“At this time the French fleet was ready for sea, and I experienced the
most painful thoughts; here I was, an Englishman by birth and feelings,
about to be forced to fight against my countrymen, though determined in
my own mind when the moment arrived I would refuse to do so, and take
the consequences. As long as my duty consisted in aiding to work the
ship, or any seaman’s duty, I would do it willingly. At times I felt
sanguine of being able to escape onboard an English ship. Some days
after leaving Brest, it was my extreme good fortune to save the life
of Captain Renaudin’s son. This fine young boy was full of life and
spirit; his father was a widower, who doted on him; and Alfred was his
only child.
“He used frequently to play about the quarter-deck, and would manage to
climb up the mizen rigging, though his father usually prevented him.
One day the ship going through the water at the rate of seven knots,
and a cross swell, Captain Renaudin was writing in his cabin, when the
young boy came on deck, and shortly after began climbing up the mizen
rigging. I was then employed doing some trifling job to the ratlines,
when the boy passed me, laughing. I begged him earnestly to come back,
and even called to the officer on the quarter-deck. He heard me, and
looking up, beheld young Renaudin.
“‘My dear boy, come down,’ exclaimed the lieutenant, ‘it’s naughty of
you to go there. Your papa will be angry.’
“At that moment the ship rolled to port; somehow the child lost his
footing, and fell; I grasped his garments, but lost my footing; and
striking my feet forcibly against the rigging, we both fell into the
sea. I did this to avoid touching the side, which would have killed us
both. I had been a good swimmer from a very early period, so I kept the
child’s head up. Oh, what a brave child that was—he was all alive, and
without fear, notwithstanding the terrible shock with which we came
against the water, going under several feet. A scene of indescribable
confusion ensued on board the ship. The father wanted to plunge into
the sea, though he was incapable of swimming; but the first lieutenant
held him, saying—
“‘There is no fear; that brave youth swims like a duck; the cutter is
out, and will reach them in a few minutes.’
“This little dialogue, whilst the ship was hove in stays, was related
to me afterwards by the first lieutenant. In a few minutes the boat was
lowered and manned, and in less than ten minutes we were lifted into
her. Young Renaudin put his arms round my neck, and kissing me, said—
“‘Papa will always love you, and make you rich; and I will love you
dearly. I was a very naughty boy.’
“Oh, how the father pressed the child to his heart, the tears streaming
down his cheeks! he shook my hand with fervour, merely saying—
“‘Go, change your clothes; I owe you my boy’s life.’
“The next day I was sent for to the quarter-deck; the first lieutenant
came up to me, saying I was to follow him to the captain’s state-room.
Alfred Renaudin, nothing the worse for his dip, rushed to me, and threw
his arms round my neck, saying—
“‘Mind, papa, what you promised me, and I’ll never be naughty again.’
“‘I owe you my child’s life,’ said Captain Renaudin, looking at me
with great attention, and, I thought, some surprise. ‘I find you are
entered on the ship’s books as Julian Coulancourt—is that your name?’
“‘No, Monsieur; Coulancourt is my mother’s name. Mine is Julian Arden.
I am an Englishman by birth.’
“‘How is that?’ exclaimed the Captain; ‘there is but one family in
France of the name of Coulancourt, and a high family it is. If your
mother was a Coulancourt, how do you bear the name of Arden?’
“I explained as briefly as possible, to the great surprise of the
Captain and his first officer.
“‘Yours, and your unfortunate mother’s and sister’s fate,’ said Captain
Renaudin, with emotion, ‘is a sad specimen of the mad acts committed by
monsters, for I will not call them men. I believe every word you have
told me. I regret you are of English birth, for I will not insult you
by even supposing you would fight against your countrymen. My intention
was to place you on the quarter-deck. Now I cannot do so; but I will
remove you from your present position, till I have an opportunity
of restoring you to your country. As you are entered on the ship’s
books, I must continue you on them, but you shall remain with my son,
nominally his tutor; thus in any engagement with your countrymen, you
will have nothing to reproach yourself with. To me you will always be
dear, for you have saved that which is dearer to me than life.’
