Description of the Coast of Martinique—Popped at for peeping—No heroism in making oneself a target—Board a miniature Noah's Ark, under Yankee colours—Capture a French slaver—Parrot soup in lieu of mock turtle.
We found orders at Barbadoes to cruise off Martinique, to prevent supplies being furnished to the garrison of the island, and we proceeded there immediately. I do not know anything more picturesque than running down the east side of this beautiful island—the ridges of hill spreading down to the water's edge, covered with the freshest verdure, divided at the base by small bays, with the beach of dazzling white sand, and where the little coasting vessels employed to bring the sugar from the neighbouring estates were riding at anchor. Each hill, at its adjutment towards the sea, crowned with a fort, on which waved the tri-colour—certainly, in appearance, one of the most war-like flags in the world.
On the third morning we had rounded the Diamond Rock, and were scudding along the lee-side of the island just opening Fort Royal bay, when hauling rather too close round its eastern entrance, formed by a promontory called Solomon's Point, which was covered with brush-wood, we found ourselves nearer than agreeable to a newly constructed battery. A column of smoke was poured along the blue water, and it was followed by the whizzing of a shot, which passed through our boom main sail, first cutting away the dog-vane, which was close to old Swinburne's head, as he stood on the carronade, conning the brig. I was at dinner in the cabin with O'Brien and the first lieutenant.
"Where the devil have they got the brig now?" said O'Brien, rising from his chair, and going on deck.
We both followed; but before we were on deck, three or four more shot passed between the masts. "If you please, sir," said the master's mate in charge of the deck, whose name was O'Farrell, "the battery has opened upon us."
"Thank you very much for your information, Mr O'Farrell," replied O'Brien; "but the French have reported it before you. May I ask if you've any particular fancy to be made a target of, or if you think that His Majesty's brigRattlesnakewas sent here to be riddled for nothing at all? Starboard the helm, quartermaster."
The helm was put up, and the brig was soon run out of the fire; not, however, until a few more shot were pitched close to us, and one carried away the foretopmast backstay.
"Now, Mr O'Farrell," replied O'Brien, "I only wish to point out to you that I trust neither I nor any one in this ship cares a fig about the whizzing of a shot or two about our ears when there is anything to be gained for it, either for ourselves or for our country; but I do care a great deal about losing even the leg or the arm, much more the life of any of my men, when there's no occasion for it; so, in future, recollect it's no disgrace to keep out of the way of a battery when all the advantage is on their side. I've always observed that chance shots pick out the best men. Lower down the mainsail, and send the sailmakers aft to repair it."
When O'Brien returned to the cabin I remained on deck, for it was my afternoon watch; and although O'Farrell had permission to look out for me, I did not choose to go down again. The bay of Fort Royal was now opened, and the view was extremely beautiful. Swinburne was still on the carronade; and as I knew he had been there before, I applied to him for information as to thelocale. He told me the names of the batteries above the town, pointed out Fort Edward and Negro Point, and particularly Pigeon Island, the battery at the top of which wore the appearance of a mural crown.
"It's well I remember that place, Mr Simple," said he. "It was in '94 when I was last here. The sodgers had 'sieged it for a whole month, and were about to give it up, 'cause they couldn't get a gun up on that 'ere hill you see there. So poor Captain Faulkner says, 'There's many a clear head under a tarpaulin hat, and I'll give any chap five doubloons that will hitch up a twenty-four pounder to the top of that hill.' Not quite so easy a matter, as you may perceive from here, Mr Simple."
"It certainly appears to me to have been almost impossible, Swinburne," replied I.
"And so it did to most of us, Mr Simple; but there was one Dick Smith, mate of a transport, who had come on shore, and he steps out, saying, 'I've been looking at your men handling that gun, and my opinion is, that if you gets a butt, crams in a carronade, well woulded up, and fill it with old junk and rope yarns, you might parbuckle it up to the very top.' So Captain Faulkner pulls out five doubloons, and gives them to him, saying, 'You deserve the money for the hint, even if it don't succeed.' But it did succeed, Mr Simple; and the next day, to their surprise, we opened fire on the French beggars, and soon brought their boasting down. One of the French officers, after he was taken prisoner, axed me how we had managed to get the gun up there; but I wasn't going to blow the gaff, so I told him, as a great secret, that we got it up with a kite, upon which he opened all his eyes, and crying 'sacre bleu!' walked away, believing all I said was true; but a'n't that a sail we have opened with the point, Mr Simple?"
It was so, and I reported it to O'Brien, who came up and gave chase. In half an hour we were alongside of her, when she hoisted American colours, and proved to be a brigantine laden up to her gunwale, which was not above a foot out of the water. Her cargo consisted of what the Americans callednotions; that is, in English, an assorted cargo. Half-way up her masts down to the deck were hung up baskets containing apples, potatoes, onions, and nuts of various kinds. Her deck was crowded with cattle, sheep, pigs, and donkeys. Below was full of shingle, lumber, and a variety of different articles too numerous to mention. I boarded her, and asked the master whither he was bound?
"Why," replied he, "I am bound for a market—nowise particular; and I guess you won't stop me."
"Not if all's right," replied I; "but I must look at your log."
"Well, I've a notion there's no great objection to that," replied he; and he brought it up on deck.
I had no great time to examine it, but I could not help being amused at the little I did read, such as—"Horse latitudes—water very short— killed white-faced bullock—caught a dolphin, and ate him for dinner— broached molasses cask No. I, letter A. Fine night—saw little round things floating on the water—took up a bucket full—guessed they were pearls—judge I guessed wrong, only little Portuguese men-of-war—threw them overboard again—heard a scream, guessed it was a mermaid—looked out, saw nothing. Witnessed a very strange rippling ahead—calculated it might be the sea-serpent—stood on to see him plain, and nearly ran on Barbuda. Hauled off again—met a Britisher—treatedpolitely."
Having overhauled his log, I then begged to overhaul his men to ascertain if there were any Englishmen among his crew. This was not pleasing, and he grumbled very much; but they were ordered aft. One man I was satisfied was an Englishman, and told him so; but the man as well as the master persisted to the contrary. Nevertheless, I resolved to take him on board for O'Brien to decide, and ordered him into the boat.
"Well, if you will use force, I can't help it. My decks an't clear as you see, or else—I tell you what, Mr Lieutenant, your vessel there will be anotherHermione, I've a notion, if you presses true-blooded Yankees; and, what's more, the States will take it up, as sure as there's snakes in Virginny."
