Two days later the regiment was paraded, but no order had been
received for their start, and their destination was still
uncertain. The officers stood in a group, awaiting the arrival of
the colonel, who entered, accompanied by Colonel Wauchop and
several other Irish officers. As there had been no notice of an
official inspection, there was a general feeling of surprise at
the appearance of the visitors. The colonel rode up to the group
of officers.
"Gentlemen," he said, "I must ask you all to accompany me to the
common room. I have news of importance to give you."
He and those with him dismounted, and, followed by the wondering
officers of the regiment, went into the large room where they
gathered in the evening.
"The news that I am about to give you is of an important and happy
nature. His Most Gracious Majesty has decided to send an
expedition to Scotland, where the whole country is ready to rise
in favour of our lawful king."
A cheer broke from his hearers.
"Many Scottish and Irish gentlemen," the colonel went on, "have
been selected to accompany it. Among them is my friend, Colonel
Wauchop, and the officers with him. The expedition will consist of
six thousand French troops. I regret to say that no Irish
regiments will accompany it."
A groan of disappointment followed this announcement.
"We must hope," the colonel said, "that Irish troops are not
employed, only because it is intended that another expedition will
sail to Ireland, in which case we may be sure that some of us will
have an opportunity of fighting, again, on our own side of the
water. Moreover, between France and Scotland there has long been a
close connection and friendship, and the employment of French
troops would, therefore, better suit the Scots than would be the
case with Irishmen. Another reason perhaps is, the King of France
does not like to spare his best troops, when he has sore need of
them in Flanders and Spain.
"However, a number of Irish officers will accompany the
expedition, for the purpose of drilling and commanding the new
levies, for which work they will be far better suited, by their
knowledge of English, than French officers would be. Therefore,
the various Irish regiments are all to furnish a certain number of
lieutenants. Generals Hamilton, Sheldon, Dorrington, and Lords
Galmoy and Fitzgerald, and our friend Colonel Wauchop will be in
command of the newly-raised force, having with them many Scotch
officers now in the service of France.
"The secret of the expedition has been well kept, but I have known
it for a fortnight, and have prepared a list of the fifteen
officers who are to go. I may say that, in order to avoid
partiality, I have, with one exception, selected them by lot.
Those who are to go will doubtless consider themselves fortunate.
Those who are to stay are still more lucky, if, as I hope, the
regiment will form part of a similar expedition sent to Ireland."
He then read out the list of the officers chosen. O'Sullivan and
O'Neil were both among them, and the name of Desmond Kennedy was
the last read out.
"You will, gentlemen, start in an hour's time, taking the northern
road through Montvidier and Arras. In each of these towns you will
be joined by officers from other regiments. Colonel Wauchop will
accompany you. I do not name the port from which you are to sail,
and no word must be said, by you, as to the route you are to
travel; but you can no doubt judge for yourselves, by the road
that you are taking, what port is your destination. The French
troops will be already there, and the fleet is all in readiness.
"You all have horses. You can each take your soldier servant with
you, but those who do so must either hire or purchase a horse for
him. All further details you will learn from Colonel Wauchop, and
the paymaster will have orders to issue two months' pay to each of
you, in advance. The distance will be about a hundred and fifty
miles, and you will perform it in five days."
Colonel Wauchop then addressed a few words to the officers, all of
whom were under the rank of captain.
"Gentlemen," he said, "you have an honourable task before you. For
years we have been waiting for the day when our swords might aid
to place our king upon the throne. At last it has come. I need not
say that the struggle will be a severe one, and that your courage
will be taxed to the utmost, but you have proved that in a score
of desperate fights.
"The task before you will need tact to no ordinary degree. The
Scotch are as peppery a race as the Irish are, and it will be
necessary in no way to hurt their feelings, or to excite among
them the smallest degree of discontent at being drilled and led by
men who are not of their own race.
"And now, as we have much to do before starting, I will leave you
to make your arrangements. The rendezvous for us all is in your
barrack yard, and at nine o'clock we shall be here."
The colonel now left the room, and the officers eagerly and
excitedly talked over the startling news that they had just heard.