“From this noble, excellent man I received every kindness and
attention. I was supplied with proper garments by one of the
midshipmen, and allotted a berth in the Captain’s cabin for young
Renaudin and myself, and had all my meals at the Captain’s table. Some
of my old associates in the forecastle viewed my transition from the
galley to the Captain’s cabin with envy and sneers; they imputed my
exaltation to the simple act of saving the Captain’s son; but such was
not the case; had I been of low birth, and one of the crew, he would
have amply rewarded me, but never have admitted me to an intercourse
with himself and his officers; who, hearing my story, considered me
their equal, and were exceedingly kind.
“Monsieur Renaudin was a man of high birth and refined mind. We often
spoke of the horrors enacted in France during the Reign of Terror, and
shuddered to think of Frenchmen having degenerated into demons. He
knew my mother’s husband, the Duke de Coulancourt, and had heard of my
beloved parent’s cruel misfortunes, but had no knowledge of her fate.
He thought it too probable she and my little sister had perished under
the monstrous rule of Collet d’Herbois.
“I became attached to Alfred Renaudin, and did all in my power to
instruct him; fortunately, before my family became victims to the
Revolution, every pains had been taken with my education, so, though
scarcely seventeen, I may, without vanity, say that I had profited
by the masters I had. I will pass over a period of sixteen months,
and come to the eventful morning when the French fleet, of which the
Vengeance was one, was attacked by the British fleet under Lord Howe.
Of this tremendous and glorious action, ending in victory to the
English, I can only speak as it affected the Vengeance. I requested
Captain Renaudin’s permission to remain on the quarter-deck. He
hesitated, saying, ‘My dear young friend, you will be risking life
uselessly;’ but I prevailed. I need not say my heart beat quicker as
I gazed out over the broad ocean, and beheld it covered with noble
vessels, all preparing for a deadly strife. I counted five-and-twenty
stately ships; but no doubt you know all about that memorable fight,
Captain O’Loughlin, better than I can relate it to you.”
“Yes,” returned O’Loughlin, “but never from an eye-witness; moreover,
there are some doubts thrown upon the exact cause of the foundering of
the Vengeance. I pray you, therefore, to omit no particular that you
witnessed.”
Julian Arden then continued—
“I said I counted five-and-twenty stately ships, all under full canvas,
for the weather was very moderate, and the sea smooth. The ships,
shortly after sighting each other distinctly, reduced their canvas
to single-reefed topsails. The French ships kept signalling, and
presently, as they read the signals, they all drew up in line, east
and west. On our starboard quarter was the Achille, on the other the
Patriote, or the Jeannapes, at this moment I forget which; but as I
gazed in breathless anxiety, the breeze rapidly freshened, and then
the English ships filled, and stood right for our line, and, as it
appeared to me, each ship singling out its antagonist. I do not know
the name of the ship, but she was by far the largest in the British
fleet——”
“That was the Queen Charlotte,” said Captain O’Loughlin, “Lord Howe’s
ship of one hundred guns.”
“Ah, now I remember, so it was,” said Julian. “She appeared to be
bearing down right upon us; but suddenly she broke off from her course,
and the Vengeance opened fire upon her, which she did not return; but
immediately setting her top-gallant sails, shot past us, and ranged up
abreast of the Achille, who at once commenced a fierce fire upon her,
and immediately after, the action became general, and to my unpractised
eye, a scene of intense confusion. What with the thundering of the
cannon, the flapping of the monstrous sails, as the several ships
tacked or hove-to, the cheers from some of the British ships, and
the thunder of the huge blocks, as the sheets and tacks, cut by the
balls, allowed them to dash wildly about, knocking against yards and
masts, altogether created an astounding din. Still there was an intense
excitement in the scene, that left no thought of danger to intrude
itself. Thus the action continued: the Vengeance, most admirably
handled, her captain as cool and as calm as at his dinner-table. Two of
his officers were struck down by his side, and splinters were knocked
about like chips, when I suddenly observed a ship—the first lieutenant
told me was the Brunswick—steer directly between us and the Achille.
I then heard Captain Renaudin give his orders to close; the Vengeance
shot ahead, there no longer remained an opening, and thus the Brunswick
ran foul of us, with a great shock. My first idea was to run up the
rigging and get into the rigging of the English ship, but I should, at
such a moment, no doubt have lost my life.
“In this state our yards and rigging were entangled. We bore along
through the water, the men of the Vengeance keeping up an incessant
fire of musketry, and from her thirty-six pounders, loaded with old
nails, and jagged pieces of iron, a terrible fire was poured into the
Brunswick. I had just mounted upon a large case near the flag-staff,
and from thence I could see on the deck of the Brunswick where the
shot told with terrible effect. It made my heart throb painfully. The
next instant I saw the Achille bearing down also to the Brunswick, but
the Achille had only her fore and mizen-mast standing, and a terrible
and well-directed broadside from the Brunswick totally dismasted her.