Notwithstanding this remonstrance, I took them on board to O'Brien, who had a long conversation with the American in the cabin. When they returned on deck he was allowed to depart with his man, and we again made sail. I had the first watch that night, and as we ran along the coast I perceived a vessel under the high land in what the sailors called thedoldrums; that is, almost becalmed, or her sails flapping about in every direction with the eddying winds. We steered for her, and were very soon in the same situation, not more than a quarter of a mile from her. The quarter-boat was lowered down, and I proceeded to board her; but as she was large and rakish, O'Brien desired me to be careful, and if there was the least show of resistance to return. As I pulled up to her bows they hailed me in French, and desired me to keep off, or they would fire. This was quite sufficient; and, in obedience to my orders, I returned to the brig and reported to O'Brien. We lowered down all the quarter-boats, and towed round the brig's broadside to her, and then gave her half a dozen carronades of round and grape. Hearing great noise and confusion on board after we had ceased firing, O'Brien again sent me to know if they had surrendered. They replied in the affirmative, and I boarded her. She proved to be theCommerce de Bordeaux, with three hundred and thirty slaves on board, out of five hundred embarked from the coast, bound to Martinique. The crew were very sickly, and were most of them in their hammocks. Latterly, they had been killing parrots to make soup for them; a few that were left, of the grey species, spoke remarkably well. When they left the coast they had nearly one thousand parrots on board.
O'Brien perceiving that I had taken possession, sent another boat to know what the vessel was. I desired the surgeon to be sent on board, as some of the men and many of the poor slaves were wounded by our shot. Of all the miserable objects, I know of none to be compared to the poor devils of slaves on board of a slave vessel: the state of suffocation between decks—the dreadful stench arising from their filth, which is hardly ever cleared away—the sick lying without help, and looked upon by those who are stronger with the utmost indifference—men, women, and children, all huddled and crowded together in a state of nudity, worn to skin and bone from stench, starvation, and living in an atmosphere that none but a negro could exist in. If all that occurs in a slave-ship were really known, I think it would be acknowledged that to make the slave-trade piracy would be nothing more than a just retribution; and this is certain, that unless it be made piracy, it never will be discontinued.
By daylight the vessel was ready, and O'Brien determined to take her to Dominica, so that the poor devils might be immediately sent on shore. We anchored with her, in a few days, in Prince Rupert's Bay, where we only had twenty-four hours to obtain some refreshments and arrange about our prize, which I hardly need say was of some value.
During the short time that I was on shore, purchasing some fowls and vegetables for O'Brien and our own mess, I was amused at witnessing a black serjeant drilling some of his regiment of free negroes and mulattoes. He appeared resolved to make the best appearance that he could, for he began by saying, "You hab shoe and 'tocking, stand in front—you hab shoe no 'tocking, stand in centre—you hab no shoe no 'tocking, stand in um rear. Face to mountain—back to sea-beach. Why you no 'tep out, sar?—you hangman!"
I was curious to count the numbers qualified for the front rank: there were only two mulattoes. In the second rank there were also only two. No shoe and no 'tocking appeared to be the fashion. As usual, we were surrounded by the negroes; and although we had been there but a few hours, they had a song composed for us, which they constantly repeated:—
"Don't you see theRattlesnakeComing under sail?Don't you see theRattlesnakeWith prizes at um tail?—'Rattlesnakehab all the money—ding, ding—She shall have all that's funny, ding, ding!"
Money can purchase anything in the new country—American information not always to be depended upon—A night attack; we are beaten off—It proves acut up, instead of acut out—After all, we save something out of the fire.
The next morning we weighed anchor, and returned to our station off Martinique. We had run within three miles of St Pierre's when we discovered a vessel coming out under jury-masts. She steered directly for us, and we made her out to be the American brigantine which we had boarded some time before. O'Brien sent a boat to bring the master of her on board.
"Well, captain," said he, "so you met with a squall?"
"I calculate not," replied he.
"Why, then, what the devil have you been about?"
"Why, I guess I sold all my cargo, and, what's more, I've sold my masts."
"Sold your masts! who did you sell them to?"
"To an almighty pretty French privateer lying in St Pierre's, which had lost her spars when she was chased by one of your brass-bottomed sarpents; and I've a notion they paid pretty handsomely too."
"But how do you mean to get home again?"
"I calculate to get into thestream, and then I'll do very well. If I meet a nor-wester, why then I'll make a signal of distress, and some one will tow me in, I guess."
"Well," replied O'Brien, "but step down into the cabin and take something, captain."
"With particular pleasure," replied this strange mortal; and down they went.
In about half an hour they returned on deck, and the boat took the American on board. Soon afterwards, O'Brien desired Osbaldistone and myself to step down into the cabin. The chart of the harbour of St Pierre's lay on the table, and O'Brien said, "I have had a long conversation with the American, and he states that the privateer is at anchor in this spot" (pointing to a pencil-mark on the chart). "If so, she is well out; and I see no difficulty in capturing her. You see that she lays in four fathoms water, and so close under the outer battery, that the guns could not be pointed down upon the boats. I have also inquired if they keep a good look-out, and the American says that they feel so secure that they keep no look-out at all; that the captain and officers belonging to her are on shore all night, drinking, smoking, and boasting of what they will do. Now the question is, whether this report be correct. The American has been well-treated by us, and I see no reason to doubt him; indeed, he gave the information voluntarily, as if he wished to serve us."
I allowed Osbaldistone to speak first: he coincided with O'Brien. I did not: the very circumstance of her requiring new masts made me doubt the truth of his assertion as to where she lay; and if one part of his story was false, why not the whole? O'Brien appeared struck with my argument, and it was agreed that if the boats did go away, it should be for a reconnoissance, and that the attempt should only be made, provided it was found that the privateer laid in the same spot pointed out by the American master. It was, however, decided that the reconnoissance should take place that very night, as, allowing the privateer to be anchored on the spot supposed, there was every probability that she would not remain there, but haul further in, to take in her new masts. The news that an expedition was at hand was soon circulated through the ship, and all the men had taken their cutlasses from the capstern to get them ready for action. The lighting boats' crews, without orders, were busy with their boats, some cutting up old blankets to muffle the oars, other making new grummets. The ship's company were as busy as bees, bustling and buzzing about the decks, and reminding you of the agitation which takes place in a hive previous to a swarm. At last, Osbaldistone came on deck, and ordered the boats' crews to be piped away, and prepare for service. He was to have the command of the expedition in the launch—I had charge of the first cutter—O'Farrell of the second, and Swinburne had the charge of the jolly-boat. At dusk, the head of the brig was again turned towards St Pierre's, and we ran slowly in. At ten we hove-to, and about eleven the boats were ordered to haul up, O'Brien repeating his orders to Mr Osbaldistone, not to make the attempt if the privateer were found to be anchored close to the town. The men were all mustered on the quarter-deck, to ascertain if they had the distinguishing mark on their jackets, that is, square patches of canvas sewed on the left arm, so that we might recognize friend from foe—a very necessary precaution in a night expedition; and then they were manned, and ordered to shove off. The oars were dropped in the water, throwing out a phosphorescent light, so common in that climate, and away we went. After an hour's pulling, Osbaldistone lay on his oars in the launch, and we closed with him.
"We are now at the mouth of the harbour," said he, "and the most perfect silence must be observed."
"At the mouth of the harbour, sir!" said Swinburne; "I reckon we are more than half way in; we passed the point at least ten minutes ago, and this is the second battery we are now abreast of."
