Lanoix meekly but firmly pointed out that the Laws of Oléron ordained that the captain was not to punish a seaman until his anger had cooled down. (It reminds one rather of Midshipman Easy walking about with the Articles of War under his arm, and admonishing his superior for using strong language!)
Valbué's rejoinder was a blow with a handspike, which narrowly missed braining the seaman. Antoine Sauret ventured to remonstrate, but was warned that he was in danger of similar treatment: for the Laws of Oléron allow the captain one blow, just as the law of England allows a dog one bite—only the skipper was apparently permitted one crack at each member of his crew. So Sauret said no more.
Lanoix, however, was as well up in the law as his captain, and, jumping over the iron rail which separated the forecastle from the after part of the vessel, reminded Valbué that if he followed him on to the forecastle and repeated the blow he would put himselfin the wrong, and he, Lanoix, would have the right to retaliate.
Valbué immediately let loose a string of contemptuous and insulting epithets, and, passing the barrier, struck Lanoix two violent blows on the face.
Out came the seaman's knife, and in a second the captain's arm was badly gashed; but the instinct of discipline induced the crew to rush to the rescue, and they pinioned Lanoix—but not before he had killed one man, stabbing him to the heart.
Valbué thereupon sent his cabin-boy down to bring up a copy of the Laws of Oléron, Jean Bart, at the helm, looking on all this while with disapproval and horror very plainly expressed in his countenance. When the boy appeared with the book Sauret went aft and sat down by the helmsman.
Thinking to place Sauret and his young companion in the wrong, Valbué bade the former come forward and read out the law. He refused, pointing out that Valbué had himself broken the law, and that Lanoix was entitled to purgation of his offence by means of certain oaths and formulæ.
However, the protests of Jean Bart and the brave old man were of no avail. Ignoring their veto, and declaring that six out of eight of the crew agreed that Lanoix had wounded his captain and slain one of his shipmates, Valbué inflicted upon the unfortunate Huguenot the penalty for the first offence, lashing his arm to a sharp sword fixed to the windlass and then knocking him down, so that the flesh was stripped from his arm; and finally, ordering the dead bodyof the other man to be brought along, he caused Lanoix, sorely wounded but still alive, to be bound to it, and both were thrown overboard—which is also strictly in accordance with the Laws of Oléron, in the event of a seaman killing one of his comrades at sea—as he who runs may read.
Jean Bart and the boatswain acquired from that moment a strong distaste for the Laws of Oléron, and quitted the vessel upon arriving, the same evening, at Calais.
Valbué, consistent with all his brutality, reported the circumstances, as enjoined by the same code, to the authorities; and the incident, we are told, led to the framing of the Maritime Code of France.
Bart and Sauret were highly commended for their plucky protest, and a few days later the former was entrusted with the responsible task of conveying some French noblemen, in a half-decked sailing-boat, to join De Ruyter in the Dutch fleet, then lying off Harwich—so we are told in the account given by Mr. C.B. Norman, in "The Corsairs of France"; but Mr. Norman is very vague as to dates, and we can only conclude that this was during the interval between the "four days' fight," from June 1st to 4th, 1666, and the subsequent decisive action on July 25th and 26th. It is said that he distinguished himself in the "hard-fought action"—between Albemarle and De Ruyter—on August 6th following; but there is no record of any action on this date.
However, these matters are not of much importance, especially in the case of Jean Bart, concerning whom,as has been stated, fables are plentiful. It appears to be certain that he was some five years in the Dutch service, his heart being all this time with France; and when, in 1672, war was declared between France and the States-General, he immediately returned to Dunkirk, and entered upon his career as a privateersman. Commencing as a subordinate, he was given his first command in 1674—when he was four-and-twenty—a small vessel, mounting two guns, with a crew of thirty-six.
In this vessel—theKing David—Bart soon showed himself to be a bold and capable captain; in four or five months he captured six prizes. No fighting was entailed, it is true; but those who knew Jean Bart did not doubt that he could fight, should the occasion arise; and his old friend and "sea-daddy," Antoine Sauret, loafing and chatting with his cronies in Dunkirk, did not allow his young friend's exploits to be forgotten.
Naturally, his next command was a larger vessel—a brigantine, namedLa Royale, mounting ten guns, and his success continued unabated. He cruised in company with two other Dunkirk men, and made many captures, the most important being theEsperance, a States-General man-of-war, carrying 12 guns, by which he appears to have won great renown—though she was only overcome by the heavy odds against her, Bart having the assistance of at least one of his allies. However, there is no small merit in always contriving to outnumber the foe.
Having taken four months' leisure in order to getmarried, Jean Bart once more put out, in July 1675, and met with immediate success; and, capturing quite a number of fishing-vessels, he permitted the captains to ransom them for a handsome sum—a much more convenient arrangement, in many instances, than bringing a number of prizes into port; it was, however, forbidden, as liable to lead to great abuses, and Bart was deprived of half the proceeds and warned to be more careful in future—a warning to which he did not pay much heed. Ransoming was subsequently forbidden to British privateers, and other precautions against semi-piracy were instituted, more or less copied from the French, who were always in advance of us in their regulation of privateering.
So successful was Jean Bart inLa Royalethat early in 1676 he was given command of a much more important vessel—thePalme, of 24 guns, with a crew of 150 men—a regular frigate of those times. Again he was lucky in hunting in company, for he and his consorts were opposed to eight armed whalers and three privateers, which they fought for three hours, when Bart boarded and carried the largest, while his consorts secured the whalers, the two other privateers finding it too hot to remain.
Bart was by no means satisfied with these exploits. A genuine fighting man, he longed to be matched singly against a man-of-war or a privateer of fully his own force; and this wish was gratified on September 7th, 1676, when he fell in with a fleet of fishing-vessels, convoyed by theNeptune, a vessel carrying 32 guns. Bart sailed into the convoy, and, hoistinghis colours, fired a gun for the enemy to bring to. Up went the Dutch colours, with a broadside by way of emphasis; the Dutch captain was a man of Jean Bart's stamp—a foeman worthy of his steel—and they had a great fight.
For three hours, at close range, they battered each other, Bart all the while trying to get a favourable position for boarding, but being constantly frustrated by the good seamanship of the other. At length, however, theNeptunewas so seriously damaged aloft that she was no longer under full command; Bart, instantly and skilfully availing himself of the chance, got his vessel lashed alongside, and headed the boarding party, consisting of nearly all his crew. The Dutch captain, grievously wounded, sat on one side, like desperate Andrew Barton, and shouted to his men to lay on; but they were demoralised by the banging they had had, and Bart and his boarders were not to be denied; in a few minutes the affair was over, and the French flag replaced the Dutch. It was a proud moment for Jean Bart, and a proud day when he sailed into Dunkirk with the captured vessel in his wake, followed by the fleet of fishing-boats which his victory had thrown into his hands.