Strange to say, all this time we were locked together.
“The crew of the Brunswick taking advantage of the rolling of the
Vengeance, depressed the muzzles of their guns, and fired into us
most destructive broadsides, ripping and tearing our sides terribly;
but the Vengeance kept up so incessant a fire from the tops, and from
our decks, that it was utterly impossible for me to get on board the
Brunswick. A violent squall striking both ships, they tore asunder,
snapping ropes, rigging, and yards, like packthread. For nearly two
hours those two great ships had been locked together, the whole time
keeping up a terrible fire. It was now that we received what I may call
the mortal wound that caused the Vengeance to founder. Attacked by the
Brunswick, and another seventy-four-gun ship at the same time, our
gallant commander exerted all his skill, assisted by the courage of his
crew, to contend against these odds, but the British ships were also
worked with consummate skill; a shot struck our rudder, another shot
knocked a huge hole under our counter, through which the water rushed
in with great violence. As I was gazing intently on the scene, a ball
struck the case on which I stood, breaking it to atoms, and throwing me
violently against the starboard bulwarks, but I was quite sensible,
and very little hurt. The state of the Vengeance was now terrible,
numbers of her crew were now lying dead and dying, from the fire of
three ships. I caught a glimpse of Captain Renaudin standing on a
carronade vehemently cheering on his crew. Just then, as I was getting
on my feet, young Alfred Renaudin rushed out of the cabin, and seeing
me just rising, rushed with a cry to my side, saying—
“‘Oh! Julian, where is _mon cher_ papa? Are you wounded?’
“‘No, not wounded, only a little stunned; but you must not stay here,’
seeing his gaze fixed upon the body of a man lying dead within a yard
or two of us. ‘Come below.’
“‘No, no,’ cried the child, ‘I’m no coward, but I am too little to
fight.’ As I was leading him to the cabin, Captain Renaudin and his
first lieutenant came up, followed by two of the crew; they unfurled
a flag as a signal that the Vengeance surrendered. Captain Renaudin
looked serious, if not distressed.
“‘We are sinking fast,’ he said, as he embraced his boy. ‘Mon Dieu, we
have lost the ship, but we have done our duty;’ and in truth they had.
The Vengeance had fought three line-of-battle ships. The firing had
ceased on board the Brunswick. She had lost her mizen-mast and all her
boats; so had the Vengeance, all but one small one. There was great
excitement on board, for all knew they were sinking.
“Into the small boat Captain Renaudin desired me to get, and take his
son with me and four men, and pull on board the nearest frigate that
could afford assistance to save the crew. I slid down a rope first into
the boat ready to receive young Alfred, but six or seven men slung down
the rope, and one with his knife cut the warp.
“‘Rascal!’ I exclaimed, ‘what did you do that for? there are neither
oars nor sail in the boat,’ and she drifted away from the Vengeance.
“‘Hold your jaw,’ said one of the men, ‘you skulking rascal, or I’ll
stick my knife in you.’ I knocked the man over the side and shouted to
the Vengeance, but the next moment a chance shot struck the boat, and
cut her nearly in two, plunging us all into the water. As I scrambled
up on the bottom of the boat, I beheld the main and fore-mast of the
Vengeance fall, carrying away the mizen, but I had scarcely gained a
firm hold on the boat’s bottom, when a wild and never-to-be-forgotten
cheer startled me, and attracted my attention, despite my awkward
situation. I looked in the direction of the sound. The cheer came
from the lion-hearted crew of the poor Vengeance. She was going down;
one moment she surged upwards; again another cheer. A tricolour was
waved in triumph as she disappeared with her living freight of brave,
devoted men beneath the waves.
“I was horror-struck; I looked at those clinging to the broken boat;
three were there, the others had been killed by the shot; but the
savage culotte, who had threatened to stick me with his knife was one,
and he glared at me savagely.