To this Osbaldistone did not agree, nor indeed did I think that Swinburne was right; but he persisted in it, and pointed out to us the lights in the town, which were now all open to us, and which would not be the case if we were only at the mouth of the harbour. Still we were of a different opinion, and Swinburne, out of respect to his officers, said no more.
We resumed our oars, pulling with the greatest caution; the night was intensely dark, and we could distinguish nothing. After pulling ten minutes more, we appeared to be close to the lights in the town; still we could see no privateer or any other vessel. Again we lay upon our oars, and held a consultation. Swinburne declared that if the privateer laid where we supposed, we had passed her long ago; but while we were debating, O'Farrell cried out, "I see her," and he was right—she was not more than a cable's length from us. Without waiting for orders, O'Farrell desired his men to give way, and dashed alongside of the privateer. Before he was half-way on board of her, lights flew about in every direction, and a dozen muskets were discharged. We had nothing to do but to follow him, and in a few seconds we were all alongside of her; but she was well prepared, and on the alert. Boarding nettings were triced up all round, every gun had been depressed as much as possible, and she appeared to be full of men. A scene of confusion and slaughter now occurred, which I trust never again to witness. All our attempts to get on board were unavailing; if we tried at a port, a dozen pikes thrust us back; if we attempted the boarding nettings, we were thrown down, killed or wounded, into the boats. From every port, and from the decks of the privateer, the discharge of musketry was incessant. Pistols were protruded and fired in our faces, while occasionally her carronades went off, stunning us with their deafening noise, and rocking the boats in the disturbed water, if they had no other effect. For ten minutes our exertions never ceased; at last, with half our numbers lying killed and wounded in the bottom of the boats, the men, worn out and dispirited at their unavailing attempts, sat down most of them on the boats' thwarts, loading their muskets, and discharging them into the ports. Osbaldistone was among the wounded; and perceiving that he was not in the launch, of whose crew not six remained, I called to Swinburne, who was alongside of me, and desired him to tell the other boats to make the best of their way out of the harbour. This was soon communicated to the survivors, who would have continued the unequal contest to the last man, if I had not given the order. The launch and second cutter shoved off—O'Farrell also having fallen; and, as soon as they were clear of the privateer, and had got their oars to pass, I proceeded to do the same, amidst the shouts and yells of the Frenchmen, who now jumped on their gunwale and pelted us with their musketry, cheering, and mocking us.
"Stop, sir," cried Swinburne, "we'll have a bit of revenge;" so saying, he hauled-to the launch, and wending her bow to the privateer, directed her carronade—which they had no idea that we had on board, as we had not fired it—to where the Frenchmen were crowded the thickest.
"Stop one moment, Swinburne; put another dose of canister in." We did so, and then discharged the gun, which had the most murderous effect, bringing the major part of them down upon the deck. I feel convinced, from the cries and groans which followed, that if we had had a few more men, we might have returned and captured the privateer; but it was too late. The batteries were all lighted up, and although they could not see the boats, fired in the direction where they supposed us to be; for they were aware, from the shouting on board the vessel, that we had been beaten off. The launch had but six hands capable of taking an oar; the first cutter had but four. In my own boat I had five. Swinburne had two besides himself in the jolly-boat.
"This is a sorry business, sir," said Swinburne; "now, what's best to be done? My idea is, that we had better put all the wounded men into the launch, man the two cutters and jolly-boat, and tow her off. And, Mr Simple, instead of keeping on this side, as they will expect in the batteries, let us keep close in-shore, upon the near side, and their shot will pass over us."
This advice was too good not to be followed. It was now two o'clock, and we had a long pull before us, and no time to lose: we lifted the dead bodies and the wounded men out of the two cutters and jolly-boat into the launch. I had no time for examination, but I perceived that O'Farrell was quite dead, and also a youngster of the name of Pepper, who must have smuggled himself into the boats. I did, however, look for Osbaldistone, and found him in the stern sheets of the launch. He had received a deep wound in the breast, apparently with a pike. He was sensible, and asked me for a little water, which I procured from the breaker which was in the launch, and gave it to him. At the word water, and hearing it poured out from the breaker, many of the wounded men faintly called out for some. Having no time to spare, I left two men in the launch, one to steer and the other to give them water, and then taking her in tow, pulled directly in for the batteries, as advised by Swinburne, who now sat alongside of me.
As soon as we were well in-shore, I pulled out of the harbour, with feelings not by any means enviable. Swinburne said to me in a low voice, "This will be a hard blow for the captain, Mr Simple. I've always been told, that a young captain losing his men without bringing any dollars to his admiral, is not very well received."
"I am more sorry for him than I can well express, Swinburne," replied I; "but—what is that a-head—a vessel under weigh?"
Swinburne stood up in the stern of the cutter, and looked for a few seconds. "Yes, a large ship standing in under royals—she must be a Frenchman. Now's our time, sir; so long as we don't go out empty-handed, all will be well. Oars, all of you. Shall we cast off the launch, sir?"
"Yes," replied I; "and now, my lads, let us only have the vessel, and we shall do. She is a merchantman, that's clear (not that I was sure of it). Swinburne, I think it will be better to let her pass us in-shore; they will all be looking out of the other side, for they must have seen the firing."
"Well thought of, sir," replied Swinburne.
We laid on our oars, and let her pass us, which she did, creeping in at the rate of two miles an hour. We then pulled for her quarter in the three boats, leaving the launch behind us, and boarded. As we premised, the crew were on deck, and all on the other side of the vessel, so anxiously looking at the batteries, which were still firing occasional random shot, that they did not perceive us until we were close to them, and then they had no time to seize their arms. There were several ladies on board; some of the people protected them, others ran below. In two minutes we had possession of her, and had put her head the other way. To our surprise we found that she mounted fourteen guns. One hatch we left open for the ladies, some of whom had fainted, to be taken down below; the others were fastened down by Swinburne. As soon as we had the deck to ourselves, we manned one of the cutters, and sent it for the launch; and as soon as she was made fast alongside, we had time to look about us. The breeze freshened, and, in half an hour, we were out of gun-shot of all the batteries. I then had the wounded men taken out of the launch, and Swinburne and the other men bound up their wounds, and made them as comfortable as they could.
Some remarkable occurrences take place in the letter of marque—Old friends with improved faces—The captor a captive; but not carried away, though the captive is, by the ship's boat—The whole chapter a mixture of love, war, and merchandise.
