On leaving the _Glutton_, I was struck down by sickness, and lay for
many long months in the hospital at Portsmouth, scarcely expecting to
recover. Oh, how hideous did Death, which I had braved a hundred times
in open fight, appear as silently he stalked along the wards of the
hospital! I trembled as I thought of the past;--how small was the hope
I had in the future! There was no one to bring me comfort--no one to
afford counsel--no one to point out the right, the only way by which a
sinner can be justified in the sight of a pure, just, holy God. Many
good resolutions I made--as many were soon afterwards broken. I
recovered; health returned to my veins--vigour to my arm. Once more I
was afloat in a dashing frigate.
We were off the Frenchman's coast. In a deep bay lay a number of the
enemy's vessels. It was necessary to ascertain their character. They
were supposed to be gun-boats. Our second lieutenant, Mr Ronald--a
noble specimen of a naval officer, and as active as a cat, though he had
but one leg--was directed to take the gig, a fast-pulling boat, and to
gain all the information he could. I was with him; so was Peter. The
frigate had made sail, as if about to leave the coast; but as soon as it
was dark, she stood back again. The gig was lowered, and we shoved off.
In dead silence, with muffled oars, we pulled in towards the shore. We
knew that the enemy mustered strong in the neighbourhood. Thus it was
necessary to be cautious. Not a word was spoken. The phosphorescent
light sparkled from the blades of our oars, appearing brighter from the
darkness which prevailed, but that could not be seen at any distance.
The time for our expedition had been well selected. We had pitchy
darkness to favour our advance; but we knew that the moon would soon
rise, and enable us to make the necessary observations. We pulled
slowly in, for the tide was with us, and Mr Ronald told us to reserve
our strength till it would be most required. As we got close in with
the shore, we could make out the masts of a number of vessels, in a
confused mass; but what they were without more light, it was impossible
to say without going close up to them. Mr Ronald was not a man to
leave his work half done through fear of consequences, so we pulled on
till our oars almost touched some of the outer vessels. Our officer
made his remarks as we continued our course round the bay.
Not a sound had broken the stillness of the night except the almost
inaudible dip of our oars in the water. The clouds, which had hitherto
obscured the sky, floated gradually away; the stars shone forth bright
and clear, their sparkling orbs reflected in the smooth water; and then,
rising from behind the land, the moon shed her calm silvery gleam across
the sheltered bay. We were at the time under the shadow of some high
land. "Give way, my lads; it is time we should be out of this!"
whispered the lieutenant. It was time indeed! Peter's quick eye,
looking seaward, observed several dark objects floating in the distance.
"Boats in!" he said, pointing in that direction. The lieutenant looked
there also. There could be no doubt about it. There were four large
boats. He ordered us to lay on our oars, to watch in what direction
they would pull. We hoped that they had not as yet observed us. The
people in the boats seemed to be holding a conference. At last they
parted. One pulled across the mouth of the bay in one direction; one in
the other; but two advanced up the bay. There seemed no possibility of
our escaping without being seen. Still it was far from Mr Ronald's
intention of giving in till he was actually laid hold of. Hitherto the
shade of the cliff prevented our being seen. The gap between the boats
through which we could hope to escape widened more and more. Meantime,
our thoughts were occupied in the contemplation of the pleasures of a
French prison, of which we had too often heard to have any wish to enjoy
them. Mr Ronald watched our opportunity. "Now, my lads," he
whispered, "give way with a will!" We needed no encouragement. As a
rat darts out of the corner in which it has taken shelter when the dogs
stand ready on either side hoping to catch it, so we darted out from our
sheltered nook towards the open sea.
The movement drew the attention of the French boats towards us, and in
another minute all four were steering courses which would give them
every prospect of cutting us off. We were all armed, but it would have
been madness to attempt to beat off so overwhelming a force. We had to
trust alone to the fleetness of our heels. We might have a prospect of
distancing the two boats which had gone up the bay, and which were on
our larboard-hand, but we must inevitably run the gauntlet between the
other two. The question was, whether we could pass through them before
they closed in on us. We made the strong ash sticks bend again as we
sent the boat flying through the bubbling water. We sung out in our
eagerness, encouraging each other. Every moment the space between the
two boats was narrowing. We did not give in though. The Frenchmen now
saw that there was a chance of our escaping, and began firing. The
bullets flew thickly about our heads. Several hit the gunwale of the
boat, but none of us were hurt. Their firing rather encouraged us to
persevere, in the hope of escaping.