“‘Knock that spy and lubber off,’ said he to the two men near me; ‘she
won’t bear up us four long.’ The ruffian himself edged towards me, and
struck at me with his clenched fist; he had lost his knife; but I was
strong and active, and not easily frightened, and in the struggle I
knocked him off, and somehow he got under the boat, for we saw no more
of him. The other two cursed me frightfully, but they could not swim,
and they were afraid to move, as the boat was anything but a steady
support. I looked around, hoping to have a chance of being picked up by
some English vessel. The engagement still continued, and several shots
tore up the water close beside us, and one stray ball struck the water,
and then bounded right over us. At no great distance lay a French ship
totally dismasted, but a shout from the two men in the boat caused
me to turn round, and then I perceived a frigate, with the tricolour
flying, coming right down for us. She perceived us in time, and backing
her topsails under our lee, we dropped down to her. She hailed to know
who we were, and the men replied, ‘We belong to the Vengeance.’ Ropes
were thrown to us, and after a struggle we were hauled upon the deck.
The two rascals were no sooner on the deck of the frigate, than they
accused me of drowning their comrade by striking him down, when he
was trying to save himself by clinging to the shattered boat. I soon
found I had got amongst a crew of regular _sans culotte_, most violent,
out-and-out Republicans. The frigate was the Volentier, which had
taken no part in the fight. She was proceeding to Brest, with the news
of the result of the engagement between the two fleets. Her captain,
formerly the skipper of a merchant craft, was the greatest brute I ever
encountered. He ordered me, without asking a single question, to be put
in irons; this was done, and I lay in my wet garments the whole of the
night. To attempt to disclose my being an Englishman would have insured
my condemnation. Fortunately, not one of the officers on board the
Vengeance had betrayed my not being a Frenchman, therefore I was so far
safe.
“The next day I was hauled up and brought before the Captain, who was
pacing the quarter-deck half-drunk. Fortunately for me, his first
lieutenant was a humane man, and a gentleman, and as I afterwards
found, had served with great disgust under Captain Baudet, and was
resolved, when the frigate reached Brest, to get an exchange into
another ship.
“‘So,’ said the Captain, stepping close to me, and staring into my
face, his eyes bloodshot and his face purple with repeated potations;
‘so, you young rascal, you murdered your comrade; instead of helping a
drowning man, you finished him.’
“‘Begging your pardon, monsieur——’
“‘Sacre tonnerre! you villain, how dare you, you scum of the gaols, how
dare you beg my pardon? I’ll commence by giving you a couple of dozen,
that will teach you to speak respectfully to your superior. Take him
away, and——’
“‘Stay,’ said Lieutenant Veillot, calmly and quietly; and, turning to
his commander—who seemed somewhat in awe of his lieutenant, and for a
good reason, he could not work his ship without him, and had no more
notion of bringing her into action than a school-boy—he said some few
words to the captain, who looked sulky, but at length said, ‘Eh, bien,
you can do so.’ Lieutenant Veillot then said, ‘Send those two men aft
belonging to the Vengeance.’ The two rascals came swaggering up, and
then stood eyeing me with looks of malice and triumph.
“‘Now, harkee, my men,’ said the Lieutenant; ‘if you do not give me a
true statement, and answer the questions I ask you honestly, you will
pay for it, and get your backs well scratched; for I strongly suspect
you are telling a lie when you say this young stripling murdered your
comrade. Now answer me; what is the name of this youth?’
“‘He was entered in the ship’s books, Julian Coulancourt.’
“‘Well, what was he—was he before the mast?’
“‘Yes,’ returned the men, ‘he was before the mast, rated second class.’
“‘Then how comes he to be attired in plain clothes and garments only
worn by gentlemen? He did not dress in that manner working as a common
sailor.’
“‘He jumped overboard—any one of us would have done the same—to save
Captain Renaudin’s son; and the captain, to reward him, gave him those
clothes, and kept him to attend on his son.’
“‘Is this a correct statement, young man?’ aid the Lieutenant, turning
to me.
“‘Very nearly so, monsieur,’ I returned. ‘Captain Renaudin, finding I
was connected with the Duke de Coulancourt’s family——’
“‘Why, curse your impudence!’ burst out Captain Baudet, ‘there are no
dukes now; the guillotine has weeded our poor country of all those
gentry. There, I have had quite enough of this examination; I don’t
care a sous whether you murdered your comrade or not—it won’t bring
him to life again. You were entered on the books of the Vengeance as
seaman, second class; go forward and do your duty; and, harkee ye, if
I catch you skulking, or playing the gentleman, I’ll make your back a
curiosity to look at. Go,’ and the brute walked off.
