HMS _Wolverine_ formed one of the African squadron, and was commanded by
the brave and kind Commander Tucker. She had been cruising off the
coast, when, on the 15th of January 1840, she anchored off the river
Brass, or Saint John, one of the mouths of the far-famed and mysterious
Niger. Captain Tucker had made himself thoroughly acquainted with the
coast, as well as with the modes of proceeding of the slave-dealers and
of the slavers, and he was thus enabled to capture a very large number
of vessels, though, with single-minded purpose, as his object was to
stop the slave trade, he endeavoured to take them before they got their
slaves on board. Soon after the brig had brought up, about four miles
from the shore, Captain Tucker ordered the boats to be hoisted out, and
to be fitted for service during an absence of three days. While this
work was going forward, a canoe was observed paddling off from the shore
towards the ship. On her coming alongside, she was found to contain two
natives of great consequence, it seemed, judging from their costume,--
that is to say, if scarlet dresses, or rather wrappers round the loins,
and ornamented caps, might be admitted as tests of rank. They came up
the side without hesitation, and, after some cross-questioning, they
informed Captain Tucker that they had seen a fine schooner, under
American colours, up the river Nun, and that from her appearance and
movements there could be no doubt that she was a slaver. The promise of
a reward induced them, with negro eagerness, to undertake all Captain
Tucker proposed,--to act as spies, and to bring further information
about the vessel, and then to perform the part of pilots in conducting
her, when captured, down the river. This information, which it was
hoped was correct, hurried the departure of the boats. Lieutenant
Dumaresq took charge of the pinnace, as commanding officer of the
expedition; Mr Arthur B. Kingston, then a mate, had the cutter; and
Mr Thorburn, another mate of the _Wolverine_, went in the gig. Water,
provisions, and arms having been placed in the boats, and all being
ready, they shoved off from the ship at half-past ten in the morning.
Lieutenant Dumaresq had one of the black pilots in his boat, and Mr
Kingston had the other with him. Sometimes sailing when there was a
breeze, and at others, when it fell light, the crews, eager for work of
some sort, pulling away with a will, they soon reached the mouth of the
river Brass. The river is here pretty broad; its banks, as far as the
eye can reach, covered with tall mangroves, their dark foliage imparting
a sombre and almost funereal aspect to the scenery. After the boats had
pulled about ten miles up the Brass, they reached a sort of natural
canal which connects the Brass with the Nun. On passing through this,
they entered the Nun, when they hove to for dinner,--a meal not at all
unwelcome after their long pull. The crews being refreshed, they again
bent to their oars, and proceeded about 30 miles up the Nun. Darkness
now rapidly came on, and they were no longer able to see ahead, nor had
they been able to discover anything of their looked-for prize. On
questioning their black volunteer pilots, the worthy gentlemen seemed
very uncertain, not only whether the slaver had sailed, but where she
had been and where they then were. One declared that they had come much
higher up than where she was last seen, and that she had probably been
sheltered from their observation in one of the numerous creeks which run
through the banks of the river. In this dilemma a council of war was
held, and at first it was proposed to retrace their steps, till the
elder of the black pilots offered to take a small canoe they had with
them higher up the river, to ascertain whether or not the slaver was
there. This proposal being agreed to by Lieutenant Dumaresq, the two
negroes pulled away, and were soon lost in the darkness, not without
some slight misgivings as to whether or not they would ever return.
However, to pass the time during the absence of the negroes, they piped
to supper. A small portion only of the ship's biscuit and salt pork had
been discussed, and a glass of grog had just been served out all round,
when the canoe was seen gliding at full speed out of the darkness, the
dip of her paddles just breaking the stillness of the night. "Well, my
men, any news of the slaver?" asked the lieutenant in an eager whisper,
for the return of the canoe gave him hopes that a prize was at hand.
"Ship live there," answered the elder black, in the clear and distinct
tones in which his race can speak, but still only in a whisper. No
sooner was this announcement made than the oars were got out
simultaneously, and, at a word from Lieutenant Dumaresq, the boats went
ahead like magic. Not a word except the necessary ones of command was
uttered. Everyone knew the importance of silence. The three boats,
urged on by their eager crews, advanced abreast at full speed. Ten
minutes, or little more, were sufficient to show the dark outline of a
schooner, her masts and spars relieved against the starry sky. Silent
as the grave, the boats pulled on, their oars so carefully dipped, that
scarcely a splash was heard. Those on board the schooner slept, or
seemed to sleep, for not a sound was heard from her decks. A slaver's
crew, however, conscious of the risks they are running in their
nefarious traffic, are seldom off their guard, and the British seamen
were fully prepared for a reception with a shower of grape and musketry.
