CHAPTER XI.
THE GALLEY "L'HEUREUSE."
The archers, or constables, in charge of the slaves took themthrough Ypres and Furnes; and as the distance is about twelveleagues, it was not till the third day that Tristram saw the spiresand fortifications of Dunkirk rising against the greyish sea.But in that time he learnt much, being tied to a brisk rotundBurgundian, the cheerfullest of the gang, who had made two campaignswith the English Foot Guards in Turenne's time, and had picked up asmattering of their language. He knew, at any rate, enough Englishto teach Tristram some rudiments of French on the road, and gave himmuch information that went far to alter his notions of the world.
Tristram was deeply shocked at the sight of one or two of the menwhom he had left in the hands of M. de Lambertie. He now ceased towonder at the agony of apprehension they had exhibited, and, whilecompassionating their horrible case, did not forget to thank God forhaving interposed to save him from a similar fate.
"Ah, yes," said his comrade tranquilly; "they are deserters.Formerly they used to have their noses cut off, as well as theirears; but this was found to breed infection, and now they are merelyslit--besides, of course, being branded with the fleur-de-lis oneither cheek. But what matters their appearance to them, seeing thattheir sentence is for life?"
Tristram shuddered. "This King of yours," said he, "must be thefirst-cousin to the devil."
"They are all alike, _mon cher_. What, for instance, has your Kingdone for you? But speak not so loud." He took a few steps insilence, and added: "After all, one must distinguish between crimes.If the poor _faussoniers_ are treated to the galleys it is absurd tosuppose that nothing worse must befall a deserter."
"What is a _faussonier?_"
"There is one yonder, comrade--that young peasant who walks like acalf and seems to know not whither he is bound. He is condemnedbecause he bought some salt for his young wife, who was ill."
"Is that a crime?"
"It depends where you buy it. You must know, my friend, that in mostof the provinces of France salt is very dear. A pint will cost youfour francs and a little over. Therefore the poor cannot afford itfor their soup, and some, for lack of it, go fasting most of theweek. So they starve and languish and fall sick, as did this youngman's wife. But in my native Burgundy--blessed be its name!--andalso in the country of Doubs, salt is cheap enough. Now this youngman dwelt close on the frontier of Burgundy--I have seen him timesand again at the vintage work--and because he was very fond of hiswife, and could not bear to see her die, he ventured across thefrontier to buy salt cheaply; and, being taken, he has been condemnedto the galleys for six years. In the meantime his wife will perish.But the King's taxes must be paid. Else how shall we exterminate hisenemies?"
"But," Tristram exclaimed, trembling with indignation, "how can yoube cheerful in this fearful land?"
"What! I? Well, I am cheerful, to begin with, because my nose isnot slit."
"That appears to me a very slight reason."
"You would not say so if you had run so near it as I."
"Are you a deserter, then?"
"Thanks for your good opinion, comrade! No. I was never guilty ofdisloyalty to King Lewis, But I killed my wife's mother, _pardieu!_--which the judge seemed to think almost as vile, till I sent a friendto grease his palm with the last sou of my patrimony. And, by goodfortune, it became greasy enough to let me slip out of the worst."
"A murderer!" gasped our innocent youth, drawing away from his side.
"She was talkative," the little man explained, with composure."But let us converse upon other subjects. Only I must warn you thaton board the galleys, whither we are bound, a man can recoil from hisneighbour but just so far as his chain allows."
In such converse they beguiled the way, talking low whenever anarcher drew near, and whispering together at night until they droppedasleep in the filthy stables where they were packed, their chainssecured at either end to the wall, and so tightly that they hadbarely liberty to lie down, and none to turn, or even stir, in theirsleep. By degrees Tristram grew even to like this volatile anddisreputable comrade, whose conscience was none of his own growing,but of the laws he lived under.
On reaching Dunkirk, however, they were parted, Tristram beingassigned to the galley _L'Heureuse_, while the Burgundian was toldoff to _La Merveille_, then commanded by the Chevalier deSainte-Croix.