The greater part of those who had been selected for the service
were delighted to go, while the others were equally pleased, at
the thought that they might shortly be fighting for King James on
the soil of Ireland.
"Sure, your honour, I wish it had been in the ould country instead
of Scotland," Mike said, when he heard the news.
"I cannot say that I agree with you, Mike. In Ireland, we should
find tens of thousands of brave hearts ready to join us, but they
are unarmed, undrilled, and undisciplined, and would be of
comparatively slight assistance to us against the English troops.
Defeat would bring down fresh persecutions, fresh confiscations,
and greater misery upon the land."
"Sure we would beat them, your honour."
"We might, Mike; but you must remember that we failed to do so,
even when the people were armed. No doubt we shall take a certain
amount of muskets and ammunition with us, but the power of England
is more assuredly fixed in Ireland now than it was then--the
influence of the old Irish families is broken, and even if we
armed all who joined us, it would be but an armed rabble and not
an army.
"In Scotland it is altogether different. The Scottish clans would
join us under their chiefs, to whom they give absolute obedience,
and they would turn out armed and ready for action. Thus, then, I
think that, allowing that Ireland is as loyal as Scotland, the
choice has been a wise one."
"Sure, you know best, your honour; but I will warrant that as soon
as Scotland rises, Ireland will be in a blaze from one end to the
other."
"That may well be, Mike; but there will then be a chance of
success, since the English forces will be fully occupied by our
descent in the north, which will threaten London, while Ireland
can be left to itself until the main question is settled."
"It is mighty lucky, your honour, that I should have stuck to the
horse we got when we rescued Miss Pointdexter."
"I am very glad, too, Mike, for otherwise I should have had to buy
one, and it is likely enough that I may want all the money I have,
before this campaign that we are starting upon is over."
O'Neil and O'Sullivan, at this moment, burst into the room.
"It is glorious that we three should all be going, Kennedy!" the
latter exclaimed. "It is just your luck, for you are the only
ensign named, while the regiment will be left with only four
lieutenants. Of course, I should be still better pleased if we
were going to Ireland. Still, for anything we know that expedition
may not come off, and, so that we are fighting for the king, it's
all one whether it is in Scotland or at home."
Having seen that all was ready for departure, Desmond went to the
colonel's quarters to say goodbye. Several of the officers who
were going were already there, and the colonel motioned to him to
stay until they had left. When they had done so, he said:
"Perhaps you guessed, Kennedy, that you were the one exception I
mentioned to the rule I adopted, of fixing by lot upon those who
were to go."
"No, indeed, sir," Desmond said, in surprise; "I thought it an
extraordinary piece of good fortune that I should be the only
ensign to go, when there were so many others all senior to me.
Indeed, I thought for a moment of saying that I would resign, in
favour of one who was older and more experienced than myself; but
then it struck me that if I did, some of the junior lieutenants
might feel themselves obliged to do the same, in favour of their
seniors."
"I should not, in any case, have permitted a change to be made. I
had decided that, in order to avoid jealousy, chance should decide
the matter. Indeed, you are the only ensign going with the
expedition. I informed Colonel Wauchop and General Hamilton of the
reason for which I specially included you.
"So long as it was supposed that the regiment was on the point of
marching to Spain, I considered that, if you took my advice and
did not leave the barracks after nightfall, no harm would befall
you. But the case is altered, now that it may remain here for some
time, for no doubt it will take part in any expedition sent to
Ireland. I have heard, within the past forty-eight hours, that the
friends of de Tulle have made very strong representations to the
king. They have urged that your proceedings, involving what they
call the murder of their kinsman, were of the nature of civil war;
and that, if his conduct had been reprehensible, it was for the
Baron de Pointdexter to lay the matter before His Majesty and ask
for redress.
"I hear, however, the king received their remonstrances coldly,
told them that de Tulle had brought his fate upon himself, that it
was the duty of every gentleman to endeavour to rescue a lady, so
feloniously carried off, and that he approved of the readiness and
energy with which you had taken steps to do so.
