Channel, during which we saw nothing except a few homeward-bound British
merchantmen--all of them armed and quite capable of taking care of
themselves--and a British line-of-battle ship, by which we were chased
for six hours, but which we had little difficulty in escaping by jamming
the schooner close upon a wind. The unsophisticated reader may perhaps
be inclined to wonder why we should have been chased by one of our own
men-o'-war; and why, being chased, we should have taken any trouble to
escape from her. The fact, however, was that the _Dolphin_ was
altogether too rakish-looking a craft to be mistaken for a plodding
merchantman, her long, low, beamy hull, taunt, tapering spars, and broad
spread of superbly-cut canvas proclaimed her a sea-rover as far as the
eye could distinguish her; and, as the ensign carried was at that time
but an indifferent guarantee of a vessel's nationality, it was the
imperative duty of our men-o'-war, when falling in with such a craft, to
make sure, if possible, that she was not an enemy and a danger to our
commerce. Our friend the two-decker was therefore quite justified in
her endeavour to get alongside us and obtain a sight of our papers; and
had we possessed any assurance that her delicate attentions would have
ended there, her people would have been quite welcome to come aboard us,
and overhaul the schooner and her papers to their heart's content. But,
unfortunately, we had no such assurance. There was, at the time of
which I am now writing, a very great difficulty in procuring men enough
to adequately man our ships of war, and there was therefore no
alternative left to the government but to resort to the process of
impressment, a process which naval officers were too often apt to adopt
with scant discrimination. In their anxiety to secure a full complement
for their ships they deemed themselves justified not only in pressing
men ashore, but even in boarding the merchantmen of their own nation
upon the high seas and impressing so many men out of them that instances
were by no means rare of traders being subsequently lost through being
thus made so short-handed that their crews were insufficient in number
and strength to successfully battle against bad weather. The crews of
vessels furnished with letters of marque were nominally protected from
impressment; but we were fully aware that the protection was only
nominal, and altogether insufficient; hence it came about that a British
privateer was always very much more anxious to escape from a man-o'-war
flying the colours of her own country than she was to avoid a ship
flying those of the enemy.
And now, to return to my story. On the fourth day after our abortive
adventure in Abervrach harbour the wind hauled round from the eastward,
and, heartily tired of and disgusted with our ill-luck, we gladly
squared away before it to seek a better fortune on the bosom of the
broad Atlantic. For a fortnight we stretched away to the southward and
westward, when we sighted and passed the lofty heights and precipitous
cliffs of Flores and Corvo, in the neighbourhood of which Captain Winter
determined to cruise for a week, it being customary for homeward-bound
ships from the southward to endeavour to make these islands and so check
their reckoning. The wind, meanwhile, had gone round, and was now
blowing a very moderate breeze from the southward, with a clear sky,
bright sunshine, and a pleasantly mild temperature.
We cruised for eight days off the Azores, sighting only three vessels
during the whole of that time; and as they were all British they were of
course of no use to us. Then, intensely disappointed at our continued
ill-luck, we hauled our wind and, with a freshening breeze from the
south-west, stretched away to the westward on the larboard tack, Captain
Winter having determined to look for better fortune in the West Indian
waters.
For the first two days after quitting the neighbourhood of the Azores we
made excellent progress; and then a steadily falling barometer,
accompanied by a lowering sky and a rapid increase in the strength of
the wind, warned us to prepare for bad weather. Up to this time we had
been carrying our topgallant-sail, flying-jib, and small gaff-topsail;
but with the steady freshening of the wind, the approach of night, and
the threatening aspect of the sky, the skipper deemed it prudent to stow
our light canvas and to take down a reef in the mainsail and topsail.