At last I felt a severe blow on my arm, and involuntarily dropped my
oar. A bullet had struck it. Still, I was sure it was not broken; so I
took my handkerchief off my neck, and bound it up. I seized my oar, and
pulled on. "Oh, the blackguards! sure if they'd give us a fair start,
and not be sending their dirty bullets at us, we'd be after bating them
entirely, now!" sung out an Irishman, who pulled the bow-oar. Many
people would, under the circumstances we were placed in, have given up
before this; but Mr Ronald still hoped that we might dodge our enemies,
and escape. The boats were not a hundred yards on either side of us.
They gave way with a will. So did we. Still we might slip between
them. If we did, we should have a good start; and pulling fast, as we
could do, we might escape, should they not continue firing at us; but
how could we expect them to be so lenient? On they came; narrow,
indeed, grew the space between them. We dashed on. With a cry of
dismay, we saw that our efforts were of no avail! With such force did
they come on, that they literally almost cut our boat in two; and as she
sunk between them, we had to jump out--some into one boat, some into the
other--to save ourselves from drowning, and to find ourselves prisoners.
How the Frenchmen did jabber away, and ask us all sorts of questions,
none of which we could answer, from not being able to muster a word of
French amongst us. The other boats came up, and then there was still
more jabbering; and then the Frenchmen made us all get into one boat,
and pulled with us towards a point of land on the east side of the bay.
The boat soon reached a small, rough pier, and then two of the men,
jumping on shore, ran off towards the town, which stood a little way off
from us. We sat, meantime, wondering what was to be our fate.
Shortly afterwards the tramp of feet was heard, and six or eight
soldiers, or militiamen, or gendarmes, appeared, and halted near us.
The officer of the boat then had a talk with them, and committed us to
their charge. I have no doubt he told them to take good care that we
did not run away. The boat, we concluded, had to row watch, and could
not remain long absent from her post. The soldiers, before receiving
us, grounded arms; shoved their ramrods down their muskets, to show us
that they were loaded; examined the primings in the pans, and then,
presenting their bayonets at our backs, in most unpleasant proximity,
ordered us to advance. Our cutlasses had been taken away, and, of
course, the muskets had gone down with the gig; but both Mr Ronald and
Peter had their pistols stuck in their belts, inside their great-coats,
so the Frenchmen did not discover them. We did not wish our first
captors good-bye, nor exchange a word with each other, but, seeing there
was no help for it, slowly stumbled on over the uneven ground ahead of
our guards. I hoped that they would keep their footing better than we
did; for, if not, some of us would stand a great chance of being run
through with their bayonets. Had we not been unarmed, and aware that
the boat was within hail, I don't think we should have allowed ourselves
to have been carried along as prisoners.
However, our walk was soon at an end, and we reached the tower, which
stood a short distance along-shore from where we landed, and not three
hundred yards from the beach. It appeared to be in a very tumble-down
ruinous condition, as we inspected it from the outside. We concluded
that we should have to wait here till the following morning, before
being marched off to prison. Whether the tower had been built for a
fort, or only a mill, or a look-out place, it was difficult to discover
in the scant light we had. There was a small arched door before us,
with some stone winding-steps leading up from it. The sergeant in
command of the party pointed to it, and some of the men gave us a gentle
prick with the end of their bayonets, singing out, at the same time,
some words which we guessed to be a command to go up there.
"Let me go first, sir," exclaimed Peter Poplar, springing through the
door. "There may be some trap in the way, and it's hard that you should
have to fall down that, at all events."
When we were all in, the soldiers followed, making us go winding-up till
we reached a chamber at the top of the building. The French soldiers
saw us all in, and then shoving to the door, they shut it with a loud
bang; but as there was no sound of bolts or bars, we guessed that there
were none to the door.