"On finding, then, that they have failed in their hope of having
you sent to one of the royal prisons, from which you would
probably never have come out alive, I have no doubt whatever that
these people will endeavour to take the matter into their own
hands, and that, with the means at their disposal, they will find
no difficulty in procuring persons who would undertake to
assassinate you. As I have said, if you had at once started for
the army, we might have looked after your safety until you crossed
the frontier, but here in Paris you would not be safe for an hour,
and could scarce venture between the barracks and your lodging,
unless under a strong guard. Under such circumstances, I consider
that I was justified in placing you on the list of the officers
who would accompany the expedition.
"I explained to General Hamilton and Colonel Wauchop, who both
happened to be with me, my reasons for wishing to include so young
an officer in the ranks of those selected for the service. The
officers heartily agreed with me, having, of course, heard the
story, or, at any rate, the main facts of your rescues of
Mademoiselle de Pointdexter."
"I am indeed greatly obliged to you, Colonel. I know that it is a
dangerous thing to incur the enmity of one of those powerful
families, and, though I should certainly have taken every
precaution in my power, I felt that I should be in constant danger
until we fairly embarked upon a campaign."
At nine o'clock the party started. It numbered some fifty
officers, Scotch and Irish. The baggage had started half an hour
before. It was to join the carts, with the baggage of the other
officers, outside the northern gates; and was under an escort of
dragoons, whose officer had powers given him to requisition fresh
horses at each town through which he passed, and so to push on to
the port with but two halts.
Once off, there was no longer any necessity for keeping their
destination a secret, and the officers were informed that, as they
had already guessed, Dunkirk was the harbour from which they were
to sail.
The journey was a pleasant one. All were in the highest spirits. A
short distance behind them marched a body of infantry, composed
entirely of noncommissioned officers, of whom O'Brien's regiment
furnished thirty. All were picked men, and, marching each day as
far as the party of officers rode, arrived at Dunkirk on the fifth
day after starting, and were at once embarked on the ships of war.
Colonel Wauchop and the officers of O'Brien's regiment were told
off to the Salisbury, which was a ship that had been taken from
the English, and was now loaded with military stores, arms, and
munitions for the use of those who were expected to join them on
landing. After seeing that the officers were all properly
accommodated, the colonel went ashore, and when he returned it was
at once seen, by the expression of his face, that something was
wrong.
"I have very bad news," he said. "King James, who arrived here two
days ago, has been taken suddenly ill, and until he is partially
recovered we cannot sail, for it is absolutely necessary that he
should be with us. This may mean the delay of a week or ten days,
and may defeat all our arrangements. The English Government have
spies here, as well as elsewhere; and their fleet has, for the
last week, been hovering off the coast. They may not have known
the purpose of the assembly of troops here, for this has been kept
strictly secret; and few even of the French officers of the
expedition knew, until they arrived here, for what reason the
regiments had been ordered to Dunkirk. But the arrival of King
James, of course, showed what was the intention, and, as soon as
the news reaches London, you may be sure that the English fleet
will be sent to intercept us."
It was, indeed, ten days before James was sufficiently recovered
to be embarked--a delay which probably cost him his kingdom, for
there can be no doubt that, on landing, he would have been joined
at once by all the great clans, and by no small proportion of the
able-bodied men of the country.
The consequences were so evident, to all engaged in the
expedition, that despondency took the place of the enthusiasm with
which they had embarked. The fact that the expedition, after being
so carefully and secretly prepared, should at its outset meet with
so serious a misfortune, was considered an omen of evil. At last,
however, James embarked, under a salute by the guns of the ships
of war; and as the sails were hoisted and the anchors weighed, the
spirits of all again rose.
They had sailed but a few miles when it became evident that the
Salisbury was the slowest ship in the fleet, for, although she had
every stitch of canvas set, she lagged behind the rest, and the
other vessels were obliged to lower some of their sails, in order
to allow her to keep up with them.
"I begin to think, Kennedy," O'Neil said, "that the good fortune
that has hitherto attended you has spent itself. O'Sullivan and I
both regarded it as a good omen that you should be the one ensign
selected to go with us, but this miserable delay at Dunkirk, and
the fact that we are on board the slowest tub in the fleet, seems
to show that Dame Fortune is no longer going to exercise herself
in your favour."