“Lieutenant Veillot bit his lip. ‘Go, my lad,’ said he kindly to me;
‘do your duty, and you need not be afraid. When we get to Brest things
may turn out differently; you shall not be punished for nothing, at all
events.’
“Here was a miserable prospect for me; obliged to herd with the very
worst class of seamen, the very refuse of the prisons, whereas the
Vengeance, excepting in a very few cases indeed, were thorough good
seamen. However, there was no help for it. I consoled myself with the
reflection that, on arriving at Brest, through the kindness of the
first lieutenant, I might get exchanged into another ship, or manage
to get away, and trust to my thorough knowledge of French to escape
detection, and get to Paris. The day before we reached Brest, in a
violent squall, one of the sailors saved from the Vengeance fell from
the foreyards and fractured his skull. Before he died he stated to
the surgeon that his accusation against me was false; that it was his
comrade intended killing me, and that, in my defence, I struck him into
the water.
“This confession did me no good with our brutal captain. He only swore
he’d watch me the sharper, as I was an accursed spawn of an aristocrat.
Nevertheless, it was satisfactory to me, this confession, as many of
the crew of the Volentier treated me less unkindly.
“Misfortune still persecuted me. For some days the first lieutenant
complained of illness, but struggled against it. The day we entered
Brest he was seized with fever, and became slightly delirious, and was
taken ashore to the naval hospital. Captain Baudet, with a mocking
laugh, said to me the next day, as I happened to pass near him on some
duty I was put to do—
“‘So, you young aristocrat, you have lost your friend. Never mind,
sacre Dieu! I’ll take care of you. You don’t quit this ship; I’ll have
you closely watched. I have not seen your delicate back yet, but don’t
despair.’
“It was with difficulty I could keep my temper, but I made no reply.
I was watched with a vengeance. This low-bred ruffian seemed to have
a vast delight in inflicting indignities and insults upon any one
he conceived an aristocrat by birth. He thought I was one of the
Coulancourt family, and the most degrading duties were given me to
perform. I could have no redress. No matter how degrading the tasks, I
performed them, because I knew the wretch would inflict an indignity
I could scarcely survive. However, all attempts at escape were put
an end to by our being sent to the coast of Africa, with the fifty
gun frigate Experiment, two other ships, and two brig corvettes. We
sailed on an expedition against the town of Sierra Leone. Fortunately
for me, our brutal and half-mad commander drank himself into a fit
of _delirium tremens_, and remained confined to his cabin, under the
care of the surgeon, till we arrived, after a boisterous voyage, off
the coast, and shortly after the ships commenced a heavy fire upon the
town, which offered no resistance whatever. The second day the British
ensign was hauled down as a token of surrender; nevertheless, the
two frigates kept up an incessant fire into the streets of the town,
as we afterwards heard, killing and wounding many. At length it was
resolved to land. I was rejoiced to hear this, for come what would, I
resolved to escape, and take my chance of fortune. Our little squadron
was commanded by a Monsieur Theodore Allemand. Each ship told off a
certain number, and as luck would have it, I formed one from our ship.
We had already lost many men by the pestiferous climate, and had many
sick; amongst the sick was our captain, or I do not think I should have
formed one of the landing party. Our surgeon was of opinion that the
captain would not live, and the first lieutenant, who would take the
command if he died, felt rather anxious that he should not; the crew
would not, however, have gained much by the exchange. Everything being
prepared, the men told off into the boats. We pulled in for the town,
and a miserable-looking place it appeared. Before the boat’s keels
touched the beach the town was totally abandoned by its inhabitants;
so that when we entered, the officers were not able to restrain the
men, and, with a loud shout, away they went, breaking into the houses,
plundering and destroying everything, even setting fire to the houses.
Watching my opportunity, I dashed out through the back window of a
large house, threw away my musket, and made directly for the woods.
When I reached cover, regardless of reptiles or wild beasts, I threw
myself into a thicket, and then fell, somewhat exhausted by the run I
had had. From where I was I could see the smoke of the burning town,
for they wantonly set fire to the church, the company’s warehouses, and
all the buildings belonging to the English residents. As I lay hid in
this kind of jungle, I began to think what I should do; where had the
inhabitants fled to, where procure food. It was the month of September.