We had had possession of the vessel about an hour, when the man who was sentry over the hatchway told me that one or the prisoners wished to speak with the English commanding officer, and asked leave to come on deck. I gave permission, and a gentleman came up, stating that he was a passenger; that the ship was a letter of marque, from Bordeaux; that there were seven lady passengers on board, who had come out to join their husbands and families; and that he trusted I would have no objection to put them on shore, as women could hardly be considered as objects of warfare. As I knew that O'Brien would have done so, and that he would be glad to get rid of both women and prisoners if he could, I replied "Most certainly;" that I would heave-to, that they might not have so far to pull on shore, and that I would permit the ladies and other passengers to go on shore. I begged that they would be as quick as possible in getting their packages ready, and that I would give them two of the boats belonging to the ship, with a sufficient number of French seamen belonging to her to man the boats. The Frenchman was very grateful, thanked me in the name of the ladies, and went down below to impart the intelligence. I then hove-to, lowered down the boats from the quarters, and waited for them to come up. It was daylight before they were ready, but that I did not care about; I saw the brig in the offing about seven miles off, and I was well clear of the batteries. At last they made their appearance, one by one coming up the ladder, escorted by French gentlemen. They had to wait while the packages and bundles were put into the boats. The first sight which struck them with horror was the many dead and wounded Englishmen lying on the decks. Expressing their commiseration, I told them that we had attempted to take the privateer, and had been repulsed, and that it was coming out of the harbour that I had fallen in with their ship and captured it. All the ladies had severally thanked me for my kindness in giving them their liberty, except one, whose eyes were fixed upon the wounded men, when the French gentleman went up to her, and reminded her that she had not expressed her thanks to the commanding officer.
She turned round to me—I started back. I certainly had seen that face before—I could not be mistaken; yet she had now grown up into a beautiful young woman. "Celeste," said I, trembling. "Are you not Celeste?"
"Yes," replied she, looking earnestly at me, as if she would discover who I was, but which it was not very easy to do, begrimed as my face was with dust and gunpowder.
"Have you forgotten Peter Simple?"
"Oh! no—no—never forgot you!" cried Celeste, bursting into tears, and holding out her hands.
This scene occasioned no small astonishment to the parties on deck, who could not comprehend it. She smiled through her tears, as I told her how happy I was to have the means of being of service to her. "And where is the colonel?" said I.
"There," replied she, pointing to the island; "he is now general, and commands the force in the garrison. And where is Mr O'Brien?" interrogated Celeste.
"There," replied I; "he commands that man-of-war, of which I am the second lieutenant."
A rapid exchange of inquiries took place, and the boats were stopped while we were in conversation. Swinburne reported that the brig was standing in for us, and I felt that in justice to the wounded I could no longer delay. Still I found time to press her hand, to thank her for the purse she had given me when I was on the stilts, and to tell her that I had never forgotten her, and never would. With many remembrances to her father, I was handing her into the boat, when she said, "I don't know whether I am right to ask it, but you could do me such a favour."
"What is it, Celeste?"
"You have allowed more than one-half of the men to pull us on shore; some must remain, and they are so miserable—indeed it is hardly yet decided which of them are to go. Could you let them all go?"
"That I will, for your sake, Celeste. As soon as your two boats have shoved off, I will lower down the boat astern, and send the rest after you; but I must make sail now—God bless you!"
The boats then shoved off, the passengers waving their handkerchiefs to us, and I made sail for the brig. As soon as the stern-boat was alongside, the rest of the crew were called up and put into her, and followed their companions. I felt that O'Brien would not be angry with me for letting them all go: and especially when I told him who begged for them. The vessel's name was theVictorine, mounting fourteen guns, and twenty-four men, with eleven passengers. She was chiefly laden with silks and wine, and was a very valuable prize. Celeste had time to tell me that her father had been four years in Martinique, and had left her at home for her education; and that she was then coming out to join him. The other ladies were all wives or daughters of officers of the French garrison on the island, and the gentlemen passengers were some of them French officers; but as this was told me in secrecy, of course I was not bound to know it, as they were not in uniform.
As soon as we had closed with the brig, I hastened on board to O'Brien; and as soon as a fresh supply of hands to man the boats, and the surgeon had been despatched on board of the prize, to superintend the removal of the wounded, I went down with him into the cabin, and narrated what had occurred.
"Well," said O'Brien, "all's well that ends well; but this is not the luckiest hit in the world. Your taking the ship has saved me, Peter; and I must make as flourishing a despatch as I can. By the powers but it's very lucky that she has fourteen guns—it sounds grand. I must muddle it all up together, so that the admiral must think we intended to cut them both out—and so we did, sure enough, if we had known she had been there. But I am most anxious to hear the surgeon's report, and whether poor Osbaldistone will do well. Peter, oblige me by going on board, and put two marines sentry over the hatchway, so that no one goes down and pulls the traps about; for I'll send on shore everything belonging to the passengers, for Colonel O'Brien's sake."
The surgeon's report was made—six killed and sixteen wounded. The killed were, O'Farren and Pepper, midshipmen, two seamen and two marines. The first lieutenant, Osbaldistone, was severely wounded in three places, but likely to do well; five other men were dangerously wounded: the other ten would, in all probability, return to their duty in less than a month. As soon as the wounded were on board, O'Brien returned with me to the prize, and we went down into the cabin. All the passengers' effects were collected; the trunks which had been left open were nailed down: and O'Brien wrote a handsome letter to General O'Brien, containing a list of the packages sent on shore. We sent the launch with a flag of truce to the nearest battery; after some demur it was accepted, and effects landed. We did not wait for an answer, but made all sail to join the admiral at Barbadoes.
The next morning we buried those who had fallen. O'Farrell was a fine young man, brave as a lion, but very hot in his temper. He would have made a good officer had he been spared. Poor little Pepper was also much regretted. He was but twelve years old. He had bribed the bowman of the second cutter to allow him to conceal himself under the fore-sheets of the boat. His day's allowance of spirits had purchased him this object of his ambition, which ended so fatally. But as soon as the bodies had disappeared under the wave, and the service was over, we all felt happier. There is something very unpleasant, particularly to sailors, in having a corpse on board.
We now sailed merrily along, the prize keeping company with us; and, before we reached Barbadoes, most of the men were convalescent. Osbaldistone's wounds, were, however, very severe; and he was recommended to return home, which he did, and obtained his promotion as soon as he arrived. He was a pleasant messmate, and I was sorry to lose him; although, the lieutenant appointed in his room being junior to me, I was promoted to be first lieutenant of the brig. Soon after Osbaldistone went home, his brother broke his neck when hunting, and Osbaldistone came into the property. He then quitted the service.
We found the admiral at Barbadoes, who received O'Brien and his despatch very well. O'Brien had taken two good prizes, and that was sufficient to cover a multitude of sins, even if he had committed any; but the despatch was admirably written, and the admiral, in his letter to the Admiralty, commented upon Captain O'Brien's successful and daring attack; whereas, if the truth had been known, it was Swinburne's advice of pulling up the weather shore, which was the occasion of our capturing theVictorine; but it is very hard to come at the real truth of these sort of things, as I found out during the time that I was in His Majesty's service.
O'Brien tells his crew that one Englishman is as good as three Frenchmen on salt water—They prove it—We fall in with an old acquaintance, although she could not be considered as a friend.