The light of the moon shone directly in through a loop-holed slip of a
window, and we saw some billets of wood, and a small cask or two, and a
few three-legged stools, with a broken table, and the remains of a
bedstead, showing that the place had once been inhabited. Mr Ronald
took a seat, and told us to follow his example; so we all sat down,
feeling certainly very melancholy at first. We had much reason to be
melancholy, for by this time we had heard a good deal about French
prisons, and the treatment English prisoners received in them; and we
could scarcely fancy a worse fate than to have to spend our future days
in one. The lieutenant, however, was not the man to allow himself or
others long to indulge in such thoughts. He got up.
"We are in a bad plight, certainly, my lads," said he; "but we'll see if
we cannot mend it. I have been in a worse plight myself--and so, I
daresay, have you--and managed to escape without damage. Perhaps we may
do so in this case."
"Yes, sir," said Peter; "indeed I have." And he described how we had
escaped from the pirates' den in Cuba.
I told my companions how I had been preserved from being murdered by the
Maroons; and altogether we soon got each other's spirits up. My wounded
arm hurt me not a little, but Peter took off my jacket, and bound it up
carefully; and though I cannot say that the pain was much decreased, I
resolved to bear it without complaining.
Meantime, Mr Ronald made a minute examination of the place of our
confinement; and by stepping on the table he discovered a hole in the
roof, which he found that he could, without difficulty, make as large as
he might wish. He at once set to work to do so, we all talking and
walking about the room, to conceal any noise he might make. When he had
got the hole large enough to admit his body, Peter, putting his shoulder
under him, gave him a hoist through it, and with his hands and elbows he
quickly scrambled up on the roof. As it sloped very much he could not
walk about, so he sat himself down to make his observations. Having
done so, and stayed some time to consider matters and form his plans, he
came back into the room.
"My lads," said he, calling us round him, "you must clearly understand
the position we are in. We are prisoners to our greatest enemies. They
may choose to consider us as spies, and may cut our throats, or shoot us
as such; and, at all events, they will send us to prison, and there keep
us, as they have done many of our countrymen, till the war is over.
Now, while I was on the roof I saw, not far from the beach, a small boat
moored; and a mile or so away, I made out what I take to be a fleet of
fishing-boats. What I propose is, to knock over the sentry at the door,
and, if we can, we'll surprise the rest of the soldiers, and gag and
bind them. If they show fight, it can't be helped: we must kill them.
At all events, we must prevent them from raising an alarm, or following
us. We will then make the best of our way to the beach, and I will
undertake to swim off, and bring in the small boat I saw there. When we
get her, it will be very hard if we cannot cut out some fishing-smack or
other, in which we can cross over to England. If we don't succeed, we
shall probably get killed ourselves; but if we do, we shall obtain our
liberty, and that is worth a struggle."
This speech inspirited us all, and we could scarcely refrain from
shouting, as we promised to follow his directions, and to stick by him
through thick and thin.
The Frenchmen seeing that he had a wooden leg, and hearing him stump up
and down, of course fancied that he would never attempt to run away; or
that if he did make the attempt, he would not go without them finding it
out. This, perhaps, made them more careless in the way they watched us.
At all events, they had not even then found out what stuff English
sailors are made of; and I don't think they ever will.
"Then, my lads, there's no time to be lost," said the lieutenant. "Are
you all ready?"
"Yes, sir," said Peter, speaking for the rest; "but I beg pardon, sir,
won't your leg be heard as we go down, and it may give notice to the
Frenchmen?"
"I have thought of that," said Mr Ronald, fastening a handkerchief
round the end of the stump. "Now, I shall tread as softly as a cat."
We had all taken off our shoes, and armed ourselves with the legs of the
table and the legs of the stools we had found in the room. My heart
beat quick. Never had I been engaged in so daring a work. We dared not
try the door till the moment we were to rush out. Mr Ronald gave the
signal, and he leading the way, we threw open the door, and, before the
sentry could turn his head, or even cry out, we had our hands on his
mouth, and throwing him down backwards among us, we squeezed every
breath out of his body. Whether he lived or died, I cannot say. We
seized his musket and bayonet and sword, and without a moment's delay,
which would have been fatal, we rushed on, and sprung like wild beasts
into the room where our guards were sitting. Some were sleeping; others
were playing at cards; two were talking with their heads bent together.