Yet, without a thought of the consequences, on getting close to her, on
they dashed with a cheer, and in another instant were alongside and
scrambling up her sides. So unexpected had been their attack, that not
an attempt at resistance was made; and, to the no small delight of
Lieutenant Dumaresq and his followers, they found themselves in
possession of a fine little schooner, which proved to be the _Lark_,
with a crew of no less than thirty Spaniards. They were first all
properly secured and sent down below, with orders to behave themselves,
and a hint that if they did not, it would be the worse for them.
A slaver's crew have a right, it is understood, to try and retake their
vessel without being treated as pirates and hung in case they do not
succeed, or are afterwards captured; so it becomes necessary to keep a
very sharp look-out after them. Her papers were at the same time
secured, and, on her circumstances being investigated, not a doubt
remained as to her character.
Bending sails, and getting all ready for an early start, occupied some
time, when, the watch being set, with strict orders to keep a wakeful
eye on the prisoners, the rest of the party lay down on the sails, and
were soon sound asleep.
At early dawn all hands were roused up, and the schooner was very soon
got under weigh. There was little or no wind to fill her sails, so the
boats' crews had to tow her down the river, hoping to find a breeze, as
they got near its mouth, to take her out. Nine miles of their distance
had been thus accomplished, when, at about seven o'clock, as she was
passing through a long reach of the river Nun, a sail hove in sight,
which was soon discovered to be a rakish two-topsail schooner. She
stood boldly on up the river towards the barracoons, either not
observing the little _Lark_, or, at all events, not suspecting into
whose hands she had fallen. Lieutenant Dumaresq on this instantly
ordered the man-of-war boats to be hauled up alongside of the schooner
on the opposite side to that on which the stranger was approaching, so
that she should not observe them, and, by taking fright, endeavour to
make her escape. At the same time, the pinnace and gig were manned and
held in readiness (the crews being well armed) to board the schooner,
Mr Kingston receiving orders to remain in charge of the _Lark_ with the
cutter's crew. On slowly came the stranger, the light wind only just
enabling her to stem the current. She seemed totally unconscious of the
neighbourhood of her enemies. On a sudden something seemed to awaken
her suspicions; and Lieutenant Dumaresq, judging that the best time had
arrived for taking possession, shoved off and pulled towards her as fast
as the crews could lay their backs to the oars. Mr Kingston meantime
was left in command of the _Lark_, with the cutter's crew; Mr Thorburn
accompanied their leader. Away went the boats. The stranger now for
the first time was aware of her danger, or rather certainty of capture,
unless she could blow the approaching boats out of the water; but she
could have had but slight hopes of doing so with any chance of ultimate
success, as she saw that the _Lark_ was in the hands of her enemies, and
she could not tell how many people might be remaining on board to avenge
the destruction of their comrades. Still, slavers, when they have seen
a chance of success, have often fought desperately; and the cutter's
crew on board the _Lark_ watched with deep interest the approach of the
two boats to the big schooner, not knowing what moment she might open
her fire on them; but the slaver's crew had not even the brute-like
courage to induce them to fight in defence of their accursed calling,
and, without firing a shot, they allowed the two boats to come
alongside. Once having a firm hold of the slaver's chains with their
boat-hooks, the British seamen very quickly scrambled on board. The
crew, who were chiefly Spaniards, made no opposition, nor did a number
of other people, who, dressed in shore-going clothes, announced
themselves as passengers. There was certainly a wonderfully sea-going
look about them, though they all seemed very anxious to leave the vessel
as fast as possible. Now, as the consequences of detaining people
against their will are often very disagreeable, Lieutenant Dumaresq,
whatever might have been his suspicions, thought it best to allow the
gentlemen to take their departure. It was afterwards discovered that
the fellows, who were all of them belonging to the slaver's crew, took
on shore a very considerable number of doubloons, which form in general
the most valuable portion of a prize, unless she has her cargo of slaves
on board; the slave-vessel herself and her stores rarely sell for much.