Our next cruise was on the coast of Guinea and Gulf of Mexico, where we were running up and down for three months, without falling in with anything but West Indiamen bound to Demerara, Berbice, and Surinam, and occasionally chasing a privateer; but in the light winds they were too fast for us. Still we were useful in protecting the trade, and O'Brien had a letter of thanks from the merchants, and a handsome piece of plate upon his quitting the station. We had made sail for Barbadoes two days, and were within sight of the island of Trinidad, when we perceived six sail on the lee-bow. We soon made them out to be three large ships and three schooners; and immediately guessed, which afterwards proved to be correct, that they were three privateers, with West India ships which they had captured. We made all sail, and at first the three privateers did the same; but afterwards, having made out our force, and not liking to abandon their prizes, they resolved to fight. The West Indiamen hauled to the wind on the other tack, and the three privateers shortened sail and awaited our coming. We beat to quarters, and when everything was ready, and we were within a mile of the enemy, who had now thrown out the tri-coloured flag, O'Brien ordered all the men aft on the quarter-deck, and addressed them: "Now, my men, you see that there are three privateers, and you also see that there are three West Indiamen, which they have captured. As for the privateers, it's just a fair match for you one Englishman can always beat three Frenchmen. We must lick the privateers for honour and glory, and we must re-capture the ships for profit, because you'll all want some money when you get on shore again. So you've just half-a-dozen things to do, and then we'll pipe to dinner."
This harangue suited the sailors very well, and they returned to their guns. "Now, Peter," said O'Brien, "just call away the sail-trimmers from the guns, for I mean to fight these fellows under sail, and out-manoeuvre them, if I can. Tell Mr Webster I want to speak with him."
Mr Webster was the second lieutenant, a very steady, quiet young man, and a good officer.
"Mr Webster," said O'Brien, "remember that all the foremost guns must be very much depressed. I prefer that the shot should strike the water before it reaches them, rather than it should go over them. See that your screws are run up at once, and I will take care that no broadside is thrown away. Starboard, Swinburne."
"Starboard it is, sir."
"Steady; so—that's right for the stern of the leeward vessel."
We were within two cable lengths of the privateers, who still remained hove-to within half a cable's length of each other. They were very large schooners, full of men, with their boarding netting triced up, and showing a very good set of teeth: as it afterwards proved, one mounted sixteen, and the other two fourteen, guns.
"Now, my lads, over to the lee guns, and fire as they bear, when we round to. Hands by the lee head-braces, and jib-sheet, stretch along the weather braces. Quarter-master abaft, tend the boom-sheet. Port hard, Swinburne."
"Port it is, sir," replied Swinburne; and the brig rounded up on the wind, shooting up under the sterns of the two weathermost schooners, and discharging the broadsides into them as the guns bore.
"Be smart and load, my lads, and stand by the same guns. Round in the weather head-braces. Peter, I don't want her to go about. Stand by to haul over the boom-sheet, when she pays off. Swinburne, helm amidships."
By this time another broadside was poured into the schooner, who had not yet returned our fire, which, having foolishly remained hove to the wind, they could not do. The brig had now stern way, and O'Brien then executed a very skilful manoeuvre: he shifted the helm, and made a stern board, so as to back in between the two weather schooners and the one to leeward, bracing round at the same time on the other tack.
"Man both sides, my lads, and give them your broadsides as we pass."
The men stationed at the starboard guns flew over, and the other side being again loaded, we exchanged broadsides with the leeward and one of the windward schooners, the brig continuing her stern way until we passed ahead of them. By the time that we had re-loaded, the brig had gathered headway, and again passed between the same two schooners, exchanging broadsides, and then passing astern of them.
"Capital, my lads—capital!" said O'Brien; "this is what I call good fighting." And so it was; for O'Brien had given two raking broadsides, and four others, receiving only two in return, for the schooners were not ready for us when we passed between them the last time.
The smoke had now rolled away to leeward, and we were able to see the effect of our broadsides. The middle schooner had lost her main-boom, and appeared very much cut up in the hull. The schooner to leeward did not appear to have suffered much; but they now perceived their error, and made sail. They had expected that we should have run in between them, and fought broadside to broadside, by which means the weathermost schooner would have taken a raking position, while the others engaged us to windward and to leeward. Our own damages were trifling—two men slightly wounded, and one main shroud cut away. We ran about half a mile astern from them; then with both broadsides ready, we tacked, and found that, as we expected, we could weather the whole of them. This we did; O'Brien running the brig within biscuit-throw of the weather schooner, engaging him broadside to broadside, with the advantage that the other two could not fire a shot into us without standing a chance of striking their consort. If he made more sail, so did we; if he shortened, so did we; so as to keep our position with little variation. The schooner fought well; but her metal was not to be compared with our thirty-two pound carronades, which ploughed up her sides at so short a distance, driving two ports into one. At last her foremast went by the board, and she dropped astern. In the meantime the other schooners had both tacked, and were coming up under our stern to rake us, but the accident which happened to the one we had engaged left us at liberty. We knew that she could not escape, so we tacked and engaged the other two, nearing them as fast as we could. The breeze now sprang up fast, and O'Brien put up the helm and passed between them, giving them both a raking broadside of grape and cannister, which brought the sticks about their ears. This sickened them; the smallest schooner, which had been the leewardmost at the commencement of the action, made all sail on a wind. We clapped on the royals to follow her, when we perceived that the other schooner, which had been in the middle, and whose main-boom we had shot away, had put her helm up, and was crowding all sail before the wind. O'Brien then said, "Must not try for too much, or we shall lose all. Put her about, Peter, we must be content with the one that is left us."
We went about, and ranged up to the schooner which had lost her foremast; but she, finding that her consort had deserted her, hauled down her colours just as we were about to pour in our broadside. Our men gave three cheers; and it was pleasant to see them all shaking hands with each other, congratulating and laughing at the successful result of our action.
"Now, my lads, be smart;—we've done enough for honour, now for profit. Peter, take the two cutters full of men, and go on board of the schooner, while I get hold of the three West Indiamen. Rig something jury forward, and follow me."
In a minute the cutters were down and full of men. I took possession of the schooner, while the brig again tacked, and crowding all sail stood after the captured vessels. The schooner, which was the largest of the three, was called theJean d' Arc, mounting sixteen guns, and had fifty-three men on board, the remainder being away in the prizes. The captain was wounded very badly, and one officer killed. Out of her ship's company, she had but eight killed and five wounded. They informed me, that they had sailed three months ago from St Pierre's, Martinique, and had fallen in with the other two privateers, and cruised in company, having taken nine West Indiamen since they had come out. "Pray," said I to the officer who gave the information, "were you ever attacked by boats when you laid at St Pierre's?" He replied, yes; and that they had beaten them off. "Did you purchase these masts of an American?" He replied in the affirmative; so that we had captured the very vessel, in attempting to cut out which, we had lost so many men.
We were all very glad of this, and Swinburne said, "Well, hang me if I didn't think that I had seen that port-hole before; there it was that I wrenched a pike out of one of the rascal's hands, who tried to stab me, and into that port-hole I fired at least a dozen muskets. Well, I'm d——d glad we've got hold of the beggar at last."