They had not time to look up even before we were upon them. Mr Ronald
ran one of the card-players through with the sword we had taken from the
guard; Peter killed another with the bayonet. I shall not forget his
look of astonishment and dismay when he saw us standing before him. One
of the other men knocked over a third with the leg of the table. Before
the others could seize their arms, we had got hold of them. Mr Ronald
was obliged to kill another man, who fought so desperately that we could
not otherwise master him; and throwing ourselves on the remaining three,
we bound and gagged them, and lashed them to the benches on which they
had been sitting. The whole affair did not take us a minute. It was
very bloody work, but it could not be helped. We then hurried to the
bottom of the tower, and broke open the door. We had been prisoners a
very short time, and could scarcely believe ourselves to be free.
Hastening down to the beach, Mr Ronald stripped off his clothes, and
plunging into the water, with his knife in his mouth, swam off towards
the little boat he had before observed. Had it not been for my wound, I
would gladly have gone instead of him. In spite of his wooden leg, he
swam fast and strongly, and soon reached the boat. Getting into her, he
cut her from her moorings, and then quickly paddled her to the more.
More than once we had turned a glance inland, lest we mould have been
observed; but, without interruption, Mr Ronald dressed, and then all of
us getting into the boat, we pulled out seaward. She was too small to
allow us, with any prospect of safety, to cross the Channel in her, so
that we could not yet consider our enterprise accomplished.
We had armed ourselves with the soldiers' weapons, so that, had there
been a strong breeze off-shore, we should not have been afraid to have
attacked and attempted to cut out any merchant vessel or other
well-armed craft. As it was, Mr Ronald judged that it would be wiser
to endeavour to capture one of the fishing-boats he had seen. Muffling
our oars, therefore, in dead silence we pulled out towards the largest
of the fleet, and which lay the outermost of them all. Gliding
alongside, we stepped softly on board. Her crew were, as we expected,
asleep, and before they had opened their eyes we had our hands on their
throats and our knees on their bosoms. As there were only three men and
a boy, we easily mastered them; and, having bound and gagged them, we
put them into the forepeak, while we proceeded to haul up the anchor and
get the vessel under way.
As soon as we could attend to our prisoners, we made signs to them that
we would not hurt them; and I fancied that they considered themselves
very fortunate in not having their throats cut, or being thrown
overboard, by those terrible monsters, "_les betes Anglais_." There was
a light air off the shore, and, with very great satisfaction, we stood
away from it. Anxiously we looked towards the coast we were leaving,
but, as far as our eyes could pierce the gloom, we could not discover
any vessel in pursuit of us. Still we were not free from danger, as we
were likely enough to fall in with a French vessel, and again find
ourselves prisoners. Mr Ronald, who was as kind and thoughtful as he
was brave, told me to go to sleep; but my arm gave me too much pain to
allow me to do so.
The hours of night passed by, and day dawned; the bright sun arose on a
cloudless sky. The coast of France rose in blue ridges astern of us,
but not a sail was in sight all round the horizon. As our prospect of
escaping recapture improved, our appetites, which we had not thought
about, reminded us that we had gone a long time without eating; but when
we came to examine the fishermen's lockers, we found only a little black
bread aboard, and a most scanty supply of water. They made us
understand that their boat had gone on shore with some of their comrades
to bring off water and provisions. Mr Ronald insisted on preserving
most of the water for me, as a fever was already on me, and I was
suffering dreadfully from thirst.
The wind was very light, and we made but little way. As the sun rose,
however, clouds began to collect to the northward, and the sky overhead
became covered over with those long wavy white lines which go by the
name of "mares' tails," and which always betoken wind. Still we stood
on as before. Every now and then, however, a puff would come which
threw the sails aback; but it quickly passed away, to be succeeded
shortly by a stronger and more continuous one. At last the breeze
headed us altogether, freshening up rapidly, till Mr Ronald called all
hands to reef sails. The wind soon got the sea up, and in a short time
we were pitching away close-hauled, with the boat's head to the
north-west. Changed, indeed, was the weather since the morning: then
all had been bright, and blue, and calm; now, in the afternoon, the sky
hung dark and gloomy, with heavy clouds, and green foam-topped seas
danced wildly around us. I do not know what Mr Ronald thought about
the matter, but as I lay on my back suffering from pain, hunger, and
thirst, I began to question whether the ill-found boat would live
through the sea which was getting up.
