," or some words which so sounded, and away
scuttled the old lady, bringing back a couple more hens.
Tom, having secured them by the legs under his arm, allowing them to
peck away at his back, attempted the same manoeuvre, but the old people
put on such a look of dull stolidity that I was certain they would give
no more fowls for the dollar. I told him, therefore, to give up the
dollar, and we continued on our way to another hut, where, for another
dollar, we got the same number of fowls. Three dollars were thus
expended, and, with our newly-acquired farm produce, we returned in
triumph to my stable.
Manby was highly amused at the notion of my turning egg and chicken
merchant, which I told him it was my intention to do. In that country
food of all sorts for my fowls was easily procured, so I had no
difficulty in collecting an ample supply. This became one of my chief
occupations. Tom Rockets and I used to go out into the woods with bags,
and come back loaded with nuts and seeds and roots for my pets. The
consequence of their being thus amply supplied with provisions was that
they quickly took to laying eggs, and thus in a short time I had four or
five eggs every morning. Some of these Tom and I ate, and others we
sold or exchanged for meat. They, with the produce of our kitchen
garden, enabled us to be pretty well independent of the provisions
furnished us by the authorities. Thus, what I at first thought a
misfortune turned out to be a real benefit, because the necessity of
procuring food made me exert myself, and afforded me an occupation of
interest. I gave them all names, and I knew each of them, and they soon
learned to know me and to come at my call. Whichever I summoned came
flapping up to me, cackling or crowing as the case might be, whether
cock or hen. I was rather proud of the nickname which my messmates gave
me of "the farmer." Often, when they were almost starving after our
mess was broken up, I was able to supply myself and Tom with a
comfortable breakfast and dinner. Never, indeed, were dollars better
expended. I have already mentioned the various reports of disasters to
the British arms, both by sea and land, which reached us from time to
time. Soon after I got my fowls we were told, as an undoubted fact,
that Jersey and Guernsey had been taken by surprise, and that every man,
woman, and child in them had been destroyed on account of their loyalty
to England; but the most terrific and heart-rending news came at last.
It was that England herself had been invaded; that the enemy, having
gained a secure footing in the country, had won three or four pitched
battles, and had finally taken London, after a terrific resistance, when
half the population were slain. Probably, under other circumstances, we
should not have believed this last report unless it had been fully
authenticated, though, unguarded as the shores of England at that time
were, we knew that it was possible; but, dispirited and ill as many of
us were, we were fully prepared to give credence to any story even of a
less probable character. For two or three weeks we were left in the
most dreadful state of doubt and uncertainty as to whether England still
existed or not as an independent nation. Some of us fully believed that
liberty no longer was to be found except in the highlands of Scotland
and among the mountains of Wales.
The first gleam which banished these dreadful surmises was the
announcement which reached us on the 5th of November, that Captain
Philips, of the 60th Regiment, and Mr Rankin, a passenger in the
Minerva, were forthwith to be set at liberty. They received permission
to go at once to Jamaica under a flag of truce.
We could scarcely believe this information when we heard it, and it was
only when we saw them setting off with joyful countenances, bidding us
all farewell, that we were convinced of its truth. It also assured us
that the various accounts we had from time to time heard of the
disasters which had befallen the power of Great Britain were very
contrary to what was the case. The invasion of England had long been a
favourite scheme of the French, and I thought then, as I have since,
that some ambitious general or sovereign will find it one of the very
best cards he can possibly play to make the attempt for the purpose of
gaining supreme power in the country, or of securing the position he may
before have obtained.
Death was now busy among us. On the 20th of November Captain Stott's
steward died--a faithful fellow, who had willingly followed his master
into captivity. Near the village was a wide savannah--an extensive
open, level space, destitute of trees, and overgrown in most parts with
a rank vegetation, and dotted with pools of water, among which snakes
and venomous reptiles of all sorts delighted to roam. Here the poor man
was carried by a couple of blacks and cast into a hole they dug for the
purpose.
Very soon after this event, which I find recorded in my journal, I most
unexpectedly received a box containing linen and clothes, sent me by a
friend at Jamaica. In the pockets of some of the clothes I discovered a
packet of letters. Two of them were from home. What a thousand
thoughts and feelings and regrets did their contents conjure up! Many,
many months had passed away since I had heard from any of my relations
and friends in Old England, and I had begun almost to fancy that I was
forgotten, and should never receive any more letters. I read these over
and over again, and then I went in search of Delisle, that I might have
the pleasure of reading them to him. He and I were like brothers, and
like a brother he entered into all my feelings, and was almost as much
interested in the contents of my letters as I was myself. One of them
was from my sister Lucy--a sweet, good, pretty girl. I described her to
him, and, poor fellow, from my portrait, (I am sure it was not
overdrawn, though), he fell in love with her. He was ever afterwards
talking of her, and constantly asking to see her letters, and I agreed
to introduce him when we got home, whenever that might be, and he
promised, if she would have him, to marry her. So it was settled
between us. No one will find fault with him or me for what we did.
I must not forget another important letter from the friend who sent the
box. In it he told me that the admiral had most kindly kept a vacancy
open for me as a lieutenant on board the Ostrich, but at last, when he
could not arrange my exchange, he had been reluctantly compelled to fill
it up. This, of course, added to my annoyance at having been made
prisoner. The parcel of clothes was very valuable, for I found that
they would fetch a high price in the place, and as in that warm climate
a very small supply was sufficient, I resolved on selling the greater
portion of them. This I forthwith did, at a price which enabled me to
pay all my debts at the hucksters' shops, and gave me a good sum
besides. I thought that it would have been inexhaustible, and
accordingly feasted sumptuously for several weeks, and entertained my
friends freely in my stable, or rather in front of it, where, under the
shade of a grove of cocoa-nut trees, I used to spread my board.