The fame of this exploit soon spread abroad, and one fine day Jean Bart received a gold chain from the king as a mark of appreciation of his prowess; at the same time the authorities began to discuss the question of keeping a list, or roll, of the best fighting privateer captains, in order that they might be transferred to the Navy in case of need—not necessarilyan advantage to a keen privateersman, as he would occupy at first a subordinate position, very irksome after the freedom of his former life, in command of his ship.
Colbert, the Minister of State, was very eager about the matter, and advocated giving the most efficient privateer commanders the rank of commodore among their brethren, so that they could operate in squadrons, and attack the enemy's men-of-war. He caused inquiries to be made at Dunkirk and other ports as to the character and capability of the leading privateersmen; and of course he received extremely favourable reports of Jean Bart, who meanwhile was again at sea in thePalme, doing great execution.
His employers soon displayed their appreciation of his services by providing him with a yet larger ship—theDauphin, of 30 guns, with a crew numbering 200. In this vessel, a year later, he encountered another Dutchman of the same sort as the captain of theNeptune.
Sailing in company with two smaller privateers, on June 18th, 1678, a Dutch frigate was sighted. The smallest privateer happened to be nearest to the enemy, who immediately attacked, hoping to carry her before her consorts could arrive. The Frenchman, however, handled his craft so judiciously as to keep his big antagonist in play until Bart came up. The two larger vessels—the Dutchman was theSherdam, Captain Ranc—at once got into action, while Bart's smaller consort stood off, awaiting a chance. Seeing his opportunity, Bart signalled toher to bear down, and between them they got the Dutchman in such a position that he could not avoid being boarded. A crowd of men from both French vessels was speedily on his deck; but they had no kind of a walk-over; Ranc, though severely wounded, rallied his men again and again, and it was not until two-thirds of his crew were disabled or killed that he at length surrendered.
Bart was wounded in the leg, and badly burnt by the discharge of a gun, almost in his face, as he leaped on board; six of his men were killed and thirty-one wounded, while as for the saucyDauphin, her career was at an end. So well had the Dutchmen plied their guns that her hull was shattered beyond repair, and it was with extreme difficulty that she was brought into harbour.
Bart, of course, had another ship at his disposal immediately—such an invincible corsair was not allowed to be idle—and he was at sea again in a fortnight, in theMars, of 32 guns; a few weeks later, however, the war came to an end, and he returned to Dunkirk to have a spell on shore.
And here the career of Jean Bart as a privateer captain comes to an end; in January 1679 he was given a commission as lieutenant in the navy. This was not very much to his taste; besides the comedown from captain to lieutenant, the aristocrats who predominated among French naval officers regarded a privateersman, thus pitchforked in among them, with a very supercilious air, and made things decidedly unpleasant for him.
However, Jean Bart pulled through this all right, and eventually had opportunity of displaying his capacity in the royal ships.
There are, as has been remarked, a number of romantic tales extant about Jean Bart; most of them are quite incredible, and for the others there is no reliable authority. One may be given here as a sample.
At Bergen, in the year 1691, it is said that Bart made the acquaintance of the captain of a large English vessel, who expressed a keen desire to meet him outside. Bart said if he would wait a few days his wish should be gratified, and sent word one day that he would sail on the morrow. The Englishman politely invited him to breakfast before they sailed to have it out, and Bart, after a little hesitation, accepted. After breakfast he lit his pipe, and soon remarked that it was time to go. "No," said the Englishman, "you are my prisoner!" "I am not your prisoner," replied Bart, "I will blow up your ship!" Rushing out of the cabin, with a lighted match, he ran to where stood a barrel of gunpowder which had most opportunely been hoisted up from the magazine—a cask with the head out, we must imagine, and the powder exposed. Here, of course, he had it all his own way; the Englishmen were afraid to touch him, lest he should put the match to the powder—and the crews of the French ships, having heard his shout of defiance, rallied on board the English vessel in numbers, cut down many of the crew, captured the ship, and carried her into Dunkirk.
It must be to this absurd story that M. Henri Malo alludes in "Les Corsaires," where he writes, in derision of privateering romances: "Privateers! We read in these accounts the names of heroes of romance—Jean Bart, smoking his pipe, mark you, on a barrel of gunpowder; Robert Surcouf, popularised in operetta."
Jean Bart deserves better than to be lampooned in this fashion; and, though he rose to distinction in the Navy, and there has almost always been a French man-of-war named after him, it is chiefly as the indomitable corsair that his memory is cherished in Dunkirk.
[11]The tenth Article of War, at that time, read as follows: "Every flag-officer, captain, and commander in the fleet who, upon signal or order of fight, or sight of any ship or ships which it may be his duty to engage, or who upon likelihood of engagement shall not make the necessary preparations for fight, and shall not in his own person, and according to his place, encourage the inferior officers and men to fight courageously, shall suffer death, or such other punishment as from the nature and degree of the offence a court-martial shall deem him to deserve; and if any person in the fleet shall treacherously or cowardly yield, or cry for quarter, every person so offending and being convicted thereof by the sentence of a court-martial, shall suffer death."
[11]The tenth Article of War, at that time, read as follows: "Every flag-officer, captain, and commander in the fleet who, upon signal or order of fight, or sight of any ship or ships which it may be his duty to engage, or who upon likelihood of engagement shall not make the necessary preparations for fight, and shall not in his own person, and according to his place, encourage the inferior officers and men to fight courageously, shall suffer death, or such other punishment as from the nature and degree of the offence a court-martial shall deem him to deserve; and if any person in the fleet shall treacherously or cowardly yield, or cry for quarter, every person so offending and being convicted thereof by the sentence of a court-martial, shall suffer death."
the 'duguay-trouin'
RENÉ DUGUAY-TROUIN, A FAMOUS FRENCH PRIVATEER CAPTAIN
DU GUAY TROUIN
Another hero, privateer first and naval officer later, was Du Guay Trouin—this being the name by which he was eventually known, and which has been bestowed upon more than one vessel of the French Navy in commemoration of his exploits. His family name was, properly speaking, Trouin; his father was Luc Trouin, calling himself, after an estate which he owned, Trouin de la Barbinais. The future privateer captain and hero was the third son, and was born on June 10th, 1673, being named René, after his uncle, then French consul at Malaga—a post which had been held for some generations, apparently, by some member of the Trouin family. Little René, placed under the care of a nursing woman at the village of Le Gué, near by, became known as René Trouin du Gué, which was twisted about until it became Du Gué, or Du Guay Trouin.