"You are in luck, comrade," he said, as they parted under theRice-bank fort, beside the pier; "_L'Heureuse_ is the Commodore'sgalley, and the only one in which a poor devil of a slave has anawning above his head to keep the rain and sun off. Ah, what it isto have six feet of stature and a pair of shoulders!"
It turned out as he said. _L'Heureuse_, commanded by the Commodorede la Pailletine, was the head of a squadron of six galleys thenquartered in the port of Dunkirk. But it is necessary here to say aword or two about these strange vessels which the Count de Tourvillehad recently brought round to the north coast of France fromMarseilles and the ports of the Mediterranean. They were narrowcraft, ranging from 120 feet to 150 feet long, and from eighteen feetto twenty feet by the beam. In the hold they were not more thanseven feet deep; so that, with a full crew on board, the deck stoodless than a couple of feet from the water's edge; for the number ofmen they held was prodigious. The Commodore's galley alone wasmanned by 336 slaves, and 150 men of all sorts, either officers,soldiers, seamen, or servants. This, however, was the biggestcomplement of all; for while _L'Heureuse_ had fifty-six oars, withsix slaves to tug at each, none of the rest carried more than fifty,with five rowers apiece. The prow of each galley was of iron,pointed like a beak, and so sharp that when rowed at full speedagainst a hostile ship it was like to sink her, or at least to drivedeep and hold on while the boarders poured up and over her side.In addition to this formidable weapon, each carried four guns rightforward, besides a heavier piece which was worked on a circularplatform amidships, and when not required for service was stowed bythe mainmast for ballast. Each galley had two masts, though theywere next to useless, for it is easy to see that vessels so laden andopen at the decks were fit only for the lightest breezes, and in foulweather must run to harbour for their lives.
Before embarking in the boat which was to take him on board, Tristramwas led up to the Rice-bank, where a barber shaved his head, andwhere he was forced to exchange the suit he wore for a coarse canvasfrock, a canvas shirt and a little jerkin of red serge, sleeveless,and slit on either side up to the arm-holes. The design of this (asa warder explained to him) was to allow his muscles free play, whichTristram pronounced very considerate, repeating this remark when hereceived a small scarlet cap to keep the cold from his shaven head.He was next offered a porringer of soup, consisting chiefly of oil,with a dozen lentils floating on the top; and having consumed it, wasrowed off to be introduced to his new companions. On considering hiscircumstances, he found but one which could be called consoling.It was that he had been allowed to retain and stow in his waist-belthis little packet of pepper-cress seed--a favour for which he thankedhis persecutors with tears in his eyes.
It happened that his galley was bound that afternoon on a cruise of afew miles along the coast and indeed was lifting anchor as he washauled up the side. He had, therefore, but a hasty view of hissurroundings before he was chained to his bench, facing the greatoar. He saw only a long chamber, crossed by row upon row of white,desperate faces. Down the middle, by the ends of the benches, ran agangway, along which three overseers paced leisurably, each with atall, flexible wand in his hand. The stench in the place wasoverpowering, and Tristram was on the point of swooning when thefellow who was chained beside him growled a word of advice:
"Look sharp and slip your jacket off."
Tristram obeyed without understanding. He saw that all the figuresaround him were naked to the waist, and therefore pulled off shirt aswell as jacket, but not quickly enough to prevent a stroke, whichhissed down on his shoulders and made him set his teeth with anguish.The man beside him uttere
d a sharp cry. He too had felt the cut, orpart of it; for the overseer's wand did not discriminate.