As I lay, perfectly still, I suddenly caught the sound of voices not
very far from me. I listened, and became convinced I heard females
speaking. The jungle was extremely thick and entangled. As I cautiously
moved on towards the sounds, I distinctly heard a man’s voice, and
even distinguished the words, ‘Don’t be alarmed; it’s nothing.’ ‘Ah!’
said I, joyfully, ‘here are some of the English inhabitants of the
town, hiding.’ So I sprang up, and, without hesitation, pushed my way
through the bushes, and, thrusting aside a dense mass of vegetation, a
man started up, presented a pistol, and fired without a word of warning.
“This was rather an uncourteous mode of salutation, but as it only
knocked my hat off, and raised the skin of my head, I was well
satisfied; but, thinking I might be favoured with a second, I called
out, ‘I am English—a fugitive from the French ships.’
“‘Why the deuce didn’t you say so?’ said the man; ‘I might have killed
you.’
“I now, to my surprise, found myself face to face with the party
hiding; besides the man there were two females, Europeans, and two
black girls. The man was attired in a light European dress made of
cotton; he advanced towards me with a drawn sword in his hand, whilst
the females, two young and lovely girls, stood half-frightened,
half-bewildered. The Englishman said—
“‘It was very foolish, young man, for you to burst in upon us so
rashly. Knowing the rascally Frenchmen were plundering and firing the
town, I mistook you, as well I might, seeing your dress, for one of
them. If I had mortally wounded you, and then found out my mistake, it
would have made me miserable.’
“I easily perceived by his manner and tone that the stranger was
decidedly a gentleman. I begged to apologise, stating that my family
had suffered in France during the worst days of the revolution; that
I had been imprisoned, and afterwards forced to serve on board a
man-of-war, but was determined not to fight against my countrymen, and
that the moment I landed with the party attacking the town, I fled.
“‘Cursed set of cowardly buccaneers!’ said the stranger. ‘Come, I am
rejoiced, since you are an Englishman, and no harm has happened, that I
can give you shelter. Come here, Cherry, my girl,’ turning to the two
timid but really lovely girls, that stood gazing at me with surprise.
One of the girls came timidly forward, and then her father, for such
the stranger was, said—‘Do you think we may trust this young man, and
let him share our shelter? he’s an Englishman, though somewhat like one
of those buccaneering Frenchmen in attire.’
“The young girl blushed, saying—‘Oh, yes, father, I should surely do
so. What else but to seek safety could bring him here?’
“‘Thank you, miss,’ said I, ‘for your good opinion; I assure you, you
shall never repent any kindness shown me. I have hitherto suffered from
tyranny and oppression, but kindness I have rarely experienced.’
‘Well, girls, he shall have my protection, though those cursed
Frenchmen have knocked down our house, and left us only the canopy of
heaven for a roof; besides, we must get out of this place before night,
or some hungry lion may possibly intrude. So come, sit down; I do not
think there is the slightest chance of the enemy penetrating further
than the town, so you are safe enough. I see clearly you are, or were,
in a better station of life than your dress denotes. You will have
time enough to tell me all about yourself. I have an intelligent negro
watching the movements of the French; when he comes back and reports
that they have returned on board their ship, we will think of moving.’
So we all seated ourselves on the dried grass in heaps, gathered by
the two black attendants. These two natives were far from ugly, though
certainly not provided with a superfluity of garments.
“‘Now girls,’ said the stranger, ‘let us have some refreshment and
wine,’ and at once a large hamper was unpacked. The stranger’s two
daughters, losing their timidity, laughingly displayed their stores,
and most kindly invited me to share their repast. We were in a nice
cool, shady place, well protected from the sun’s rays, otherwise the
heat would have been oppressive. Some roast fowls and bread, and fruit,
and good wine, made an excellent repast, and, before it was finished,
I had become quite friendly and familiar with the two charming sisters
and their kind-hearted father. The young ladies were attired in loose
cotton dresses, simply drawn in at the waist, and wore rice straw hats.
Their father was a man rather above the middle size, broad-shouldered
and deep-chested, with very handsome, pleasing features, dark hair
and beard, and in years about forty-five. His two daughters were, as
he afterwards told me, seventeen and fifteen. The eldest was a lovely
girl, and so fair, I judged she could not have been long exposed to
a southern sun. The negro girls were very young, with slender, fine
forms, and dazzling white teeth; of their dress, the less said the
better—it was the attire of the country, and no one thought anything
about it.”
A summons on deck, a large ship being in sight, put an end to Julian
Arden’s story for that night, and all went upon deck.