René was by no means intended from the first to follow an adventurous career at sea; his father had a very different aim in view. His uncle and namesake, René Trouin the consul, who was also his godfather, was very friendly with the Archbishop at Malaga, and it was considered politic that the boy should become an ecclesiastic, and so benefit by the friendliness of the prelate towards his uncle; and indeed, he was actually sent to the seminary at Rennes, as a very small boy, to commence his studies for the priesthood—very much against his will, but Luc Trouin was not to be trifled with; and so, until he was fifteen years of age, René was held to be destined for the Church.
Then came a sudden change—his uncle and his father died within a year of one another, and he prevailed upon his mother to permit him to quit the seminary and study for the law. With this end in view he was sent to Caen, but we do not learn that he became a very diligent student—on the contrary, he displayed extreme precocity in getting into mischief of every kind, the only good thing he learnt, apparently, being the use of the sword; and finally, having betaken himself to Paris to kick up his heels, he heard the waiter in a café order some wine forMonsieur Trouin de la Barbinais, his eldest brother, who imagined him to be engaged upon his studies at Caen—and thither young René fled incontinently. His brother had, however, got wind of his proceedings; he was summoned home, a family court-martial held upon him, and he was sentenced to be sent off to sea, in a privateer of 18 guns, theTrinité, fitted out by the house of Trouin. As René was then only sixteen it was obviously a wholesome programme for a lad of such precocious proclivities; he was soonto prove, however, that he was in advance of his age in other matters than dissipation.
There was not much doing for a year or two; but, after having assisted to take a small prize into St. Malo, young Du Trouin soon had an opportunity of seeing hard knocks exchanged.
This was in a fight with a Dutch privateer, theConcorde, a vessel of equal force, but theTrinitéhad some thirty men absent in prizes. However, the skipper, Fossart, was not a man who was afraid of odds, and, seeing the stranger to leeward, cracked on his canvas in chase, came up with her about noon, and fired a blank cartridge, followed by a shot across the Dutchman's bows. This elicited the desired response—or, at least, the expected response—of a broadside, and they went at it, hammer and tongs, for over two hours, by which time theConcordewas considerably knocked about and the Frenchman thought it was time to finish the affair by boarding. Directly the two vessels touched the captain sprang on board. Young Du Guay Trouin leaped beside him. As he did so, the vessels rebounded apart, and several Frenchmen fell between them, only to be crushed to death as the helmsman brought theTrinitéup again. An old acquaintance of Du Guay Trouin was among the number, being killed, to his horror, under his very eyes. However, there was no time for lamentations over lost comrades. René's skill with the sword now came into play, and he used it to good purpose, killing two out of three Dutchmen who were attacking his captain. The Dutchmenyielded, after a creditable resistance; and so Du Guay Trouin had his baptism of fire and sword.
On his next ship, theGrenedan, he took a prominent part in the capture of three out of a convoy of fifteen English ships off the south-west coast of Ireland. Young as he was, he was always in the front rank when fighting was going; and on his return, theGrenedanentering the harbour at St. Malo with the three prizes in her wake, amidst enthusiastic cheers from the townspeople, his brother thought he might be entrusted with the command of a ship. This was in the year 1691, when he was not yet turned eighteen, and of course he would never have got a command at that age under ordinary circumstances. He had, however, proved himself to be something other than an ordinary lad, and his brother, as head of the house, had the power to appoint him captain of one of their privateers, if he was so minded. Accordingly, the young sailor was given command of theDanycan—not much of a craft, being a slow sailer and not heavily armed.
Caught in a gale of wind, the vessel was blown down Channel, and afterwards chasing some vessels—she could never catch them—into the Shannon, Du Guay Trouin landed his men in the night, burnt a couple of vessels on the beach, did a little pillaging, and alarmed the whole district. Messages were sent hot-foot to Limerick for the soldiers—it was a French fleet, an invasion in force! Du Guay Trouin embarked his men just as the soldiers came in sight, up anchor, and got away cleverly. This was theonly fun he had in theDanycan, for every vessel she encountered could "wrong" her, as they used to say in those days; that is to say, could sail round her; so there was not much honour and glory to be got out of her.
On his return to St. Malo Du Guay Trouin was given a better craft—theCoëtquen, of 18 guns. It is said that he held his commission from James II., the ex-king of England—it is certain that James did issue such commissions after his abdication, and indeed his consort, theSaint Aaron, commanded by one Welch, of Irish extraction, was thus commissioned.
Du Guay Trouin soon had some exciting adventures. Falling in with a fleet of English merchant vessels, under convoy of a couple of sloops, the two privateers captured five ships and the two men-of-war; but, as they were taking their prizes into St. Malo, an English squadron gave chase; then they had to get in where they could. Welch got safely into St. Malo with some of the vessels; Du Guay Trouin, being cornered, made a dash for the Isle of Brehat, behind which the navigation is of the most intricate and perilous description, with dozens of half-submerged rocks and a swishing tide. He managed to get in, and some of the English vessels which tried to follow him very nearly came to grief. He had been under fire for some time, and unluckily his pilot was killed, and also some others who were familiar with the locality; so he contrived to find his way out without them, thus displaying that sort of intuitive skill in navigation and the handling of a ship which has almostalways distinguished great seamen. He was not an accomplished navigator, having neglected his studies; he was accustomed to trust entirely to "dead reckoning." Certainly, the means of observing the altitude, etc., of the sun and stars were very rude in those days; but Du Guay Trouin was not expert even with these.
However, he got out of this trap, was presently blown into the Bristol Channel, and found an English 60-gun ship arriving about the same time. "Luckily," says one of his biographers, "there is an island in the middle of this estuary; while the enemy came in on one side of it Du Guay Trouin went out on the other." This, of course, is Lundy Island; and, getting a good start, Du Guay Trouin escaped cleverly—going out, so to speak, by the back door as his opponent came in by the front.
After this Du Guay Trouin had a bad time in theProfond, a very poor sailer, and altogether an unlucky ship, so that he was glad to see the last of her, and take command of theHercule, of 28 guns.