We secured the prisoners below, and commenced putting the schooner in order. In half an hour, we had completed our knotting and splicing, and having two of the carpenters with us, in an hour we had got up a small jury mast forward, sufficient for the present. We lowered the mainsail, put try-sails on her, and stood after the brig, which was now close to the prizes; but they separated, and it was not till dark that she had possession of two. The third was then hull down on the other tack, with the brig in chase. We followed the brig, as did the two re-captured vessels, and even with our jury up, we found that we could sail as fast as they. The next morning, we saw the brig hove-to, and about three miles a-head, with the three vessels in her possession. We closed, and I went on board. Webster was put in charge of the privateer; and, after lying-to for that day to send our prize-masters and men on board to remove the prisoners, we got up a proper jury-mast, and all made sail together for Barbadoes. On my return on board, I found that we had but one man and one boy killed and six wounded, which I was not aware of. I forgot to say that the names of the other two privateers wereL'EtoileandLa Madeleine.
In a fortnight we arrived with all our prizes safe in Carlisle Bay, where we found the admiral, who had anchored but two days before. I hardly need say that O'Brien was well received, and gained a great deal of credit for the action. I found several letters from my sister, the contents of which gave me much pain. My father had been some months in Ireland, and returned without gaining any information. My sister said that he was very unhappy, paid no attention to his clerical duties, and would sit for days without speaking. That he was very much altered in his appearance, and had grown thin and care-worn. "In short," said she "my dear Peter, I am afraid that he is fretting himself to death. Of course, I am very lonely and melancholy. I cannot help reflecting upon what will be my situation if any accident should happen to my father. Accept my uncle's protection I will not; yet, how am I to live, for my father has saved nothing? I have been very busy lately, trying to qualify myself for a governess, and practise the harp and piano for several hours every day. I shall be very, very glad when you come home again." I showed the letters to O'Brien, who read them with much attention. I perceived the colour mount into his cheeks, when he read those parts of her letters in which she mentioned his name, and expressed her gratitude for his kindness towards me.
"Never mind, Peter," said O'Brien, returning me the letters; "to whom is it that I am indebted for my promotion, and this brig, but to you—and for all the prize-money which I have made, and which, by the head of St Patrick, comes to a very dacent sum, but to you? Make yourself quite easy about your dear little sister. We'll club your prize-money and mine together, and she shall marry a duke, if there is one in England deserving her; and it's the French that shall furnish her dowry, as sure as theRattlesnakecarries a tail."
I am sent away after prizes, and meet with a hurricane—Am driven on shore, with the loss of more than half my men—Where is theRattlesnake?
In three weeks we were again ready for sea, and the admiral ordered us to our old station off Martinique. We had cruised about a fortnight off St Pierre's, and, as I walked the deck at night, often did I look at the lights in the town, and wonder whether any of them were in the presence of Celeste, when, one evening, being about six miles off shore, we observed two vessels rounding Negro Point, close in-shore. It was quite calm, and the boats were towing ahead.
"It will be dark in half-an-hour, Peter," said O'Brien, "and I think we might get them before they anchor, or, if they do anchor, it will be well outside. What do you think?"
I agreed with him, for in fact, I always seemed to be happier when the brig was close in-shore, as I felt as if I was nearer to Celeste, and the further we were off, the more melancholy I became. Continually thinking of her, and the sight of her after so many years' separation, had changed my youthful attachment into strong affection. I may say that I was deeply in love. The very idea of going into the harbour, therefore, gave me pleasure, and there was no mad or foolish thing that I would not have done, only to gaze upon the walls which contained the constant object of my thoughts. These were wild and visionary notions, and with little chance of ever arriving to any successful issue; but at one or two-and-twenty we are fond of building castles, and very apt to fall in love, without considering our prospect of success. I replied, that I thought it very possible, and wished he would permit me to make the attempt, as, if I found there was much risk, I would return.
"I know that I can trust you, Peter," replied O'Brien, "and it's a great pleasure to know that you have an officer you can trust: but haven't I brought you up myself, and made a man of you, as I promised I would, when you were a little spalpeen, with a sniffling nose, and legs in the shape of two carrots? So hoist out the launch, and get the boats ready— the sooner the better. What a hot day this has been—not a cat's-paw on the water, and the sky all of a mist. Only look at the sun, how he goes down, puffed out to three times his size, as if he were in a terrible passion. I suspect we shall have the land breeze off strong."
In half an hour I shoved off with the boats. It was now quite dark, and I pulled towards the harbour of St Pierre. The heat was excessive and unaccountable; not the slightest breath of wind moved in the heavens or below; no clouds to be seen, and the stars were obscured by a sort of mist: there appeared a total stagnation in the elements. The men in the boats pulled off their jackets, for, after a few moments' pulling, they could bear them no longer. As we pulled in, the atmosphere became more opaque, and the darkness more intense. We supposed ourselves to be at the mouth of the harbour, but could see nothing—not three yards ahead of the boat. Swinburne, who always went with me, was steering the boat, and I observed to him the unusual appearance of the night.
"I've been watching it, sir," replied Swinburne, "and I tell you, Mr Simple, that if we only know how to find the brig, that I would advise you to get on board of her immediately. She'll want all her hands this night, or I'm much mistaken."
"Why do you say so?" replied I.
"Because I think, nay, I may say that I'm sartin, we'll have a hurricane afore morning. It's not the first time I've cruised in these latitudes. I recollect in '94—"
But I interrupted him: "Swinburne, I believe that you are right. At all events, I'll turn back: perhaps we may reach the brig before it comes on. She carries a light, and we can find her out." I then turned the boat round, and steered, as near as I could guess, for where the brig was lying. But we had not pulled out more than two minutes before a low moaning was heard in the atmosphere—now here, now there—and we appeared to be pulling through solid darkness, if I may use the expression. Swinburne looked around him and pointed out on the starboard bow.
"It's a-coming, Mr Simple, sure enough; many's the living being that will not rise on its legs to-morrow. See, sir."