"It looks like it, indeed," Desmond agreed. "Still, I can't hold
myself responsible for either the king's illness, or for our being
allotted to this heavy-sailing craft; and, perhaps, even if
fortune should not favour me any longer, she will do something for
some of the others.
"She has always been favourable to Colonel Wauchop. He has been
through innumerable engagements. Though many times wounded, he has
never been seriously so, though scores of other officers have
fallen in enterprises in which he has taken part. In his case,
fortune has not been fickle, and, as he is the chief officer on
board, we must hope that she has not deserted him on this
occasion. I think there is a certain amount of luck in the fact
that we carry a large amount of guns and ammunition. If that had
not been the case, it is likely that, rather than delay, the
squadron would sail on at full speed, and have left us to follow
as best we might."
A constant watch was maintained at the masthead of the ship, but
no signs were seen of the English fleet, until, on the 23rd of
March, six days after sailing, they reached the mouth of the Firth
of Forth, and were congratulating themselves that they had brought
the voyage to a successful termination.
At daybreak next morning, however, just as they were about to
enter the estuary, they beheld the masts of a great fleet coming
out to meet them. This was the squadron of Sir George Byng, which
had for some days been on the coast, having been despatched as
soon as the news reached London of the gathering of ships and
troops at Dunkirk, and of the arrival of the Pretender there. The
French admiral at once signalled to all the ships to put about,
and he lay off until the English fleet were near enough to discern
its composition, which was far superior in force to his own.
Seeing the impossibility of landing the troops and stores, and the
slight chances of success in giving battle, he hoisted the signal
for all to make their way back to Dunkirk, keeping as much as
possible together, in order to defend themselves if overtaken, or
if intercepted by another hostile fleet.
In vain, James begged that a few boats might be given him, with
which to land with his chief followers. The French admiral replied
that his instructions would not justify him in doing so, and that
he had been ordered to specially protect the person of the young
king, whose safety was of the highest concern to his sovereign.
It was with the deepest feeling of disappointment, and depression,
that the Scotch and Irish officers heard that it was determined to
sail for Dunkirk again. Had the troops on board the ships been of
their own nationality, they would have ordered them to disobey the
admiral's commands, and to insist upon the fleet, if it succeeded
in evading the pursuit of the enemy, making another effort to
effect a landing. As, however, all the soldiers were French, with
the exception of the two or three hundred noncommissioned Irish
officers, they were powerless, and were half mad with rage and
grief.
"This looks bad for us," O'Sullivan said gravely to his two
friends. "I think that the French ships will outsail the English,
but there is little chance that this unwieldy craft will do so; in
which case, my friends, it is likely that we shall all see the
inside of an English prison, and that probably not a few of us
will be executed. The colonel should be safe, for he came over
with the Brigade after Limerick, and therefore by that treaty was
allowed to enter the service of France; but it is different with
the rest of us. We have all joined since those days, and are
therefore not covered by the treaty, and so are liable to be tried
as traitors."
O'Neil shrugged his shoulders.
"Well, we knew that when we joined," he said. "However, I hardly
think they are likely to proceed to such an extremity. Very many
of our Brigade have been taken prisoners, at Blenheim and other
places, and they have always had the same treatment as other
prisoners of war."
"That may be," O'Sullivan replied; "but this is a different
matter. It is not a question of war on foreign soil. We were going
to attack the throne of Anne, to promote civil war, and to
overthrow the Government. The attempt once made can be made again,
and you may be sure that the news of our sailing has created a
tremendous scare throughout the country. However, we are in for
it, and there is no use grumbling against fate. Already, you see,
the rest of the fleet are leaving us--faster, I think, than the
English fleet are gaining on us--and I trust they will get safely
away into Dunkirk.
"The fact that we so nearly succeeded will, perhaps, act as an
inducement to Louis to renew the expedition; and the loss of a
colonel, fifteen lieutenants, and thirty noncommissioned officers
will not seriously affect anyone except ourselves."
"However," Desmond put in, "I think that, after all, things may
not be as bad as you think. In the first place, our execution
would have an extremely bad effect in Scotland and Ireland, and
would add to the general hostility to the present Government. In
the next place, Louis has many English prisoners in his hands, and
might threaten reprisals. Lastly, there is always a chance of
escape."