It was well that this precaution was taken; for during the night the
wind increased to the strength of a gale, with a very heavy, dangerous
sea; and when morning came it found us snugged down to the jib--with the
bonnet off,--reefed foresail, and close-reefed mainsail. It was at this
time looking very black and wild to windward; the sky all along the
south-western horizon being of a deep slaty, indigo hue, swept by swift-
flying streamers of dirty, whitish-grey cloud; while the leaden-grey
sea, scourged into a waste of steep, foam-capped ridges and deep,
seething, wind-furrowed valleys, had already risen to such a height as
to completely becalm our low canvas every time that the schooner settled
down into the trough. The time was evidently at hand when it would be
necessary for us to heave-to; the schooner was therefore got round upon
the starboard tack, with her head to the southward; and, as the
barometer was still falling, the hands were set to work to send down the
yards and house the topmasts while it was still possible to do so. The
task was a dangerous one; but we had plenty of strength, and, the men
working with a will, it was accomplished within an hour; and the
schooner was then ready, as we hoped, to face the worst that could
happen. By noon it was blowing so furiously, and the sea had increased
to such an extent, that the skipper determined not to risk the vessel
any longer by further attempting to sail her, and she was accordingly
hove-to under a close-reefed foresail, when everybody but the officer in
charge of the deck, and the man at the wheel, went below.
As the day wore on the weather grew worse, and by nightfall it was
blowing a perfect hurricane, the force of the wind being so great that,
even under the small rag of a close-reefed foresail, the schooner was
bowed down to her water-ways, and her lee scuppers were all afloat. Yet
the little craft was making splendid weather of it, riding the
mountainous seas as light and dry as a gull, looking well up into the
wind, and fore-reaching at the rate of fully three knots in the hour.
But it was a dreary and uncomfortable time for us all, the air being so
full of scud-water that it was like being exposed to a continuous
torrent of driving rain; despite our oil-skins and sou'-westers half an
hour on deck was sufficient to secure one a drenching to the skin, while
the spray, driven into one's face by the furious sweep of the hurricane,
cut and stung like the lash of a whip. The schooner, being but a small
craft, too, was extraordinarily lively; leaping and plunging, rolling
and pitching to such an extent and with so quick a motion that it was
quite impossible to keep one's footing without holding on to something;
while to secure a meal demanded a series of feats of dexterity that
would have turned a professional acrobat green with envy. And all this
discomfort was emphasised, as it were, by the yelling and hooting and
shrieking of the wind aloft, the roar of the angry sea, and the heavy,
perpetual swish of spray upon the deck.
It was about three bells in the first watch that night, when--I being in
charge of the deck, and the skipper keeping me company--a light was made
out upon our lee bow, quickly followed by another, and another, and
still another, until the whole of the horizon ahead was lighted up like
a town, there being probably over two hundred lights in sight. It was
evident that we were approaching a large concourse of ships; and in
about an hour's time we found ourselves driving into the very heart of
the fleet. The night was altogether too dark for us to be enabled to
make out who and what they were; but the skipper was of opinion that we
had encountered a large convoy, and as it was impossible to tell whether
they were friends or foes, he determined to wear the schooner round, as
soon as we could find room, and heave her to with her head to the
westward, like the rest of the fleet, when the morning would enable us
to ascertain the nationality of our neighbours and decide whether
anything was likely to be gained by keeping them company. At eight
bells, therefore, by which time we had passed right through the fleet,
we got the schooner round and waited impatiently until morning. There
was a good deal of firing of blank cartridge, throughout the night, as
also of signalling with coloured lanterns; but we could, of course, make
nothing of it, and took it simply to mean that the men-o'-war in charge
of the convoy were doing their best to keep the fleet from becoming
scattered during the continuance of the gale.