After a little good fortune, he again fell upon evil days. No prey was sighted for two months, provisions began to run short, sickness broke out among the crew, discontent and insubordination soon followed. The officers and men demanded that he should return to France, but, partly by conciliation and partly by firmness, he persuaded them to keep the sea for eight days longer, promising them that, if they did capture a prize, they should pillage her and divide the spoil. On the last night at sea, Du Guay Trouin tells us, he had a vivid dream that two deeply laden ships hovein sight; at daybreak he went aloft—and there they were! He took them both; they were rich prizes, and the crew were made happy by being allowed, as he had promised, to pillage one of them.
His next ship was theDiligente, of 40 guns; and in her he was destined to experience the misfortune of defeat and capture. First, however, he came across thePrince of Orange, a hired armed vessel of considerable force—Du Guay Trouin says of 60 guns—convoying a fleet of thirty vessels. Having hailed one of them, and ascertained that they were laden with coal, he determined not to risk loss and damage for such a comparatively worthless cargo. Finding however, that his vessel easily "had the heels" of the other, he indulged in some aggravating antics, taking in sail so as to allow the English to come within gunshot, shooting ahead again, under English colours, which he hoisted "union down,"i.e.as a signal "Am in need of assistance"; then, dropping down once more, he so far forgot himself as to fire at the other while still under English colours—a gross breach of international law, accounted as an act of piracy. It was done, no doubt, through inadvertence, but the English captain did not forget it, and the Frenchman had cause to regret his carelessness.
And then came misfortune; nine days later he fell in with a squadron of six English men-of-war cruising between Ireland and the Scilly Isles. They immediately gave chase. A hard gale blowing, Du Guay Trouin ran for the Scilly Isles, hard pressed by theAdventureandDragon. In among the islandsthey ran, and by eleven o'clock theAdventurewas near enough to engage, theDiligentereplying with her stern guns. Still gaining in the heavy breeze, theAdventure—a 44-gun ship—was within easy range, theDragon—46 guns—not far astern. Du Guay Trouin engaged theAdventurefor nearly three hours, hoping all the time to escape; however, at half-past two his fore and main topmasts were shot away, and the English vessel ranged up alongside, hauling up her courses, theDragonat the same time signalising her arrival by a broadside.
This was a pretty desperate state of affairs, but the gallant Frenchman would not yet acknowledge himself beaten. Seeing the English vessel so near, he conceived the idea of suddenly boarding her, and carrying her off. He sent his officers to call the crew on deck, got the grapnels ready, and ordered the helm to be put over. The two ships were rapidly closing when one of the lieutenants of theDiligente, looking through a port, and not imagining for a moment that his captain really contemplated such a desperate measure, ordered the quartermaster to reverse the helm. The ships fell apart, but Du Guay Trouin shouted to jam the helm over again. It was too late; the English captain, knowing that he and his consorts had the Frenchman secure, did not see the use of having a hundred and fifty desperate men jumping on board, so he set his courses, sheered off, and banged away again with his guns. TheMonk, of 60 guns, now arrived, and theDiligentewas fairly surrounded, two more ships coming up shortly.
Still the French flag was kept flying. The men, less heroic than their captain, began to run from their quarters. Du Guay Trouin cut down one, pistolled another, and was hustling them generally, when fire broke out below. He rushed down and had it extinguished, then provided himself with a tub of grenades, which he began throwing down into the hold, so that his crew found it too hot to remain below, and manned some of the guns. However, this could not go on against such fearful odds, and on gaining the deck once more he found that "some cowardly rascal" had lowered the colours. He ordered them up again, but his officers demurred; and then, with the last shot fired in the action, he was wounded severely in the groin and dropped senseless. When he came to himself the ship was in the possession of the English. He was taken on board theMonk, where Captain Warren treated him right well—"with as much care as though I had been his own son," says Du Guay Trouin—and he was probably quite old enough to have been father to the young French captain, who was then only one-and-twenty.
Arriving at Plymouth, the gallant young Frenchman became the object of much interest and favour; naval and military officers entertained him, civilians followed suit, and he was given, as he says, "the whole town for his prison"; in other words, he was placed on his parole, and allowed full liberty. Always susceptible to the attractions of women, he found, as he tells us, "une fort jolie marchande"—a sweetlypretty shop-girl, or shop-woman, with whom he formed a close acquaintance, and who was eventually mainly instrumental in procuring his liberty. Pretty girls, as we know, are reputed to be more abundant in Devonshire than in many other parts, and no doubt the Frenchman found her very seductive. It is curious what a diversity of parts this young woman is made to assume among the biographers of Du Guay Trouin. One makes her out just a shop-girl; another says she was "une jeune marchande qui preparait les repas de Duguay"—a young shop-woman who prepared his meals—while Mr. C.B. Norman, on what ground does not appear, calls her a "faircompatriote"—a Frenchwoman, married to a "Devonshire merchant," and has a good deal to say about the way in which she hoodwinked her good husband while she was obtaining information for the young Frenchman when he was in prison; we shall get him there directly. Du Guay Trouin, in his "Mémoires," simply speaks of her as already quoted; and "marchande" certainly does not mean "merchant's wife."
However, there she is, being entertained sometimes by Du Guay Trouin, and no doubt very proud of being the object of his attentions—just a shop-girl, he says; and he ought to know.
This delightful condition of affairs was, however, unexpectedly interrupted, for one fine day there arrived thePrince of Orange, to refit after seeing her colliers safe; and the captain soon recognised, in the prize lying at anchor, the vessel which fired athim under the English flag. He was in a great state of mind, reported the circumstances to the Admiralty, and demanded that Du Guay Trouin should be treated as a pirate. The authorities demurred to this request, but thought it advisable, during their deliberations, that he should not have "the whole town for his prison"; so they put him in gaol, allowing him, however, to order his own food and entertain his friends there. The English officers who took turns on guard at the prison were very glad to dine with him; and "my pretty shop-girl also came very often to pay me a visit."
Too often, apparently, for the peace of mind of a young French refugee officer, doing duty with an English company of soldiers; and he actually came to Du Guay Trouin and begged his good offices to induce the girl to marry him—or, at least, to show him favour. Du Guay Trouin was at first disposed to refuse indignantly, though he apparently wishes to imply that his intimacy with her was quite innocent. It occurred to him, however, that the young soldier's infatuation might be turned to good account.