"Your first two arguments are good, Kennedy," O'Neil said, "but I
cannot say as much for the last. The chances of escape from an
English prison must be small indeed."
"Nevertheless there must always be chances," Desmond said. "If you
will take my advice you will at once go below, and conceal your
money."
"Where are we going to conceal it?" O'Sullivan said. "You may be
sure that we shall be searched."
"Well, you took my advice, in changing the silver in which you
were paid into gold, though you lost pretty heavily by the
transaction. We did it to prevent lugging about a heavy bag of
silver. Now, it has its advantages. You could not hope to conceal
silver, but we may, at least, hide a few pieces of gold. Mike is a
handy fellow, and I have no doubt will be able to help us. At any
rate, let us go below and see what can be done."
Mike was summoned to the cabin.
"Now, Mike," Desmond said, "I suppose, in a campaign, a good many
of you carry what money you may have about you, and I dare say
some of you hide it so that, if you are taken prisoners, you may
have means of adding to your prison fare."
"We do, your honour; and, by the same token, I have a score of
crowns in between the soles of my boots. It does not always
succeed, for if your boots happen to be good, the chances are that
someone takes a fancy to them. Still, on the whole, that is the
best place there is, for they are sure to feel all the lining of
your clothes."
"Well, we want to hide some gold, Mike. In another hour we shall
have the English within shot of us, and, of course, fighting is
out of the question. Do you think that you will have time to hide
a dozen gold pieces in each of our boots?"
Mike looked doubtful.
"To do the thing properly, your honour, one should take off the
lower sole, take some leather out of the upper one, put some money
in, and then sew it up again; but it would take more than an hour
to do one pair."
He thought for a moment.
"The quickest way would be to get out the inside lining of the
sole, then to cut out enough leather for the money to lie in, then
to put in the lining again. It would not be soft walking on a
twenty-mile march, but I think, if I get the lining in tight, with
a few little nails to keep it from dropping out, if anyone takes
the trouble to turn the boots upside down, I might manage it."
"Well, let us commence at once, then, Mike. We have all got riding
boots, and can put them on before we are taken prisoners. Do you
take the linings out, as you say, and then we will help to cut out
some of the leather of the upper sole."
They were quickly at work. Mike cut out enough of the thin lining
to admit of a hole being made, large enough to hold ten louis in
each boot, and he and the two officers then set to work, to cut
out a sufficient depth of leather for the coins to lie side by
side. Half an hour sufficed for this.
The coins were put in. Mike had, in the meantime, obtained a
handful of pitch and melted it at the galley fire. This he ran in
over the gold, and then replaced the pieces of lining with hot
pitch.
"There, your honours," he said, when he had finished. "I call that
a neat job, and it would be hard, indeed, if the spalpeens find
that there is anything amiss. And, with these heavy boots, the
extra weight won't betray that there is anything hidden.
"Don't put them on till the last moment. Give them time to cool,
for if any of it oozes out, you will stick your stockings so tight
to it that you won't get your foot out without laving them
behind."
Leaving their high boots in the cabin, the three young men went on
deck. The leading vessel of the British fleet was not more than a
mile astern, while the French fleet was three miles ahead, having
gained more than a mile since the chase began. Mike had been given
four louis, which he said he could hide in his mouth.
Five minutes later, there was a puff of smoke from their pursuer's
bow. The ball struck the water close to them.
"Shall I hold on, Colonel?" the captain of the ship asked Colonel
Wauchop.
"There is no use in your doing so. That ship will be alongside in
an hour, and it might only cause a useless loss of life were we to
keep on. If she were alone I should say, let her come alongside,
and with your crew and our officers and men we might, if we had
luck, take her by boarding; but, with the whole fleet close behind
us, it would be madness to think of such a thing, as we have but
twelve guns, and those of small weight."
Accordingly, the topsails were run down, and the courses brailed
up, and the ship lay motionless till the English frigate came up.
Signals had been exchanged between the English vessels, and as
they came along six of them dropped boats, each with some twenty
men in it. While these rowed towards the prize, the fleet pressed
on, under all canvas, in pursuit of the French squadron.