When morning dawned, and the light came struggling feebly through the
thick pall of murky, storm-torn vapour that overspread the sky, it
became apparent that the skipper's surmise as to the character of the
fleet had been correct: the _Dolphin_ being in the midst of some two
hundred and fifty sail of vessels of different rigs, from the stately
ship to the saucy schooner, in charge of two seventy-fours, a fifty-gun
ship, a frigate, and four eighteen-gun-brigs. The men-o'-war were all
snugged comfortably down, royal and topgallant yards on deck,
topgallant-masts struck, and not an ounce of unnecessary top-hamper
aloft; but most of the merchantmen had kept everything standing, even to
their royal-yards. There were a few, however--mostly the larger
craft,--who had sent down their top-hamper; and there were others--
notably a very fine, frigate-built ship--that had lost one or more of
their spars during the gale, and were now in great difficulties, with
the wreck thrashing about aloft and not only threatening the remaining
spars, but also the lives of the crew, who could be seen endeavouring to
cut the raffle adrift. That the convoy was British became apparent as
soon as the light grew strong enough to enable us to distinctly make out
our nearest neighbours.
It struck me that the men-o'-war's people were not keeping their eyes
quite so wide open as they might have done; for there were only four
other schooners beside ourselves in the whole fleet, and one would have
supposed that the presence of a fifth would instantly have been
noticed--especially when that fifth wore so very roguish an appearance
as the _Dolphin_,--yet throughout the whole of that day no effort was
made to ascertain our nationality, where we came from, whither we were
bound, or anything about us! Of course, under ordinary circumstances,
having ascertained that the convoy was British, and, therefore, of no
especial interest to us, we should have parted company by getting the
schooner round with her head to the southward. There was, however, one
circumstance that decided the skipper to keep company with the convoy a
little longer, and it was this: As has already been mentioned, there was
a very fine, frigate-built merchantman in the fleet, which, when morning
dawned, was seen to be in a situation of considerable difficulty, her
fore and mizzen-topmast and main-topgallant-mast being over the side,
having apparently been carried away during the night by the tremendous
rolling and pitching of the ship. And near her was an exceedingly
smart-looking brigantine, with main-topmast and fore topgallant-mast
housed. This vessel joined the convoy about daybreak and was now hove-
to under a close-reefed main trysail, and fore-topmast-staysail, which
ought to have enabled her to easily forge ahead and eat out to windward
of the disabled ship. And, as a matter of fact, she did so; yet somehow
she always seemed to drop back again into her old place, just to leeward
of the ship; and after observing her motions for some time, I became
impressed with the idea that this was the result of deliberate design,
rather than of accident. For something seemed to be constantly going
wrong with her trysail sheet, necessitating a temporary taking in of the
sail, during which she would pay off and go wallowing away to leeward
for a distance of three or four miles, when the sail would be reset, and
she would come creeping stealthily and imperceptibly up into somewhere
near her old berth again. And this was done so naturally that, had it
not occurred more than once, I do not know that I should have taken any
notice of it. To me, however, the circumstance wore a rather suspicious
appearance; and when I had mentioned it to the skipper he seemed
somewhat disposed to take my view that the craft, although apparently
British built, was in reality an enemy's privateer, with designs upon
the disabled ship as soon as a favourable opportunity should occur for
carrying them out. At all events there appeared to be enough
probability in the hypothesis to induce Captain Winter to remain in
company of the convoy, to watch the progress of events, instead of
wearing round and resuming our course to the southward.
The gale continued to blow all day with unabated fury, and the convoy,
of course, remained hove-to. But, as the hours wore on, the several
craft gradually became more scattered, the less weatherly vessels
steadily settling away to leeward, until, by the time that the dark,
gloomy day drew toward its close, the fleet was spread out over a
surface of ocean measuring, as nearly as one could judge, nearly or
quite twelve miles in every direction: those craft that had sustained
damage aloft naturally for the most part settling to leeward at a
greater rate than the rest, since they were unable to dispose their
canvas so advantageously as the others for the purpose of lying-to. The
frigate and gun-brigs were kept busy all day watching these stragglers,
urging them by signal, and the occasional firing of guns, to close with
the main body of the fleet, and generally playing the part of sheep-
dogs; while the crews of the lame ducks could be seen clearing away the
wreck of their broken spars, unbending their split sails and bending
others in place, and, in fact, doing their utmost to comply with the
orders of the men-o'-war. But, after all, their utmost was but little;
the merchantmen being altogether too lightly manned to be able to do
really effective work in the face of such a gale as was then blowing.