He would, he said, serve him with all his heart; but he was rather worried in his room, and could not see his way to do much unless he could entertain her in some more open place—the café close to the prison would do very well; she could come there without suspicion, and, if he had but one chance there, he would use all his eloquence with her, and would even arrange that the love-lorn young soldier should spend the rest of the evening with her.
The bait was too strong for his loyalty. Du Guay Trouin, having established an understanding with "his gentle shop-girl," represented to her feelingly that the trial of imprisonment would soon cause him to succumb if she would not have the goodness to assist him to escape; which, of course, she did, first becoming his messenger to a Swedish captain, who sold him a good boat for £35, with sails and oars complete.
The whole scheme came off to admiration. Du Guay Trouin, with the connivance of the impatient lover, who had seen his lady enter the café, left his room and followed, the young officer only imploring him not to keep him long in suspense. "But," says Du Guay Trouin, "I scarcely gave myself time to thank and kiss that wholesome little friend"—he was out at the back, over the wall, and in the company of some of his officers and six stalwart, well-armed Swedish sailors before the French officer had any time to be anxious; and by ten o'clock they were in the boat, sailing by the men-of-war, answering "Fishermen" to the hail of the sentries, and so to sea. They reached the island of Brehat after a rough passage of fifty hours, and, after resting for a while, made their way to St. Malo, where Du Guay Trouin learned that his brother had a fine ship fitting out for him at Rochefort.
Whether the love-sick soldier went to look for "la jolie marchande" and what she said to him are not recorded; but it is to be feared that he experienced a rude awakening.
In his new command, namedFrançois, of 48 guns,Du Guay Trouin was soon busy, taking several prizes of considerable value off the coast of Ireland. He was longing, however, for an opportunity of avenging himself for his defeat and capture, and early in the year 1695 he had his wish, encountering a large convoy of vessels laden with huge spars, suitable for masts, etc., bound from North America, under the protection of theNonsuch, of 48 guns. One of the convoy, theFalcon, was also well armed, carrying 38 guns, according to Du Guay Trouin, and pierced for 72. He calls theFalcontheBoston, and theNonsuchby the equivalent French name,Sanspareil.
He says that the inhabitants of Boston had had theFalconbuilt, and loaded with valuable mast-timber and choice skins, as a present to King William III.
Sighting the enemy about noon, Du Guay Trouin immediately attacked theFalcon, and with his first few broadsides inflicted immense damage, sending her maintopmast by the board, and smashing her mainyard. Leaving her for a time, he laid his ship on board theNonsuch, the two ships exchanging a hot fire from great guns and small arms the while. The Frenchmen discharged a number of grenades on the decks of theNonsuch, and then the boarders leaped across; but fire broke out on the after part of the English ship, and raged with such fury that Du Guay Trouin was compelled to recall his men and disengage his vessel. Seeing the flames nearly extinguished, he closed again; but he was premature, for the fire once more flared up, and caught his own maintopsailand foresail. While both ships were busy tackling the fire night came on, and they fell apart, repairing damages on both sides.
At daybreak Du Guay Trouin renewed his attack upon theNonsuch; but just as he was laying her aboard her fore and mainmasts fell with a crash, and he was compelled once more to sheer off—this time however, with the certainty that she was his. Seeing theFalconmaking all sail in the endeavour to escape, he steered for her, and very quickly obtained her submission; meanwhile, theNonsuchhad lost her remaining mast, and was an absolute wreck, sorely damaged also in her hull.
Thus the determined young French captain had things all his own way; and he thoroughly deserved his success, which was the outcome of fine seamanship, backed by good gunnery and indomitable courage.
The captain of theNonsuchwas killed. The court-martial which was subsequently held on the surviving officers found that he had not made adequate preparation for fighting, and so was overcome by a considerably inferior force, for theNonsuchand theFrançoiswere about equal. All the vessels engaged were very badly damaged, and, a gale of wind springing up immediately after the action, their position became very hazardous. TheFalconwas recaptured by four Dutch privateers; theNonsuchandFrançoiswith difficulty managed to reach port.
On hearing of this achievement the King of France sent Du Guay Trouin a sword of honour, and his name was in every mouth.
He sailed next with a squadron under the Marquis de Nesmond which captured the English 70-gun ship theHope, and subsequently he and a consort took three East Indiamen, with cargoes valued at about one million sterling.
After having been, to his great delight and exultation, presented to the king in Paris, he fitted out theNonsuch, under the nameSanspareil, with an armament of 42 guns, and cruised off the coast of Spain. On this cruise there occurred an incident which was very characteristic of Du Guay Trouin's presence of mind and audacity.
Having news of three Dutch merchant ships lying at Vigo awaiting the escort of an English man-of-war, he took advantage of the English build and appearance of his ship, and hoisting English colours, appeared in the entrance of Vigo Bay. Two of the Dutchmen, completely deceived, immediately joined him, and were, of course, captured; the third, luckily for her, was not ready for sea.
This was all very nice; but one fine morning, at daybreak, he found himself close under the lee of a strong English fleet. Many men would have despaired of getting out of such a trap; but Du Guay Trouin instantly conceived a plan of action. Signalling to his prize-masters in the two Dutch ships to salute him with seven guns, and run to leeward, he calmly stood towards the fleet, as though he belonged to it, and had merely fallen out to overhaul the two Dutch vessels. Two large ships and a 36-gun frigate hauled out of line to inspect him, but, being completelydeceived by his appearance and nonchalance, they desisted—the frigate, however, displaying undue curiosity with regard to the two Dutch vessels. This was very disturbing, and Du Guay Trouin was on tenter-hooks as he watched her approach them; however, he kept jogging along quietly with the English fleet, until, by edging away gradually, he was in a position to make a run for it. Setting all his canvas, he tried to place himself between the frigate and his prizes; and he rapidly conceived the glorious idea of boarding and capturing the frigate in view of the whole fleet—most likely he would have succeeded, as he had a far more numerous crew; but the English captain began to suspect, and, keeping a gunshot to windward, lowered a boat to board and question Du Guay Trouin. When it was half-way on its journey, the boat's crew suddenly realised the truth, and hastily returned; upon which Du Guay Trouin hoisted his colours and opened fire on the frigate. This woke up the Englishmen—who must, indeed, have been very sleepy—and several large ships detached themselves and came down upon theSanspareil; before they could reach her, however, the frigate, much damaged by Du Guay Trouin's fire, made urgent signals of distress, and while they were soothing the frigate and recovering her boat, Du Guay Trouin quietly made off and took his prizes safely into port! He was really a glorious fellow—and only now three-and-twenty.