On the 2nd of December, Mr Camel, who had been purser of the Active,
and the son of Captain Williams, were sent to Jamaica on their parole in
a cartel, but no one else of our party was allowed to leave the place.
Reports had just been going about to the effect that we were all to be
forthwith exchanged, and therefore, when we found that they were false,
an overpowering despondency sprung up among us. To increase the misery
of our condition, a report reached the commandant, invented by some
malicious person, or perhaps by the authorities themselves, to increase
the harsh treatment to which we were subjected, to the effect that we
had formed a plot to set fire to the village, and that, taking advantage
of the confusion thus created, we intended endeavouring to make our way
to the sea, and then to seize some small vessel and escape in her to
Jamaica. It was not likely that a number of officers who had given
their parole to remain quiet would be guilty of an act so dishonourable
as to endeavour to escape. It was, however, believed, and we were in
consequence even more severely treated than before. I say believed, but
I should be more correct if I said that the authorities pretended to
believe it. We had now a guard constantly set over us, and whenever we
went out we were narrowly watched. The food with which we were
furnished was worse than ever, and when we complained of the purveyors
or hucksters the commandant replied that he could not interfere, and
that we must take what was offered us, and be thankful that it was no
worse. Often many of our poor fellows had not the bare necessaries of
life, and it was only by great exertion that I was able to procure them,
as I have described, for myself and a few of my more intimate friends.
I had not supposed that so degenerate a race of Frenchmen existed, for
when they saw us all rapidly sickening and advancing towards the grave,
instead of relaxing their system of tyranny, they only increased their
ill-treatment, and made us believe that they really wished to put us to
death by inches.
On the 4th, poor young Bruce, a midshipman of the Minerva, died, and was
buried in the savannah among many of our countrymen who had already
fallen victims to disease. Captain Stott, we heard, was sinking fast,
and on the 15th he too succumbed to sickness and, I truly believe, a
broken heart. Some of his friends attended him to the last, and a large
body of us went up to keep guard, to prevent his body being carried
away, as had been the case with Captain Williams.
As soon as he was dead, we lieutenants carried him to our own house and
in the morning we sent a deputation to the commandant, saying, that as
Captain Stott was one of the oldest officers in his Majesty's service,
we considered that he ought to be buried with as much form and ceremony
as circumstances would allow in the public cemetery of the place. Our
request was, however, peremptorily refused. We all of us, accordingly,
assembled in our uniforms, and bore the body of the old captain to the
savannah, where, at a lonely spot, we dug a grave with such implements
as we possessed, and, prayers being said, deposited him in it near his
midshipman and steward.
There they rest, in that scarcely known locality, free from that trouble
and care which has followed many of those who attended them to their
graves. Some of those were, however, soon to be laid to rest alongside
them. Perhaps it was through some feeling of humanity that, a few days
afterwards, the son and nephew of Captain Stott--two little fellows
scarcely more than ten years old--were allowed to go to Jamaica under
charge of Mr Varmes, purser of the Minerva. Bartholomew, one of the
lieutenants of the same ship, was very ill of the fever. He had
scarcely been able to creep to the burial of his late commander, but
still he had some hopes of recovery. Our medical man had very little
experience of the nature of the fell disease which was attacking us, so
that those taken ill had but a small chance of getting well.
I was sitting one day by the side of poor Bartholomew, endeavouring to
afford him what consolation I could. Alas! with regard to his worldly
prospects there was little I could offer. I tried to point to higher
things--to the world to come. Unfortunately men do not think enough of
that till they are on its very threshold. He was expressing a hope that
he should get better, and I entertained the same; suddenly the door of
the room was thrown open, and Adams, another of the Minerva's
lieutenants, rushed into the room with an animated countenance--
"Cheer up, Bartie, old fellow!" he exclaimed. "An order has just
arrived for our release. I have seen it, and we are to set off at once
for Jamaica."
"Hurrah!" exclaimed the other lieutenant, lifting himself up in his bed.
"Then I shall not have to leave my bones in this horrid hole. Hurrah!
On, my fine fellows, on!"
He waved his hand above his head as if he had his sword in it, and was
leading a party of boarders. I heard a rattling sound. I looked at his
countenance. An awful change had come over it. Before I could even
support him he fell back in his bed and was dead. Adams and I stood for
a moment like persons petrified, so sudden and shocking was the event.
We bore him at sunset to our field of the dead in the savannah, and
there the hands of his friends and brother-officers laid him beside the
grave of his late captain. Adams, however, got away and reached Jamaica
in safety. Thus ended, in gloom and almost hopeless despondency, that,
to us prisoners, ever memorable year of 1778. For what we could tell to
the contrary then, we might have to remain till peace was restored, or
till England succumbed to the enemies gathering round her.
Proud of our country as we were, and confident of the bravery of her
sons, what had we to hope for? Although at sea the ancient supremacy of
our flag had been ably upheld, on shore, either from want of good
generals or from our pernicious military system--perhaps from both
causes combined--no brilliancy had been shed on the British arms;
indeed, we only heard of defeats, ill-conducted expeditions, and
disasters of all sorts, which often made our hearts sink to the very
depths of despondency.