What was called head-money has of late years been reduced to one-fourth
of what it was formerly. The new prize proved to be the _Asp_, a fit
name for a slaver, though she was now effectually deprived of her sting.
As soon as she was thoroughly overhauled, and all her forthcoming
papers secured, the Spanish crew were sent below, and the man-of-war's
boats began towing the two schooners down the river. It was laborious
work, after the incessant labour for so many hours the men had gone
through; but a prize tows easily, and the gallant fellows cheerfully
bent to their oars. Thus the two vessels proceeded on rapidly between
the mangrove-covered banks of the river. By five p.m. the entrance of
the Nun appeared in sight, and preparations were instantly made for
crossing the bar,--I must rather say bars, for there are three, one
within the other, at some distance apart; and over them, when the
current sets out and the wind blows in, the sea breaks with great
violence, so that, under those circumstances, the crossing them, even in
a decked vessel, is a work of very considerable danger. On this
occasion appearances were far from favourable: the wind was foul, and
blowing very strong; a heavy sea was breaking over the bars, its
incessant roar seeming like a warning not to venture into its power;
while evening was rapidly closing in, the coming darkness threatening to
increase the difficulties to be encountered. Still Mr Dumaresq was
unwilling to expose his followers to the baneful atmospheric influences
of another night spent within the mouth of the river, or to the chances
of attack from any of the slavers' friends who might be in the
neighbourhood, and who would always be ready to win back a prize at any
sacrifice of the lives of the captors; though that was a contingency not
likely to happen. He was rather influenced, probably, by his anxiety to
secure his prizes, and to report his proceedings to his superior
officer. The schooners had anchored just inside the inner bar, and all
the necessary preparations having been made, and the tide serving, they
again got under weigh. Mr Dumaresq led in the _Asp_, directing Mr
Kingston to follow in his wake. This Mr Kingston did, approaching the
bar on the starboard tack, the _Lark_ having the cutter towing astern,
and her own boat, which could not be hoisted up on account of the
tackles being unrove, and a net full of vegetables being worked athwart
the davits. Neither could her boat be got on board, on account of the
crowded state of the decks. As the _Lark_ drew close to the bar, the
appearance of things in no degree mended. Hands were placed in the
chains, who kept the lead constantly going; and, as the water shoaled,
the schooners had to tack repeatedly, wearing sometimes, as the heavy
swell threatened otherwise to prevent their coming round. From the
first, Mr Kingston had but little confidence in the black volunteer
pilot who had accompanied him on board the _Lark_; and now, though he
urged him by threats to perform the duty he had undertaken, and tried to
stimulate him to exertion by reminding him of his promised reward, he
only answered, "This is no my bar!" and finally threw himself down on
the deck under the bulwarks, refusing to take any further charge of the
vessel. It must be remembered that the boats had entered the Niger by
the _Brass_ river, the bar of which was _his bar_, and that he had
bargained to act as pilot through its mouth, so that there was ample
excuse for the poor wretch; this, however, in no degree lessened the
danger of the position in which the little _Lark_ was placed.
It was now perfectly dark and very squally, while nothing was visible to
mark the course the vessel should pursue but the phosphorescent light of
the breakers stretching across the bar from shore to shore; while to all
appearance there seemed to be reef only beyond reef, destruction on
which it was scarcely possible the schooner could escape. Though the
_Lark_ was pressed to the utmost, the _Asp_ soon distanced her; and
though Lieutenant Dumaresq showed lights, they were of little or no use
in guiding her course. Squall after squall struck the little schooner;
and, as she heeled over, it sometimes appeared that she would never
again rise, or be able to beat out through the tremendous surf which
came rolling in. At length Mr Kingston judged it wise to shorten sail,
which he forthwith did, having set only his mainsail, jib, and
fore-and-aft foresail, a fore-trysail. He also sent a good hand on the
fore-yard to look out for any break which might happily appear in the
white wall of surf which came rolling in over the surrounding shoals.