Du Guay Trouin, shortly after this, had cause of complaint against a naval captain whom he encounteredat sea, and who, evidently jealous of his successes, fired on his boat, and, calling him on board his ship, rated him in the most contemptuous and insulting manner, threatening to "keel-haul" him, and so on. This is a good example of the behaviour of the aristocratic naval officers towards privateersmen, and it is not surprising if the latter demurred to accepting commissions in the Navy. Du Guay Trouin, however, was destined ere long to take his place there, after a most tremendous and bloody encounter with some Dutch men-of-war escorting a fleet of merchantmen.
He was then commanding theSt. Jacques des Victoires, and had in company his old ship theSanspareil, commanded by his cousin, Jacques Boscher, and theLeonore, of 16 guns. Being joined, after sighting this fleet, under the care of two 50-gun and one 30-gun ship, by two large St. Malo privateers, Du Guay Trouin reckoned that he was strong enough to attack—with five ships to three, though theLeonoredid not count for much in such an action. However, he despatched her to seize some of the convoy, told his cousin in theSanspareilto tackle one of the 50-gun ships while he went for the other, and the two St. Malo men took care of the frigate in the middle. By the action of the Dutchmen Du Guay Trouin and his cousin exchanged antagonists; the ship destined for Boscher fell foul of theSt. Jacques, and Trouin, with his customary promptitude and impetuosity, immediately launched half his crew on board and carried her. The Dutch commodore's ship, theDelft, proved a very hard nut to crack. TheSanspareilwasrepulsed with great loss, her poop on fire, cartridges exploding promiscuously, and nearly a hundred men blown up, shot dead, or wounded. She sheered off, and Du Guay Trouin ran alongside theDelft, to be received with even greater warmth. Her captain, an heroic man, fought like a demon, and theSt. Jacquesalso was forced to haul off to breathe the men, who were getting somewhat disheartened, and repair considerable damages. Meanwhile, the larger of the St. Malo vessels, theFaluère, was directed to keep the redoubtable Dutchman amused, but she soon had enough of it, losing her captain, and running to leeward.
Du Guay Trouin was not going to give in, however. He rallied his men, and, summoning theFaluèreto his aid, he went for theDelftonce more—as he says, "with head down." He got her—but it cost him more than half his crew, and every one of the Dutch officers was killed or wounded. The commodore, Baron de Wassenaer, fell on his quarter-deck with four deadly wounds, his sword still grasped in his hand, and was made prisoner.
Then they had an awful night, for it came on to blow hard, on a lee shore; all the ships were frightfully battered and leaking, masts and rigging cut to pieces, and the already exhausted crews had to turn to at the pumps for dear life. On board theSt. Jacquesthe Dutch prisoners were set to work to lighten the ship by throwing overboard all her upper-deck guns, spars, shot—everything movable, to keep her afloat.
Day broke at length, the wind abated, and, with the assistance of boats from the shore, the ship was broughtin: a sorry wreck, indeed, but the fruits of her labour soon came to hand—three Dutch men-of-war and twelve ships of the convoy. TheSanspareilarrived twenty-four hours later, having barely survived the Dutchman's furious onslaught.
For this service Du Guay Trouin received a commission as commander in the Navy, and was again presented to the king.
As a regular naval officer, he no longer remains within the scope of these pages; but there is one incident which should not be omitted, even though it be somewhat to the discredit of the English.
In the year 1704 Du Guay Trouin was in command of theJason, 54 guns, in company with theAuguste, of equal force, when they fell in, at night, with the English shipChatham, an old antagonist, which had before escaped them. At daybreak they were on either side of her, blazing away, the English vessel making every effort to escape, while maintaining creditably her part in the fighting, and the three of them ran into the English fleet. Then things became serious for the two French ships: some of the fastest sailers in the fleet were sent after them. TheAugustewas a poor sailer, so they agreed to separate. But the English had force enough to pursue them both, and theAugustewas soon disposed of. TheJasonheld on, and presently was tackled by theWorcester, of 50 guns, which was considerably knocked about, and dropped astern. Other ships came up, however, and, supported by their presence, theWorcesteragain attacked indecisively. With the dusk, the winddropped altogether, and there was theJason, surrounded by foes in the darkness, only waiting for daylight to eat her up.
Naturally, her captain did not find it easy to sleep; and it was characteristic of him that he still planned in his mind some desperate measure. He told his officers that he intended to go straight for the English flagship; that he himself would take the helm and run aboard her, and that he thus hoped to perform a brilliant feat of arms, by carrying this ship, before they succumbed to superior force—and in any case, his flag was not coming down unless the enemy could get there to haul it down themselves.
With this heroic resolve in contemplation, he paced the deck. There was not a breath of wind. The ship rolled a little uneasily, the timbers creaking and blocks rattling aloft, while the few sails that were set slatted against the masts and rigging occasionally in that irritating fashion with which all seamen are familiar. At various distances round him were the enemy's vessels, few of them probably out of gunshot, and some very near.
About an hour before daybreak Du Guay Trouin noticed a dark line above the horizon ahead of his ship; he watched it carefully, and felt convinced that a breeze was coming from that quarter. Calling the crew quietly on deck, he made sail, braced the yards up, and with one or two of the huge oars or "sweeps" provided in those days, he got the ship's head round so as to catch the breeze in a favourable manner in case it should come. And it did come: at first abreath, which barely gave the ship steerage-way; then a little stronger—she steals ahead, two knots, three knots; the Englishmen are all taken aback, with their topsails lowered, their yards braced anyhow. Before they can make and trim sail theJasonis clear of the ruck of them, a good gunshot clear! TheWorcesterwas once more the only one to tackle her, and was soon shaken off—by noon she was fast dropping astern; and, says Du Guay Trouin, "I looked on myself as though risen from the dead."
Well he might do, too. And what were all those Englishmen thinking about, each ship with an officer in charge of the deck? One would imagine that they could see a breeze coming as well as a Frenchman could. But Du Guay Trouin had one essential element of success about him—-he never threw away a chance.
He died in 1736. France may well be proud of him. Think of a lad of one-and-twenty, pressed by half a dozen ships among the Scilly Islands, conceiving that plan of boarding and capturing theAdventure! That incident alone is sufficient to mark him as excelling by many degrees the average—nay, the more than average—fighting seaman.
JACQUES CASSARD
Among the less well-known French privateersmen is Jacques Cassard, a native of Nantes, where there stands to this day a commemorative statue of him.