The English officer in command of the boats received the swords of
the French officers, and the noncommissioned officers were all
sent below into the hold. All sail was at once got on to the
vessel again, and she followed in the wake of the fleet. The
English lieutenant then took the names of the prisoners.
"You are all Irish," he said, seriously. "I am sorry, gentlemen,
that this should be so, for I fear that it will go harder with you
than if you were French, when, of course, you would be merely
prisoners of war."
"We should be prisoners of war, now," Colonel Wauchop said. "We
are in the service of the King of France, and were but obeying his
orders, along with our French comrades."
"I hope they may see it in that light, in London," the officer
said courteously; "but I doubt whether, at the present moment,
they will take a calm view of the subject. However, I hope they
will do so, especially as no shot has been fired by you, and they
cannot charge you with resisting capture. At any rate, gentlemen,
I will do my best to make you comfortable while you are under my
charge. I must ask a few of you to shift your quarters, so as to
make room for me and the three officers with me; beyond that you
will continue, as before, to use the ship as passengers."
When darkness set in, the pursuit was discontinued. The French
fleet was fully ten miles ahead, and it was evident that there was
no chance, whatever, of overtaking it; while there was a risk of
its doubling back during the night, and again making its way
north. The greater part of the sails of the men-of-war were
therefore furled, while the frigates and corvettes made off, on
either hand, to establish themselves as sentries during the night,
and to give warning should the French fleet be seen returning. An
hour and a half after the pursuit had ceased, the Salisbury joined
the fleet, and the officer in command went on board the admiral's
ship, to report the number of prisoners taken and the nature of
her cargo.
The officers had, at his invitation, dined with him and his
officers in the cabin. All political topics had been avoided, and
no one who had looked in would have supposed that the majority of
those present were the prisoners of the others. The Irish
temperament quickly shakes off a feeling of depression, and the
meal was as lively as it had been during the voyage north.
The lieutenant, however, omitted no precaution. A dozen men kept
guard over the prisoners below, and as many more, with loaded
muskets, were always stationed on deck. The Irish officers saw
that, among many of the sailors, there was a strong feeling of
sympathy with them. The fleet had been largely recruited by
impressment; and by the handing over, to the naval authorities, of
numbers of men imprisoned for comparatively slight offences; and,
as was natural, these had but small feeling of kindness towards
the government who had so seized them; while many shared in the
feeling of loyalty towards the house of Stuart, which was still so
prevalent among the population.
At daybreak, the cruisers all returned. None had seen any signs of
the French squadron, and Sir George Byng, leaving the majority of
the fleet to maintain watch, sailed with his prize for Harwich.
Here the prisoners were handed over to the military authorities;
while the admiral started for London, in a post chaise, to carry
the news of the failure of the French to effect a landing, and of
their return to Dunkirk,--news that was received with exuberant
delight by the supporters of Government, and the commercial
portion of the population, who had been threatened by ruin. The
run upon the banks had been unprecedented, and although the House
of Commons had relaxed the regulations of the Bank of England, the
panic was so great that it could not have kept its doors open
another twelve hours.
The treatment of the prisoners was now very different from what it
had been on board ship. Not only were they confined to prison,
but, to their indignation, irons were placed on their legs, as if
they had been common malefactors. The only mitigation allowed to
them was that their servants were permitted to attend upon them.
Their clothes had been rigorously searched, and their boots taken
off, but no suspicions had been entertained that coin had been
hidden in those of Desmond and his friends.
Two days later an order was received from Government, and the
officers were marched up to town, ironed as they were, under a
strong guard, and were imprisoned at Newgate. Callaghan and the
other servants remained in prison at Harwich.
"Things are looking bad, Kennedy," O'Neil said dolefully, for the
three officers had, at their own request, been allotted a cell
together.
"They don't look very bright, but we must make allowance for the
awful fright that, as we hear, has been caused by the expedition.
Possibly, when they have got over the shock, things may be
better."
"I will never forgive them for putting irons on us," O'Sullivan
said passionately. "If they had shot us at once, it was, I
suppose, what we had a right to expect; but to be treated like
murderers, or ruffians of the worst kind, is too bad."