The brigantine that had excited our suspicions had come in for a share
of the attention of one of the gun-brigs, and it was noticeable that,
after the man-o'-war had run down and hailed her, no further accidents
appeared to have happened aboard her, so that the disabled ship had
gradually settled away some five miles astern and to leeward of her.
Just as the darkness was closing down upon us, however, she took in her
trysail and fore-topmast-staysail, and set a main-staysail instead; but
they were so long about it that, when at length the change had been
effected, the ship had drawn up to within about half a mile of the
brigantine's lee quarter. I directed Captain Winter's attention to
this, and he agreed with me that the manoeuvre had an exceedingly
suspicious appearance.
"The ship, however, is quite safe for the present," he remarked; "for,
even assuming the brigantine to be a Frenchman and a privateer, her
people can do nothing so long as it continues to blow so heavily as at
present. But directly that the wind shows signs of dropping we may look
out; and if we observe any further suspicious manoeuvres we may safely
conclude that she is French, and, if the men-o'-war do not forestall us,
we will have a slap at her; for she appears to be a wonderfully fast and
weatherly craft and is certainly a most magnificent sea-boat."
I determined that I would keep a sharp eye upon the movements of that
brigantine--for I could not rid my mind of a very strong suspicion that
her people meant mischief,--and I accordingly watched her until she had
displayed her light, which I then pointed out to a man whom I told off
for the especial purpose of keeping his eye on it; it being my intention
to persuade the skipper, if possible, to run down a little closer to her
when it had become sufficiently dark to conceal our movements from
observation. Captain Winter offered no objection to my proposal; and
accordingly, at eight bells of the second dog-watch, when the deck was
relieved, our helm was put up and we edged away down toward the light
which was stated to be that of the brigantine. But when at length, by
careful manoeuvring, we had contrived to approach within biscuit-toss of
the vessel displaying it, it was discovered, to my chagrin, that she was
not the brigantine, but a large barque, the skipper of which appeared to
be greatly frightened at our sudden appearance near him; for he hailed
us, in execrable French, that he was armed, and that if we did not sheer
off forthwith he would fire into us. I replied, in English, that he
need not be afraid of us, as we were British, like himself, and then
inquired whether he had seen a large brigantine in his neighbourhood. I
got a reply to my question, it is true, but it was utterly
incomprehensible; and I doubt very much whether the man understood what
I had said to him; for the wind rendered it almost impossible for the
most powerful voice to make itself heard, unless at a very short
distance and dead to windward, as was the barque when her skipper hailed
us. We made several attempts to find the brigantine that night, but
somehow failed to stumble across either her or the disabled ship upon
which we suspected her of entertaining designs.
CHAPTER NINE.
A NARROW ESCAPE, AND A FORTUNATE DISCOVERY.
About midnight there were signs that the gale had pretty well blown
itself out. There was a distinct, if not very strongly-marked decrease
in the strength of the wind, and about an hour before dawn the veil of
impenetrable vapour overhead broke away, showing, first of all, a small
patch of clear sky, with half a dozen stars or so blinking out of it,
and then other and larger patches, with more stars; until, by the time
of sunrise, the sky was clear, save for the thin detached tatters of
fleecy vapour that still swept scurrying away to the northward and
eastward.