He was born in 1672, and so was a contemporary of Du Guay Trouin. The son of a seafarer, young Jacques was predestined to a similar life, but there is very little known of his early doings. He appears to have commenced as a privateer at the early age of fourteen, and he must evidently have established, during the following ten years, a reputation for skill and daring, for when he was five-and-twenty he was selected to command the bomb-ship in an expedition against Carthagena, under De Pointis, in 1697.
The sluggish and unseaworthy vessel which Cassard commanded parted company from the squadron while crossing the Atlantic, but in due course he arrived at St. Domingo, the rendezvous, where was assembled a formidable squadron, with 5,000 troops, and a contingent of 1,200 filibustering ruffians under Du Casse, Governor of St. Domingo.
The first assault by the ships on the forts at Carthagena was met with such a furious fire that De Pointiswas glad to haul off for a time; Cassard, however, backed up by Du Casse, was so insistent in urging an immediate renewal of the attack that they carried the day. Cassard distinguished himself throughout; he took his little bomb-vessel close under the strongest fort and bombarded it mercilessly. When the Spaniards' fire began to slacken he and Du Casse led the assault on the battered defences, and, after a desperate conflict, carried the first fort. Cassard, prompt and resourceful, turned the guns upon an adjacent work, and by the evening the Spaniards, driven to the citadel, displayed the flag of surrender.
It was after the defenders had marched out, followed by numbers of the townspeople, however, that Cassard performed the most valuable service. A scene of horror ensued: the regulars and filibusters, mad with drink and lust, scoured the town, ransacked churches and houses, and perpetrated shocking outrages. Their officers lost all control, and were even shot down by the mad rioters when they attempted to remonstrate.
Then Cassard, having obtained permission to take the matter in hand, picked out a band of about three hundred Bretons from among the crews of the war-ships, and landed with them. He did not mince matters. He was well aware that the only course to pursue, with any hope of success, was to meet savagery with savagery, and the plunderers soon found themselves confronted with the alternative of submission or death. They fought it out in forty-eight hours, Cassard guarding the gates strongly, and searching systematically every quarter of the town. With hisown hand he is said to have shot down a score of looters; and when it was over he had to arrange for the burial of three hundred and seventy unhappy women, who had been ill-treated and murdered, often in the very churches.
De Pointis, on their return, strongly recommended Cassard for a commission in the Navy, but prejudice was too strong against his class, and it was not until nearly three years later, after some successful privateering, that he was summoned to the royal presence. "I have need," said the king, "of all the brave men I can find for my Navy, and as you, they say, are the bravest of the brave, I have appointed you a lieutenant in my fleet, and have given instructions that a sum of £2,000 be handed over to you, to enable you to support your position in a proper manner."
This was all very well; but his newly earned honours sat heavily upon him, and the jealousy of the naval aristocrats made things unpleasant; so it was in the capacity of commander of a private ship of war that he gained further laurels.
This was theSt. William, fitted out by merchants of St. Malo in 1705, a small vessel, mounting only eight guns of insignificant power and manned by sixty-eight harum-scarum fellows picked up on the quays at St. Malo.
After a fruitless cruise he returned to refit, and then made a successful raid upon small traders off the south coast of Ireland, thereby gaining a little prize-money to encourage his crew. After a visit to Brest, he was returning to the coast of Ireland when he cameacross a Dutchman of greatly superior force, with which he had an heroic encounter.
The Dutchman fired the usual "summoning" gun, to which Cassard paid no heed. A shot across his bows followed, but he held on his course. The Dutchman cleared for action, crowding sail and rapidly overhauling theSt. William. It looked like a foregone conclusion that she should succumb to this formidable adversary, carrying fourteen 9-pounders.
Cassard, however, had his own ideas as to the conduct of the engagement. As the enemy rapidly came up, pounding him with his bow-guns, the Frenchman suddenly shortened sail, squared his mainyard, and threw his ship aboard the other. A discharge of grape and chain-shot from theSt. William's3-pounders was instantly followed by a rush of sixty desperate men, headed by their captain.
A most bloody encounter ensued. Dutchmen are not easily beaten, and the deck had to be gained step by step. It is said that Cassard had told off one of his leading men to endeavour, the moment he gained a footing on board, to run in one of the Dutchman's guns and point it along the deck; and while the remainder were at grips with the enemy, this man and half a dozen others contrived to effect this, loaded the gun with langrage—which means any odd bit of metal you can scrape up—and watched for a chance. Then they shouted, "Stand clear of the gun!" The French suddenly parted to either side of the deck, and the shower of iron peppered the astonished Dutchmen. This was twice accomplished, the Frenchmen eachtime rushing forward in the smoke; and then the Dutch captain, wounded and bleeding, proffered his sword to Cassard. It was a good device, if the story be true; but not as easy of accomplishment as it is made to appear in the accounts of the action.
It is said that the Dutch loss, out of a crew of 113, was 37 killed and 51 wounded. Cassard had 16 killed and 23 wounded.
Some three or four years of success followed, during which Cassard adopted the illegal, but tempting device of ransoming his prizes and taking the captains as hostages for payment—a practice for which, like Jean Bart, he was brought to book, without very much practical result. However, he made a great deal of money, and in the year 1709[12]he was appealed to by some merchants of Marseilles to convoy from Bizerta, on the north coast of Tunis, a fleet of grain-ships—an urgent business, as France was in very great need of grain. He was induced to put his hand in his pocket and fit out at his own expense two men-of-war—theÉclatantandSerieux—lent by the Government, the latter of which he commanded himself, and made sail for Bizerta, where he found the grain-ships safe enough. The difficulty was, to get them safely to Marseilles, the English fleet being on the alert. With this end in view he had recourse to a ruse, which is not very clearly set forth in the accounts; but in the end he enticed a frigate out of Malta and led her away fromhis convoy, which he had left in charge of theÉclatant, though it involved a desperate running action with a vessel of superior force, in which he nearly came to grief.
Arriving at length at Marseilles, he found that the grain-ships had turned up safely, which was really a great triumph; but the wily merchants were too cunning for the simple seaman. There was, it appears, a clause in the agreement to the effect that Cassard should bring in the convoy—it is easy to imagine how such a document would be worded—and, because he had not personally conducted the ships into port, the merchants refused to pay him the stipulated sum for his services! He appealed, but the merchants had too many friends at court; so he found himself some £10,000 out of pocket in the long run, as a reward for averting a famine by his skill and courage.