The little _Lark_ had now reached the innermost of the three bars, and
was pitching into the seas, which came foaming up and rolling over her
decks. She had the cutter towing after her, and astern of that was the
schooner's boat. That very soon began to fill, and finally swamped,
when it became necessary to cut her adrift. This was done, and she
quickly disappeared. At about a quarter to eight a blue light was
observed close to windward; and as the _Lark_ was wearing off the
heaviest part of the bar, some voices were heard hailing her. It was
soon discovered that they proceeded from the pinnace, which had
apparently several hands in her. Again they hailed, imploring to be
picked up, stating, as far as could be understood, that they had broken
adrift from astern of the _Asp_, with the gig, which was lost; and from
the words which reached the _Lark_, Mr Kingston was very much afraid
that several lives were already sacrificed, while it seemed too probable
that those in the pinnace would share the same fate, unless he could
manage to get near them to take them on board. There was not a moment
to spare. The pinnace, it must be understood, was inside the _Lark_,
higher up the river, the _Lark_ having passed her after she had broken
adrift from the _Asp_. In another minute she would have drifted among
the breakers, when the destruction of all on board would be sealed. To
pick her up under weigh was almost impossible; and, with the tide and
heavy sea, the schooner could not be steered with any degree of
certainty even near her; and could even this be done, the probabilities
were that she would be swamped before the men could be got out of her.
The young officer therefore saw that but one course only was open for
him to pursue with any chance of success, and that involved immense risk
both to the vessel and his people. To think is to act with a British
seaman in a case of emergency. He saw that to intercept the boat he
must anchor; and, having both anchors clear, and a hand by the weather
one all along, he ordered it to be let go, though he had but two fathoms
at the time under the vessel's keel, while the surf from the second bar
was curling up round the vessel's sides, threatening to make a clear
sweep of her decks. His order to let go was perhaps not understood, or
the Spanish crew, some thirty in number, seeing what was about to be
done, and expecting instant destruction in consequence, endeavoured to
impede it; at all events, he had to rush forward and cut the stoppers
with an axe, which he luckily had at hand.
The schooner brought up all standing, the sea at the same instant making
a terrific breach over her; but the helmsman was a good hand, and
sheered her over to the exact spot the pinnace must pass. The whole was
the work of a moment. The boat drifted near, a rope was hove into her,
and providentially caught by the nearly exhausted crew. She was hauled
alongside, her people being got out, while some fresh hands went down
into her and secured her with her own cable and the end of the
schooner's main-sheet. At the same time the schooner's fore-sheet was
passed into the cutter as a preventer. Four men were saved from the
pinnace. They stated that she and the gig had been towing astern of the
_Asp_, with two hands in each, when, on crossing the inner bar, they
both broke adrift together. Instead, however, of the two men in the
pinnace getting into the gig, which they might have managed, those in
the smaller got into the larger boat, fancying they would be safer, when
they found themselves totally unable to pull her against the tide, or to
guide her to shore. The _Lark_ very soon after this began to drive,
when the other anchor was dropped under foot, while they veered away on
the larboard cable. She now held, but the breakers made a clean breach
over her decks, washing adrift the numerous casks, loose spars,
fowl-coops, and a variety of other things; and in addition, what was
worse than all, a large scuttle-butt of palm-oil. Meantime, to increase
the confusion and danger, the cutter and pinnace were striking the stern
and quarters of the vessel with great force, often coming as far forward
as the main-chains on both sides. The Spaniards had from the first been
very unruly, and they now gave symptoms of an intention of breaking into
open mutiny. In addition, therefore, to the variety of other duties the
British seamen were called on to perform, it became necessary for them
to keep their arms in readiness, to repel any sudden attack the fellows
might venture to make on them for the purpose of regaining the schooner.