I looked, and dark as it was, it appeared as if a sort of black wall was sweeping along the water right towards us. The moaning gradually increased to a stunning roar, and then at once it broke upon us with a noise to which no thunder can bear a comparison. The oars were caught by the wind with such force that the men were dashed forward under the thwarts, many of them severely hurt. Fortunately we pulled with tholes and pins, or the gunwale and planks of the boat would have been wrenched off, and we should have foundered. The wind soon caught the boat on her broadside, and, had there been the least sea, would have inevitably thrown her over; but Swinburne put the helm down, and she fell off before the hurricane, darting through the boiling water at the rate of ten miles an hour. All hands were aghast; they had recovered their seats, but were obliged to relinquish them and sit down at the bottom, holding on by the thwarts. The terrific roaring of the hurricane prevented any communication, except by gesture. The other boats had disappeared; lighter than ours, they had flown away faster before the sweeping element; but we had not been a minute before the wind before the sea rose in a most unaccountable manner—it appeared to be by magic. Of all the horrors that ever I witnessed, nothing could be compared to the scene of this night. We could see nothing, and heard only the wind, before which we were darting like an arrow—to where we knew not, unless it was to certain death. Swinburne steered the boat, every now and then looking back as the waves increased. In a few minutes we were in a heavy swell, that at one minute bore us all aloft, and at the next almost sheltered us from the hurricane; and now the atmosphere was charged with showers of spray, the wind cutting off the summits of the waves, as if with a knife, and carrying them along with it, as it were, in its arms. The boat was filling with water, and appeared to settle down fast. The men baled with their hats in silence, when a large wave culminated over the stern, filling us up to our thwarts. The next moment we all received a shock so violent, that we were jerked from our seats. Swinburne was thrown over my head. Every timber of the boat separated at once, and she appeared to crumble from under us, leaving us floating on the raging waters. We all struck out for our lives, but with little hope of preserving them; but the next wave dashed us on the rocks, against which the boat had already been hurled. That wave gave life to some and death to others. Me, in Heaven's mercy, it preserved: I was thrown so high up that I merely scraped against the top of the rock, breaking two of my ribs. Swinburne, and eight more, escaped with me, but not unhurt: two had their legs broken, three had broken arms, and the others were more or less contused. Swinburne miraculously received no injury. We had been eighteen in the boat, of which ten escaped: the others were hurled up at our feet; and the next morning we found them dreadfully mangled. One or two had their skulls literally shattered to pieces against the rocks. I felt that I was saved, and was grateful; but still the hurricane howled —still the waves were washing over us. I crawled further up upon the beach, and found Swinburne sitting down with his eyes directed seaward. He knew me, took my hand, squeezed it, and then held it in his. For some moments we remained in this position, when the waves, which every moment increased in volume, washed up to us, and obliged us to crawl further up. I then looked around me; the hurricane continued in its fury, but the atmosphere was not so dark. I could trace, for some distance, the line of the harbour, from the ridge of foam upon the shore; and, for the first time, I thought of O'Brien and the brig. I put my mouth close to Swinburne's ear, and cried out, "O'Brien!" Swinburne shook his head, and looked up again at the offing. I thought whether there was any chance of the brig's escape. She was certainly six, if not seven miles off, and the hurricane was not direct on the shore. She might have a drift of ten miles, perhaps; but what was that against such tremendous power? I prayed for those on board of the brig, and returned thanks for my own preservation. I was, or soon should be, a prisoner, no doubt; but what was that? I thought of Celeste, and felt almost happy.
In about three hours the force of the wind subsided. It still blew a heavy gale, but the sky cleared up, the stars again twinkled in the heavens, and we could see to a considerable distance.
"It's breaking now, sir," said Swinburne, at last; "satisfied with the injury it has done—and that's no little. This is worse than '94."
"Now, I'd give all my pay and prize-money if it were only daylight, andI could know the fate of the poorRattlesnake. What do you think,Swinburne?"
"All depends upon whether they were taken unprepared, sir. Captain O'Brien is as good a seaman as ever trod a plank; but he never has been in a hurricane, and may not have known, the signs and warnings which God in His mercy has vouchsafed to us. Your flush vessels fill easily—but we must hope for the best."
Most anxiously did we look out for the day, which appeared to us as if it never would break. At last the dawn appeared, and we stretched our eyes to every part of the offing as it was lighted up, but we could not see the brig. The sun rose, and all was bright and clear; but we looked not around us, our eyes were directed to where we had left the brig. The sea was still running high, but the wind abated fast.
"Thank God!" ejaculated Swinburne, when he had directed his eyes along the coast, "she is above water, at all events!" and looking in the direction where he pointed, I perceived the brig within two miles of the shore, dismantled, and tossing in the waves.
"I see her," replied I, catching my breath with joy; "but—still—I think she must go on shore."
"All depends upon whether she can get a little bit of sail up to weather the point," replied Swinburne; "and depend upon it, Captain O'Brien knows that as well as we do."
We were now joined by the other men who were saved. We all shook hands. They pointed out to me the bodies of our shipmates who had perished. I directed them to haul them further up, and put them all together; and continued, with Swinburne, to watch the brig. In about half an hour we perceived a triangle raised, and in ten minutes afterwards a jury-mast abaft—a try-sail was hoisted and set. Then the shears were seen forward, and in as short a time another try-sail and a storm-jib were expanded to the wind.
"That's all he can do now, Mr Simple," observed Swinburne; "he must trust to them and Providence. They are not more than a mile from the beach—it will be touch and go."
Anxiously did we watch for more than half an hour; the other men returned to us, and joined in our speculations. At one time we thought it impossible—at another, we were certain that she would weather the point. At last, as she neared us, she warped ahead: my anxiety became almost insupportable. I stood first on one leg, and then on the other, breathless with suspense. She appeared to be on the point—actually touching the rocks—"God! she's struck!" said I.
"No!" replied Swinburne;—and then we saw her pass on the other side of the outermost rock and disappear.
"Safe, Mr Simple!—weathered, by God!" cried Swinburne, waving his hat with joy.
"God be thanked!" replied I, overcome with delight.
The devastation of the hurricane—Peter makes friends—At destroying or saving, nothing like British seamen—Peter meets with General O'Brien, much to his satisfaction—Has another meeting still more so—A great deal of pressing of hands, "and all that," as Pope says.
Now that the brig was safe, we thought of ourselves. My first attention was directed to the dead bodies, and as I looked at their mangled limbs, I felt grateful to Heaven that I had been so miraculously spared. We then cast our eyes along the beach to see if we could trace any remnants of the other boats, but in vain. We were about three miles from the town, which we could perceive had received considerable damage, and the beach below it was strewed with wrecks and fragments. I told the men that we might as well walk into the town and deliver ourselves up as prisoners; to which they agreed, and we set forward, promising to send for the poor fellows who were too much hurt to accompany us.
As soon as we climbed up the rocks, and gained the inland, what a sight presented itself to us! Trees torn up by the roots in every direction— cattle lying dead—here and there the remains of a house, of which the other parts had been swept away for miles. Everything not built of solid masonry had disappeared. We passed what had been a range of negro huts, but they were levelled to the ground. The negroes were busily searching for their property among the ruins, while the women held their infants in their arms, and the other children by their sides. Here and there was the mother wailing over the dead body of some poor little thing which had been crushed to death. They took no notice of us. About half a mile further on, to our great delight, we fell in with the crews of the other boats, who were sitting by the side of the road. They had all escaped unhurt; their boats, being so much more buoyant than ours, had been thrown up high and dry. They joined us, and we proceeded on our way. On our road we fell in with a cart blown over, under the wheel of which was the leg of the negro who conducted it. We released the poor fellow; his leg was fractured. We laid him by the side of the road in the shade, and continued our march. Our whole route was one scene of desolation and distress; but when we arrived at the town, we found that there it was indeed accumulated. There was not one house in three standing entire— the beach was covered with remnants of bodies and fragments of vessels, whose masts lay forced several feet into the sand, and broken into four or five pieces. Parties of soldiers were busy taking away the bodies, and removing what few valuables had been saved. We turned up into the town, for no one accosted us or even noticed us; and here the scene was even more dreadful. In some streets they were digging out those who were still alive, and whose cries were heard among the ruins; in others they were carrying away the dead bodies. The lamentations of the relatives— the howling of the negroes—the cries of the wounded—the cursing and swearing of the French soldiers, and the orders delivered continually by officers on horseback, with all the confusion arising from crowds of spectators, mingling their voices together, formed a scene as dreadful as it was novel. After surveying it for a few minutes, I went up to an officer on horseback, and told him in French, that I wished to surrender myself as a prisoner.