He was destined, however, to repeat the exploit. In June 1709 a huge fleet of eighty-four merchant vessels, under convoy of six men-of-war, was despatched to Smyrna to bring back grain. The squadron consisted of theTeméraire, 60,Toulouse, 60,Stendard, 50,Fleuron, 50,Hirondelle, 36, andVestale, 36, under the command of M. de Feuquières. Reaching Smyrna in safety, they sailed in October on the return voyage, with their precious freight; but De Feuquières, learning that a strong English squadron was watching for him in the Gulf of Genoa, put into Syracuse, in Sicily; and sent theToulouseto Marseilles for additional force.
The people of Marseilles shamelessly appealed to Cassard, whom they had treated so scurvily; he refused at first to have anything to do with it. However, he was eventually placed in command of a little squadron, consisting of theParfait, 70, with his flag; theToulouse, Captain De Lambert;Serieux, 60, Captain De l'Aigle; andPhœnix, 56, Captain Du Haies.
With a fair wind, on November 8th he sailed for Syracuse, according to Mr. Norman, arriving there on the evening of the following day—a feat which may be safely put down as practically impossible, the distance being over 650 nautical miles, or knots. However, there is no doubt that Cassard arrived off Syracuse one day, and found only two English men-of-war watching for the grain fleet, instead of a strong squadron, as he expected. With these he resolved to deal at once, and bore down upon them.
The two English ships were thePembroke, 64, Captain Edward Rumsey—notRumfry, as Mr. Norman calls him, probably from some French document—and theFalcon, 36, Captain Charles Constable, the remainder of the squadron having gone to Mahon, in Corsica, to refit. ThePembrokehad apparently had her turn there and returned to her station a few days previously, theFalconjoining her.
When Cassard's squadron hove in sight and Captain Rumsey, having failed to receive from them the acknowledgment of the private signal, realised that he was in for a serious business, he signalled theFalconto shorten sail, and, running up alongside her, he asked Captain Constable what he made of the strangers, towhich the latter replied that one of them was a very big ship, but he could not make much of the others.
"Shall we fight them?" shouted Rumsey through his speaking-trumpet. "Just as you please, sir!" bawled Constable. "That's no answer," rejoined Rumsey. "With all my heart," said Constable, and they cleared for action—none too soon, for the French ships, bringing up a stronger breeze with them, were already almost within gunshot.
Cassard had signalled Feuquières to weigh and convoy the grain-ships out while he engaged the two English ships. Rumsey, realising that he was imperatively called upon to prevent, or at least to retard their escape, had probably made up his mind before he spoke to Constable. Leaving only two ships there was a blunder, and he really had no choice about fighting, for he could not well have escaped.
The action which ensued was one of the most stubborn sea-fights on record. Cassard attacked with three ships, theParfaitranging alongside theFalcon, while theSerieuxandPhœnixtackled thePembroke. If the Frenchmen expected an easy conquest of theFalconby the huge 70-gun ship they were very much in error. With her crew of 740 men theParfaitwas run alongside, and her bowsprit lashed to the fore-rigging of theFalcon. Instantly Constable turned the tables on the foe, rushing on board at the head of one hundred men. They were repulsed, with heavy losses on both sides, and before Cassard could return the compliment the two ships fell apart. TheFalcon'sflight was soon stayed by the heavy fire of theFrench ship, which brought down spars and cut rigging extensively, and once more Cassard laid her on board. His first attack was repelled by the indomitable Constable and his men; but the price was too heavy: something like 120 men had been killed or desperately wounded already, and Constable, taking counsel with his officers, was forced to the conclusion that it was useless to sacrifice more lives, and so hauled down his colours; he had been badly wounded in the shoulder, but kept his place on deck. According to Captain Schomberg, in his "Naval Chronology," there were only sixteen men of theFalcon'screw able to stand at their quarters when she surrendered.
Meanwhile, thePembrokeand the other two ships were hammering each other at close range, and much damage resulted on both sides. After an hour and a half of fighting Captain Rumsey, who had behaved splendidly, was killed, and Barkley, the first lieutenant, came on deck and took his place. For two hours after the captain's death the unequal conflict was maintained: Cassard came down and joined the fray after theFalconwas captured, and had a tremendous cannonade with thePembroke, yardarm to yardarm, while theSerieuxpounded her on the other quarter. It could not last; the English ship's mizzen-mast went crashing by the board, her maintopmast followed, her rigging was nearly all cut away, her mainmast wounded and tottering, her decks lumbered with wreckage, which also rendered the ship almost unmanageable, and the crew falling by tens—to hold out longer would beworse than useless, so Barkley and his brother officers agreed, and the colours had to come down.
The losses on both sides afforded ample testimony to the splendid courage of the Englishmen and the gallant pertinacity of the French. Six months later Constable and the surviving officers of thePembrokewere tried by court-martial, were judged to have done their duty, and honourably acquitted.
It now remains to clear up some chronological discrepancies. According to Mr. Norman, this engagement took place on November 10th, 1710, and Cassard entered Toulon with his prizes on the 15th. Where he obtained these dates does not appear; but, as a matter of fact, the court-martial took place on June 21st, 1710, and the sworn testimony of the officers of both ships places the engagement on December 29th, 1709; Captain Rumsey wrote from Mahon on December 10th, reporting to the admiral—Sir Edward Whittaker—that his ship had been careened, and was nearly ready for sea. These official reports being unimpeachable, it appears probable that the first affair with the grain-ships took place in 1708, as has already been hinted.[13]
However, this does not affect the actual facts with regard to the engagement, which was so creditable to both sides.
Promoted to the rank of commander, Cassard was appointed to command the military works in progress at Toulon; but he was not happy in this post, and, after trying in vain to obtain restitution of the moneyhe had lost on the first grain venture, he took command of a squadron, consisting of nine vessels, men-of-war, but fitted out by private enterprise in St. Malo and Nantes.
With this force, and a proportional number of troops, he took St. Iago, in the Cape Verde Islands, then crossed the Atlantic and pillaged Montserrat and Antigua, ransomed Surinam and St. Eustatia, and, after some difficulties, treated Curaçoa similarly.
Despite his really brilliant achievements, Jacques Cassard was destined to spend his declining years in comparative poverty, and die in confinement. Jealousy on the part of the aristocrats, false accusations of misappropriation of prize goods, impudence amounting to mutiny in dealing with an admiral, and finally loss of temper and insolence to the all-powerful Cardinal Fleury—this was the end of all: he was imprisoned in the fortress of Ham, and there he died, in 1740, having survived Du Guay Trouin by four years.