The palm-oil, also, which is like very thick red mud, had coated the
whole deck from before the foremast nearly as far aft as the mainmast,
making it more slippery even than ice, so that no one could either stand
or walk on it. The water, also, had no effect on its greasy
composition, and as there were no ashes on board to strew over it, one
part of the deck became almost separated from the other. The Spaniards
were evidently watching their opportunity, and kept eyeing the British
seamen with no friendly intentions. They were four to one of them, and
though deprived of their muskets and cutlasses, they had still the long
knives in their belts, without which no Spaniard ever thinks his costume
complete. The wretches kept up such a hubbub, and did so much to impede
the work of the vessel, that some of them very nearly got shot, as a
hint to the rest of what they might expect if they proceeded to
extremities. The gallant young officer himself had little fear of what
they might venture to do, as, considering the dilemma the vessel was
placed in, surrounded by shoals, with heavy breakers close at hand, and
in thick darkness, they could scarcely hope to get out to sea and escape
that way, or, if they returned up the river, to avoid recapture should
they regain possession of the vessel. In obedience, however, to his
written instructions, he kept some of his people under arms to watch the
fellows. For full half an hour the little schooner lay in this way, it
being expected every instant that her anchors would part, when a roller,
more severe even than the others, threw the cutter on board on the
larboard quarter, breaking the bunk adrift and capsizing it. As the
vessel rose again, the boat fell aft and immediately filled, when she
was of necessity cut adrift to prevent her doing more damage; and as
soon as this was done she sank. Shortly after this the squalls began to
become less frequent, and the breakers moderated gradually; an opening,
also, was seen in the line of sparkling foam from the fore-yard; so Mr
Kingston resolved to make sail and to get out of the river. He
contrived to weigh the starboard or lee anchor, after very many
fruitless attempts to do so on account of the heavy surges; but as it
was found impossible to purchase the weather one, it was slipped, and
the schooner wore round under her jib in a quarter less two fathoms. A
sharp-sighted seaman stood on the fore-yard, from whence he conned the
vessel,--the lead kept going as before. The mainsail was then set, and
the schooner stood out towards the opening which appeared in the surf.
She obeyed her helm readily, the rocks and shoals were avoided, and at
length the outer bar was safely passed. At about ten p.m. she came up
with the _Asp_, anchored a short distance outside. Lieutenant Dumaresq
stood with speaking-trumpet in hand, and hailed the _Lark_. "I'm glad
you've got out safe; but I fear four of my poor fellows are lost, and
our two boats."
"They're safe on board, and I have your boat in tow," was the answer. A
loud congratulatory cheer from the British seamen on board the _Asp_
signified their satisfaction at the success of Mr Kingston's gallant
exploit. He then anchored, and, going on board the _Asp_, was further
thanked and congratulated by his superior officer; who had not only
given up all hopes of the people in the pinnace and gig having escaped,
but of the _Lark_ herself, as his own vessel had had a most perilous
passage across the bars. She had struck three times, in one of which
shocks the boats had broken adrift. The two schooners again weighed and
ran down to the _Wolverine_, lying off the Brass, ten miles distant. On
their arrival, Mr Kingston had the satisfaction of receiving the
warmest approval of his excellent commander for the gallantry and
judgment he had displayed. The vessels were afterwards sent to Sierra
Leone, where they were condemned and cut up.
Mr Kingston having taken the _Lark_ schooner to Sierra Leone, where she
was condemned, was appointed to HMS _Saracen_, which soon afterwards
arrived there. From that place the _Saracen_ sailed for the river
Gambia, soon after the 2nd of March.
On the evening of the 13th of the same month, while on her passage
there, when it was blowing fresh, with a heavy cross sea, a lad
aged nineteen, named John Plunket, fell overboard from the
main-topgallant-yard. In falling he struck against the topsail-yard and
the sweeps stowed on the quarter, and was bleeding at the mouth and
almost senseless when he reached the water. The lad could not swim, and
his death seemed inevitable; when Mr Kingston, who was on the
quarter-deck, without a moment's hesitation sprang overboard, exclaiming
to his commander as he ran aft, "Send a boat as quick as you can, sir--
I'll save him." He struck out bravely towards the poor lad, but before
he could reach him he sank. A cry of horror arose from all on board,
for they thought the lad was lost, though every exertion was made to get
a boat in the water to pick up Mr Kingston. Plunket, however, again
rose, and Mr Kingston grasping hold of him, supported him above water,
though with much difficulty, as the lad, who bled profusely from the
mouth and nostrils, convulsively clung round him, and almost dragged him
down to the bottom. Fortunately, he released himself from the clutch of
the now senseless youth, and continued to support him by swimming and
treading water. For fear of exhaustion, he afterwards threw himself on
his back, and, placing the head of his almost inanimate shipmate on his
chest, he kept him up for a quarter of an hour, till a boat reached them
and took them on board.
On another occasion, while on the coast of Africa, in a spot where
sharks were known to abound, Mr Kingston leaped overboard after another
lad who had fallen into the water. Fortunately the life-buoy was let go
at the same time, and, wisely catching hold of it, he towed it up to the
sinking youth, and providentially preserved his life.