Meantime a sharp look-out was kept for any vessel which might put us on
shore anywhere on the English coast. At length a sail was seen to the
eastward, and after watching her for some time, both Mr Ronald and
Peter were of opinion that she would cross our course. This news
cheered the spirits of all hands, for they had begun to suffer painfully
from hunger and thirst. No one had taken more than a very small piece
of black bread, for we could not deprive the poor French fishermen of
their share of food. We were most anxious, on several accounts, that
the stranger should get up to us before dark--in the first place, that
we might ascertain whether she was friend or foe, and also lest we
should miss her altogether. Should she prove French, we hoped, in spite
of our hunger, still to avoid her. To mislead any enemies, we got out
the Frenchmen's clothes left on board, and rigged ourselves out as
fishermen.
"I feel pretty sure that vessel is English, sir," said Peter, who had
been watching the stranger. "But still I can't make out what is the
matter with her; she has been handled pretty roughly, I suspect."
Mr Ronald pronounced her to be a brig-of-war without any after-sail
set; and as she drew near, we saw that there was good reason for this,
as her mainmast had been carried away by the board, while her hull also
had been much knocked about. It was clear that she had been in action.
Mr Ronald waved to her; and, to our no small satisfaction, we saw her
clewing up her sails to speak to us.
Before going alongside, however, Mr Ronald released the Frenchmen, and,
as he thought, explained to them that we were going on board the brig,
and that they might return to the French coast. The Frenchmen stretched
their limbs, and looked about them while we were going alongside the
brig. This was an operation not altogether easy or free of risk, but we
succeeded in getting hold of her. Mr Ronald went up first, followed by
the other men; and as I was far too weak to help myself up, Peter had
gone up the side, and was singing out for a rope, when the Frenchmen,
instigated by what notion I know not, but fancying, I believe, that they
were to be made prisoners, cut off the tow-rope, and hoisting the
foresail, put down the helm, and stood away from the brig. Active as
monkeys, they soon swayed up the mainsail, and, hauling close on a wind,
they rapidly left the brig astern. I saw Peter eagerly waving to them
to come back, and I have no doubt but that he fancied if they did not
they would murder me. The brig, having no after-sail, could not haul
her wind, so that my shipmates were perfectly unable to recover me. I
certainly could do nothing to help myself, so I lay quiet, and trusted
that the Frenchmen would have pity on me. I still thought they might
murder me; and, at all events, expected that I should be sent to a
French prison. I only hoped that we might not reach the part of the
coast we had come from, for I could scarcely expect to escape being put
to death when it was known that I was one of the party who had killed
the French soldiers placed to guard us.
I do not think, at the same time, that the Frenchmen had any murderous
intentions. They were so pleased at recovering their boat and their
liberty, that they were inclined to treat me civilly, if not kindly, and
they continued to supply me with bread and water as I required. As we
were half-way across the Channel, and they had lost their reckoning, we
were not likely, I hoped, to make a good landfall in their attempt to
reach their home.
With anxious eyes I watched the brig on board which my shipmates had
taken refuge, but darkness coming on, we very soon lost sight of her.
My heart sunk within me, and I burst into a fit of tears, the first I
had shed for many a long year. They were as anxious to avoid meeting
any vessel as we had just been to find one. The wind had again chopped
round to the southward, and though not blowing very strong, we made but
little progress.
All night we stood on under close-reefed canvas, and when the next
morning dawned, I saw land to the southward. Its appearance evidently
puzzled the Frenchmen. I guessed it to be no other than that of the
island of Guernsey; while not a mile off, standing towards us under her
topsails, was a large schooner. Had the Frenchmen altered their course,
and run away from her, it would have excited the suspicions of those on
board, so they kept on as before. This plan, however, did not avail
them. A shot, which before long came whistling across our fore-foot,
showed them that they were wanted alongside the schooner. The schooner
hoisted English colours, and from her general appearance I had no doubt
that she was a privateer. As soon, therefore, as the boat went
alongside, I sung out that I was an Englishman, and a prisoner.
"Halloa! Who's that?" said a man, looking over the side of the
schooner. "What! Jack Williams, is that you?" The speaker, without
waiting for my reply, let himself down into the boat, and as he grasped
my hand, I recognised him as my old acquaintance Jacob Lyal.