It was my morning watch on deck; and with the first grey light of early
dawn I indulged in a thoroughly searching scrutiny of the fleet--or as
much of it as still remained in sight,--on the look-out for the
brigantine; but I failed to discover any traces either of her or of the
disabled ship. This I considered not only surprising but exceedingly
suspicious; as the crew of the ship had contrived, during the previous
day, to clear away the wreck of their top-hamper, and to get their craft
once more under command by setting their fore and main-topsails and a
make-shift fore-staysail, under which the vessel appeared to be doing
exceedingly well when the darkness of the preceding night had closed
down upon the convoy. Indeed, so well had she been doing that it
occurred to me as possible that she might, during the night, have
managed to work herself into a tolerably weatherly position, relatively
to the rest of the fleet; and I therefore took the ship's telescope and
went up as far as the cross-trees, to see whether, from that elevation,
I could discover anything of her to windward. But although I spent a
long half-hour aloft, carefully scrutinising every craft in sight, I was
quite unable to pick up either the ship or the brigantine. I was still
aloft when the skipper made his appearance on deck; and, as I had by
that time about concluded my search, upon seeing him looking up at me I
gave one more comprehensive glance round the horizon, and then descended
to make my report.
"It is exceedingly odd," remarked the skipper, when I had assured him
that both vessels had vanished. "What can have become of them? The
brigantine can scarcely have taken the ship; for there has been, and
still is, far too much sea for boats to live in; and nobody but a madman
would ever dream of running a ship aboard in such weather; it would
simply mean the destruction of both craft. I wonder, now, whether that
actually is the explanation of their disappearance? But, no; the man
who commanded that brigantine was a sailor, whatever flag he may have
sailed under, and no sailor would even so much as think of attempting
such a foolhardy trick! What is your opinion, George?"
"I quite agree with you, sir, as to the impossibility of boarding a ship
in such weather as that of last night," I answered. "Yet the fact
remains that both craft have vanished. And I do not believe that their
disappearance is the result of any accident such as, for instance, one
of them running foul of the other during the darkness. Depend upon it,
sir, the brigantine is safe enough; and, wherever she may be at this
moment, the ship is not far from her."
"Well, it is a very extraordinary circumstance," observed the skipper;
"but I am inclined to believe, with you, that the disappearance of the
one is intimately connected with the disappearance of the other. The
question now is, in which direction ought they to be looked for?"
I considered the matter a little, and then said:
"It appears to me, sir, that there is at least one direction in which--
supposing our suspicions to be correct--they are quite certain not to be
found, and that is to windward, in which direction the convoy will soon
be making sail. If the brigantine is an enemy, and has had any hand in
the disappearance of the ship, depend upon it she would not shape a
course that would involve her being overtaken in a few hours by the
convoy, hampered as she would be by the disabled ship. Nor do I think
she would be altogether likely to run away to leeward; because if the
ship happens to be missed by the men-o'-war--as she pretty certainly
will be before long,--that is precisely the direction in which she would
naturally be looked for. Here we are, all hove-to on the larboard tack,
and my impression is that both vessels have remained on that tack; but,
instead of being hove-to all night, like the rest of us, they have
ratched away through the fleet, and have disappeared away there in the
north-western board."
"There is a good deal of sound reason and common sense in that argument
of yours, George, and, upon my word, I don't know that we could do
better than act upon it," answered the skipper meditatively.
"The sooner the better, sir, I think, if you will excuse me for saying
so," answered I. "The frigate yonder is signalling to the gun-brigs,
who are all answering her; and that, to my mind, looks very much as
though the absence of the ship and the brigantine has just been
discovered. If so, we shall probably have some of the men-o'-war coming
through the fleet making inquiries. And although we have our papers to
show, I must confess I am not in love with the neighbourhood of those
gentry. They may take it into their heads to order us to keep company
until they can come aboard to examine our papers; and, should that
happen, we may say good-bye to twenty or thirty of our best men, to say
nothing of our chance of finding the brigantine. See, sir, the brigs
are shaking out a reef already."
"Ay, so they are," assented the skipper. "You are right, George; it is
high time for us to be off. You may make sail at once. Those brigs
sail fairly well in moderate weather, but they are very crank, and I
believe we can run away from them in such weather as this. Here is one
of them hereaway now, who looks as though she would like to have a word
with us. Give the little hooker all that she will bear, George; and if
that fellow wants to try his rate of sailing with us, he is heartily
welcome to do so."