"We have no time to take prisoners now," replied he; "hundreds are buried in the ruins, and we must try to save them. We must now attend to the claims of humanity."
"Will you allow my men to assist you, sir?" replied I. "They are active and strong fellows."
"Sir," said he, taking off his hat, "I thank you in the name of my unfortunate countrymen."
"Show us, then, where we may be most useful."
He turned and pointed to a house higher up, the offices of which were blown down. "There are living beings under those ruins."
"Come, my lads," said I; and sore as they were, my men hastened with alacrity to perform their task. I could not help them myself, my side was so painful; but I stood by giving them directions. In half an hour we had cleared away, so as to arrive at a poor negro girl, whose cries we had distinctly heard. We released her and laid her down in the street, but she fainted. Her left hand was dreadfully shattered. I was giving what assistance I could, and the men were busy clearing away, throwing on one side the beams and rafters, when an officer on horseback rode up. He stood and asked me who we were. I told him that we belonged to the brig, and had been wrecked; and that we were giving what assistance we could until they were at leisure to send us to prison.
"You English are fine brave fellows," replied he, and he rode on.
Another unfortunate object had been recovered by our men, an old white-headed negro, but he was too much mangled to live. We brought him out, and were laying him beside the negro girl, when several officers on horseback rode down the street. The one who was foremost, in a general's uniform, I immediately recognized as my former friend, then Colonel O'Brien. They all stopped and looked at us. I told who we were. General O'Brien took off his hat to the sailors, and thanked them. He did not recognize me, and he was passing on, when I said to him in English, "General O'Brien, you have forgotten me, but I shall never forget your kindness."
"My God!" said he, "is it you, my dear fellow?" and he sprang from his horse and shook me warmly by the hand. "No wonder that I did not know you; you are a very different person from little Peter Simple, who dressed up as a girl and danced on stilts. But I have to thank you, and so has Celeste for your kindness to her. I will not ask you to leave your work of charity and kindness, but when you have done what you can, come up to my house. Anyone will show it to you; and if you do not find me you will find Celeste, as you must be aware cannot leave this melancholy employment. God bless you!" He then rode off, followed by his staff.
"Come, my lads," said I, "depend upon it we shall not be very cruelly treated. Let us work hard, and do all the good we can, and the Frenchmen won't forget it."
We had cleared that house, and went back to where the other people were working under the orders of the officer on horseback. I went up to him, and told him we had saved two, and if he had no objection, would assist his party. He thankfully accepted our services.
"And now, my lads," said Swinburne, "let us forget all our bruises, and show these French fellows how to work."
And they did so: they tossed away the beams and rafters right and left with a quickness and dexterity which quite astonished the officer and other inhabitants who were looking on, and in half an hour had done more work than could have been possibly expected. Several lives were saved, and the French expressed their admiration at our sailors' conduct, and brought them something to drink, which they stood much in need of, poor fellows. After that they worked double tides, as we say, and certainly were the means of saving many lives which otherwise would have been sacrificed.
The disasters occasioned by this hurricane were very great, owing to its having taken place at night, when the chief of the inhabitants were in bed and asleep. I was told that most of the wood houses were down five minutes after the hurricane burst upon them. About noon there was no more work for us to do, and I was not sorry that it was over. My side was very painful, and the burning heat of the sun made me feel giddy and sick at the stomach. I inquired of a respectable looking old Frenchman which was the General's house. He directed me to it, and I proceeded there, followed by my men. When I arrived, I found the orderly leading away the horse of General O'Brien, who had just returned. I desired a sergeant, who was in attendance at the door, to acquaint the general that I was below. He returned, and desired me to follow him. I was conducted into a large room, where I found him in company with several officers. He again greeted me warmly, and introduced me to the company as the officer who had permitted the ladies who had been taken prisoners to come on shore.
"I have to thank you, then, for my wife," said an officer, coming up, and offering his hand.
Another came up, and told me that I had also released his. We then entered into a conversation, in which I stated, the occasion of my having been wrecked, and all the particulars; also, that I had seen the brig in the morning dismasted, but that she had weathered the point, and was safe.
"That brig of yours, I must pay you the compliment to say, has been very troublesome; and my namesake keeps the batteries more upon the alert than ever I could have done," said General O'Brien. "I don't believe there is a negro five years old upon the island who does not know your brig."
We then talked over the attack of the privateer, in which we were beaten off. "Ah!" replied the aide-de-camp, "you made a mess of that. He has been gone these four months. Captain Carnot swears that he'll fight you if he falls in with you."
"He has kept his word," replied I; and then I narrated our action with the three French privateers, and the capture of the vessel; which surprised and, I think, annoyed them very much.
"Well, my friend," said General O'Brien, "you must stay with me while you are on the island; if you want anything, let me know."
"I am afraid that I want a surgeon," replied I; "for my side is so painful that I can scarcely breathe."
"Are you hurt then?" said General O'Brien, with an anxious look.
"Not dangerously, I believe," said I, "but rather painfully."
"Let me see," said an officer, who stepped forward; "I am surgeon to the forces here, and perhaps you will trust yourself in my hands. Take off your coat."
I did so with difficulty. "You have two ribs broken," said he, "and a very severe contusion. You must go to bed, or lie on a sofa, for a few days. In a quarter of an hour I will come and dress you, and promise you to make you all well in ten days, in return for your having given me my daughter, who was on board of theVictorinewith the other ladies." The officers now made their bows, and left me alone with General O'Brien.
"Recollect," said he, "that I tell it you once for all, that my purse, and everything, is at your command. If you do not accept them freely, I shall think you do not love us. It is not the first time, Peter, and you repaid me honourably. However, of course, I was no party to that affair; it was Celeste's doing," continued he, laughing. "Of course, I could not imagine that it was you who was dressed up as a woman, and so impudently danced through France on stilts. But I must hear all your adventures by-and-by, Celeste is most anxious to see you. Will you go now, or wait till after the surgeon comes?"
"Oh, now, if you please, general. May I first beg that some care may be taken of my poor men; they have had nothing to eat since yesterday, are very much bruised, and have worked hard; and that a cart may be sent for those who lie maimed on the beach?"
"I should have thought of them before," replied he: "and I will also order the same party to bury the other poor fellows who are lying on the beach. Come, now—will take you to Celeste."