Pointing to my arm, I told him that I had been wounded, and how ill I
was; and he at once sung out for a sling, and in another minute I was
safely placed on the deck of the vessel.
The captain of the schooner then ordered the Frenchmen into the boat,
and putting some of his people in her, she was dropped astern. I don't
know what he said to the Frenchmen, but they seemed far from contented
with the change of lot. I learned afterwards that he wanted the boat to
go in and cut out some French merchantmen.
The schooner had a surgeon on board, and when the captain heard the
account I gave Lyal of my late adventures, he directed that I should be
immediately placed under his charge. I flesh, as soon as the fever
abated, I got rapidly well and fit for duty.
The schooner was, I found, the _Black Joke_, belonging to the island of
Guernsey. Lyal so worked on my imagination, by the accounts he gave of
the life of a privateer's-man, and the prize-money to be made, that he
soon persuaded me to enter aboard her. There cannot be the shadow of a
doubt that I ought to have gone back, by the first opportunity, to join
my own ship; though, of course, I knew that, under the circumstances of
the case, I ran very little fear of punishment by not doing so, should I
at any time happen to fall in with her. The schooner was a very large
vessel of her class, and mounted sixteen 6-pounders, with a crew of some
eighty men or more. Captain Savage, who commanded her, was a bold
dashing fellow, but he cared nothing for honour, or glory, or
patriotism. He had only one object in view in fighting--it was to make
money. Privateering was the shortest and easiest way he knew of, and as
his professional knowledge and experience fitted him for the life, he
took the command of the _Black Joke_. His first officer, Mr Le
Gosselen, was just the man for the sort of work to be done. He was a
strongly-built, short, bull-necked man, and a first-rate seaman; but
whatever human sympathies he might have had in his youth had all
apparently been washed out of him.
The schooner had only left Guernsey, after a refit, the day before I was
taken on board her. I had been a fortnight in her before any prize of
consequence was made. A few coasters had been surprised by means of the
fishing-boat, but their cargoes were of very little value, and only two
or three were worth sending into port. Of the rest, some were sunk, and
others allowed to continue on their voyage, after anything worth having
was taken out of them. The time had at last arrived when Captain Savage
hoped to fall in with a convoy of French ships coming home from the West
Indies. For a week or more we cruised about in the latitude they would
probably be found in, but we saw nothing of them.
At length, at daybreak one morning, several sail were seen hull down to
the northward, and steering east. The wind was about south, so we stood
away close-hauled towards them, in order to reconnoitre them more
perfectly. As the sun rose, and we drew nearer, many more appeared,
their white sails dotting the ocean far and wide.
"That's what we've been looking for, my lads!" cried the captain,
pointing them out to the crew. "If we get hold of two or three of those
fellows, we shall soon line our pockets with gold."
A loud cheer fore and aft showed that the speech suited the taste of his
hearers. Great, indeed, was the contrast in the discipline between a
privateer and a man-of-war. There was plenty of flogging, and swearing,
and rope's-ending, which the officers considered necessary to keep up
their authority; but there was also a free-and-easy swagger, and an
independent air about the men, which showed that they considered
themselves on a par with their officers, and that they could quit the
vessel whenever they fancied a change. At first I did not at all like
it, but by degrees I got accustomed to the life, and imitated the
example of all around.
We stood on cautiously towards the Frenchmen, the officers' glasses
being continually turned towards them, to watch for any suspicious
movement in the fleet. The captain had no doubt what they were, and all
day we continued hovering about them, like a bird of prey ready to
pounce down on its victim. We got near enough to make out a man-of-war
in the van, and another in the centre of the fleet, while a number of
stragglers brought up the rear. Of some of these latter we hoped to
make prizes. Having ascertained this much, we stood off again from
them, that, should our appearance have raised their suspicions, they
might be again set to rest. Marking well the course they were steering,
we knew that we should easily again fall in with them.
The nights, to favour our enterprise, had been very dark, so that we
might hope to pick out several, provided no noise was made, without
being discovered. We waited anxiously for night to put our enterprise
into execution; and as the sun set, we crowded all sail to come up with
the convoy. Few vessels could surpass the schooner in her sailing
qualities, which made her peculiarly fitted for the sort of work she was
employed in.