"Well, we were rid of the irons as soon as we got here. No doubt
these were only put on to prevent the possibility of any of us
escaping. I am sure, by their looks, that some of our escort would
willingly have aided us, only that it was impossible to do so;
and, knowing how large a number of persons would sympathize with
us, I cannot blame them so very much for taking steps to prevent
our escape."
"I never saw such a fellow as you for finding excuses for people,"
O'Sullivan said, almost angrily. "You look at things as calmly as
if they concerned other people, and not ourselves."
Kennedy smiled.
"If an opinion is to be worth anything, O'Sullivan, it must be an
impartial one; and it is best to look at the matter calmly, and to
form our plans, whatever they may be, as if they were intended to
be carried out by other people."
O'Sullivan laughed.
"My dear fellow, if you had not gone through those adventures, I
should have said that you had mistaken your vocation, and were cut
out for a philosopher rather than a soldier. However, although
your luck did not suffice to save the Salisbury from capture, we
must still hope that it has not altogether deserted you; and
anyhow, I am convinced that, if it be possible for anyone to
effect an escape from this dismal place, you are the man."
Newgate, in those days, stood across the street, and constituted
one of the entrances to the city. Its predecessor had been burnt,
in the great fire of 1666, and the new one was at this time less
than forty years old, and, though close and badly ventilated, had
not yet arrived at the stage of dirt and foulness which afterwards
brought about the death of numbers of prisoners confined there,
and in 1750 occasioned an outbreak of jail fever, which not only
swept away a large proportion of the prisoners, but infected the
court of the Old Bailey close to it, causing the death of the lord
mayor, several aldermen, a judge, many of the counsel and jurymen,
and of the public present at the trials.
The outward appearance of the building was handsome, but the cells
were, for the most part, small and ill ventilated.
"This place is disgraceful," O'Neil said. "There is barely room
for our three pallets. The air is close and unwholesome, now, but
in the heat of summer it must be awful. If their food is as vile
as their lodging, the lookout is bad, indeed."
"I fancy the cells in the French jails are no better," O'Sullivan
said. "No doubt, in the state prisons, high-born prisoners are
made fairly comfortable; but the ordinary prisoners and
malefactors, I have been told, suffer horribly. Thank goodness I
have never entered one; but even the barrack cells can scarcely be
called inviting."
"You are learning philosophy from Kennedy," O'Neil said, with a
laugh.
"I don't know that I shall feel philosophic, if we are served with
nothing but bread and water. However, the turnkey told us that,
until we have been tried and condemned, we are at liberty to get
our food from outside--certainly a mockery, in most cases,
considering that we all were relieved of any money found upon us,
when we arrived in Harwich. It is a comfort that we are, as he
said, to take our meals together, and the money we have in our
boots will alleviate our lot for some time. Probably, it will last
a good deal longer than we are likely to be here."
When they joined their companions, in the room in which they were
to dine, all were astonished at seeing an excellent dinner on the
table, with eight bottles of wine.
"Is this the way they treat prisoners here?" Colonel Wauchop asked
one of the jailers, of whom six remained present.
The man smiled.
"No, indeed. It has been sent in from a tavern outside, and with a
message that a like meal will be provided, as long as you are
here. One of us was sent across, to enquire as to the person who
had given the order. The landlord said that he was a stranger to
him, but that he had paid him a fortnight in advance, and would
call in and renew the order, at the end of that time."
"Well, gentlemen," the colonel said, "before we begin to eat, we
will drink the health of our unknown benefactor. Not only is the
gift a generous and expensive one, but it cannot be without danger
to the donor, for none but a strong adherent of King James would
have thought of thus relieving our necessities."
It was plain that the authorities suspected that some message
might have been sent in to the prisoners, concealed in the viands.
The bread had been cut up into small squares, the crust had been
lifted from two pasties, the meat had evidently been carefully
searched; and the turnkeys placed themselves round the table so
that they could narrowly watch every one of the prisoners, as they
ate, and notice any movement that would seem to indicate that they
had come across some pellet of paper or other substance.
Every day, the servants at the tavern brought in similar fare, and
this continued as long as the prisoners were in the jail; and it
was a matter of deep regret, to all, that they were never able to
discover the name of the person to whom they were so much
indebted.