By midnight, we made out on our starboard-bow several sail, which we had
no doubt were some of the sternmost vessels of the French convoy; so we
stood towards them without hesitation. If any of the Frenchmen caught
sight of the privateer, they probably took her for one of their own
fleet. Slowly, their dark, misty-like forms glided by, while we watched
them with eager eyes, wondering which the captain would select as our
first victim. At last came a large brig. She was somewhat high out of
the water, and her main-topgallant-mast had been carried away.
"That's the craft for us, boys!" cried Captain Savage, pointing her out.
"Her cargo's light, and probably the most valuable; and I doubt not
that she has some wealthy passengers with their jewel-boxes with them.
We will run them aboard, and try if we can't take them without firing a
shot!"
We had got to windward of the fleet, and the helm being put up, we edged
down towards the brig which it had been determined to take. In dead
silence we approached our victim. As we drew near, the stranger
observed us, and her people must have suspected that all was not right.
He hailed, and inquired what schooner we were.
"The French schooner _Concorde_," answered our captain, who knew that a
vessel of that name had been out in the West Indies. For a short time
the answer seemed to satisfy the Frenchmen; but seeing us approach still
nearer, they hailed again, and told us to keep off.
Captain Savage did not deign a reply, but our grappling-irons being
ready, our helm was put hard a starboard, we ran alongside the brig, and
had her fast locked in a deadly embrace.
Although the Frenchmen's suspicions had been aroused, they had made no
preparations to receive us; yet as we ran her on board, we saw that
there were numbers of people on her deck. "Follow me, my lads!" shouted
Mr Le Gosselen, who saw that to secure an easy victory there was no
time to be lost; and before any of the Frenchmen had time to stand to
their arms, some fifty of us had sprung on their deck and attacked them,
previously driving some overboard, others fore and aft, and the rest
below. The greater number of our opponents seemed to be soldiers, by
their dress and the way they fought. In vain their officers called to
them to stand firm, and tried to rally them to the last; they themselves
were pistolled or cut down, and in less than five minutes we were
masters of the whole deck, with the exception of the after-part of the
poop. Here a band of men stood firm, evidently surrounding a person of
superior rank. He fought like a lion, and was likely to delay our
victory, or to prevent it altogether. Seeing this, Captain Savage, who
was himself the best swordsman I ever met, calling twenty of us to
follow him, sprang on board over the quarter; and thus attacked in front
and on one side, the French officers were driven across the deck. A
blow from Captain Savage's cutlass brought their chief on his knee. At
that moment a piercing shriek arose high above the din of battle. How
mournful! how full of agony it sounded! We had not before perceived a
woman standing alone and unharmed among the wounded, the dead, and the
dying, for not one of those who had opposed us had escaped.
"Spare my father's life! hurt not more his grey hairs!" she cried out in
French.
"That depends on circumstances, mademoiselle," answered the captain of
the privateer. "Here, my lads; carry the lady and the old man on board
the schooner out of harm's way; we must secure the brig before we think
of anything else."
I was one of those to whom the captain spoke. I shall never forget the
grief and agony of the poor young lady as she bent over her father. He
was desperately wounded. I saw that he could not speak; but he still
breathed. We lifted him as gently as we could, and carried him aboard
the schooner, into the captain's cabin; we then assisted the young lady,
who followed eagerly, not knowing where she was going. All her thoughts
and feelings were concentrated on her father. We placed him on the
sofa, and I then went and called the surgeon to attend him. Mr
Blister's knowledge of his profession was very slight, and his practical
experience limited; but still he had some notion of binding up a wound,
and, at all events, he would treat a patient more gently than any of the
rough hands belonging to the schooner.
While what I have described was going on, the second officer, with a
dozen men under him, had been directed to clew-up the brig's sails, so
as to let her drop as much as possible astern of the rest of the fleet,
no others appearing to be following. This had been done; and we had
hopes that the flash of the pistols had not been seen, or the reports
heard by any of the vessels in advance.
Having obeyed the orders, I again went on board the brig. The deck was
now entirely in our possession. While some of our people were silencing
several of the French crew, who still madly held out below, I followed
the captain into the cabin. While we had been fighting on deck, others
of our crew had found their way there, and, mad with rage at the
opposition they had encountered, had spared neither age nor sex. I
cannot venture to describe the scene of horror and confusion. There
were several ladies, and their attendants, and children--among them,
infants in arms, or just able to lisp their parents' names. Already
they were in the power of my ruffian companions. Shrieks of despair,
cries for mercy rose from among them. Tables and chairs, and furniture
of all sorts, lay broken on the door. Several dead bodies lay at the
entrance of the cabin--officers, as was shown by their uniform; another
lay leaning against the bulkhead, gasping out his last breath. We had
discovered enough to show us why our capture was so crowded with people.
She was a merchantman, in which the governor of one of the islands,
together with his staff and their families, had taken their passage,
while a body of soldiers had likewise been put on board.
Captain Savage, to do him justice, when he found that the brig was
completely in his power, did his best to rescue her unfortunate
prisoners from further molestation, though in this he was but ill
seconded by his officers. Rushing in among the men, he ordered them on
deck, and to carry the dead bodies with them. One man refused to obey
him.
"Mutiny!" he exclaimed. "This is the way I put it down." He levelled
his pistol, and shot the man dead. "Here, take this fellow and heave
him overboard with the rest," he added, as the body fell to the deck.
I with others obeyed, for all saw the stern justice of the proceeding.
"My men," he continued, "we must make sail away from her as fast as
possible; for after what has occurred we can expect but little mercy
should we fall into the hands of our enemies."
By this proceeding the cabin was cleared, and the wretched inmates were
left in solitude, to mourn over their cruel fate. The captain placed
Lyal, and one or two of the more steady men, to guard the door. I
accompanied him on deck. Among the crew and passengers in that fierce
though short night-battle, more than half had fallen; and, contrary to
what is usually the case, the greater number had been killed. The rest,
many of whom were wounded, were collected forward, all of them with
their hands lashed behind their backs. They, believing themselves to
have been captured by pirates, fully expected to be put to death. Our
crew, when not actually executing the commands of the officers, were
engaged all the time in plundering. The ladies had been stripped of
their jewels, the officers of their watches and money; and every corner
of the ship was ransacked for plate and other valuables, while clothes
and private property of all sorts were laid hold of and carried off; and
the men, even in the midst of their pillage, amused themselves by
putting on officers' coats, silk waistcoats, and cocked-hats.
The captain now ordered the vessels to be separated. He, with the
second mate and about forty men, remained in the brig, to commence the
more serious work of examining the cargo; while the rest, greatly to
their discontent, with about two-thirds of the male prisoners, were
ordered aboard the schooner. The two vessels then made sail to the
southward, on a course which would enable us, if we wished, to run down
on the following night and pick out another prize.
The examination of our capture was proceeded with very rapidly, and
found of great value. The governor was carrying home a large fortune,
much of it in specie; and the brig being an old trader, and considered a
fine vessel, many merchants had shipped money by her. The poor ladies
were left in possession of the cabin, and the captain ordered what food
could be found to be taken down to them, while he directed the second
mate, who was rather kinder-hearted than the first, to take charge of
her, and to carry her into Guernsey. All things being arranged, the
captain, leaving a prize-crew aboard the brig, returned to the schooner,
and I accompanied him. The surgeon met us as we stepped aboard. The
captain asked for the old governor.
"Why, I suspect he will slip through our fingers. I have no power to
keep him," answered the surgeon.
"We must do what we can for the old man," observed the captain, with
more feeling than I thought he possessed. "For his daughter's sake, I
hope he won't die. What can she do, left alone in the world? Williams,
you seem to understand the sort of thing, go in and see what you can
do."
I obeyed the order gladly. I entered the cabin. Already was the poor
girl left alone in the world. Her father's corpse lay on the sofa, and
she had fallen in a swoon across it.
I did not go and call the surgeon. I knew that he did not feel for her,
and could not help her. So, lifting her gently up, I removed the
corpse, which I covered with a flag, and placed her on the sofa instead.
I then got water and sprinkled it on her face, and bathed her temples.
The captain came in, and found me thus engaged.
"Where's the old man?" he exclaimed, looking astonished.