The handle of the great oar swung towards Tristram. Noting how hisneighbour's hands were laid upon it, and copying his example, hebegan to tug with the rest, rising from his bench and falling backupon it at each stroke; and at the end of each stroke, whereordinarily a boat's oars rattle briskly against the tholepins, thetime was marked with a loud clash of chains, and often enough with asharp cry from some poor wretch who had been caught lagging andthwacked across the bare shoulders. The fatigue after a time grewintolerably heavy. While the sun smote down through the awning, theheat of their exercise seemed never to pass up through it, but beatback upon their faces in sickening waves, stopping their breath.Of the world outside their den they could see nothing but a smallpatch of grey sea beyond the hole in which their oar worked.The sweat poured off their chests and backs in streams, until theirwaist-bands clung to the flesh like soaked sponges. Some began tomoan and sob; others to entreat Heaven for a respite, as if God weredirecting their torture and taking delight in it; others again brokeout into frightful imprecations, cursing their Maker and the hour oftheir birth. And while the oars swung and the chains clashed and thecries redoubled their volume, the three keepers moved imperturbablyup and down the gangway, flicking their whips to left and right, anddrawing blood with every second stroke. At length, when Tristram'shead was reeling and the backs of the bench-full just in front weremelting before his eyes and swimming in a blood-red haze, the orderwas yelled to easy. The men dropped their faces forward on the oars,and rested them there while they panted and coughed, catching thebreath again into their heaving bodies. Then one or two began tolaugh and utter some poor drolleries; presently the sound spread, andwithin three minutes the whole pit was full of chatter and uproar.They seemed to forget their miseries even as they wiped the blood offtheir shoulders.
And now, while the cold wind began to creep underneath the awning anddry the sweat around their loins, Tristram had time to take stock ofhis companions, and even to ask a question or two of the slave thathad spoken to him. They were all stalwart fellows, the Commodorehaving the pick of all the _forcats_ drafted to his port, andexercising it with some care, because he prided himself on the speedof his vessel. Not a few wore on their cheeks the ghastly redfleur-de-lis, which he now knew for the mark of deserters, murderers,and the more flagrant criminals; others, he learned, were condemnedfor the pettiest thefts, and a large proportion for having no bettertaste than to belong to the Protestant religion. The man beside him,for instance, was a poor Huguenot from Perigord, who had been caughton the frontier in the act of escaping to a country in which he had aslightly better chance of calling his soul his own. All these werewhite men; but at the end of each bench, next the gangway, sat a Turkor Moor. These were bought slaves, procured expressly to manage thestroke of the oar, and for their skill treated somewhat better thanthe Christians. They earned the same pay as the soldiers, and werenot chained, like other slaves, to the benches, but carried only aring on the foot as a badge of servitude. Indeed, when not engagedin service, they enjoyed a certain amount of liberty, being allowedto go on shore and trade, purchasing meat for such of the white menas had any money or were willing to earn some by clearing theirneighbours' clothes of vermin--a common trade on board these galleys,where the confined space, the dirt and profuse sweating at the oarbred all manner of loathsome pests.
It was by degrees that Tristram learnt all this, as during the weekthat followed he found time to chat with the Huguenot and improve hisacquaintance with the French tongue. By night he was provided with aboard, a foot and a half wide, on which to stretch himself; and as helay pretty far aft, was warned against scratching himself, lest therattle of his chains should disturb the officers, whose quarters weredivided from the slaves' by the thinnest of wooden partitions.By day, indeed, these officers, as well as the chaplain, had the useof the Commodore's room, a fairly spacious chamber in the stern,shaped on the outside like a big cradle, with bulging windows and acouple of lanterns on the taffrail above, that were lit when eveningclosed in. But at night, or in foul weather, M. de la Pailletinereserved this apartment for his own use.
At six o'clock every morning the slaves were roused up and begantheir day with prayers, which the chaplain conducted, takingparticular care that the Huguenots were hearty in their responses.The Turks--or _Vogue-avants_ as they were called--were never molestedon the score of religion; but while Mass was being said were put outof the galley into a long-boat, where they diverted themselves bysmoking and talking till the Christians were through with theirexercises.
When these were done the daily portion of biscuit--pretty good,though coarse--was doled out to each man, and at ten o'clock aporringer of soup. Also, on days when the galleys were taken for acruise, each slave received something less than a pint of wine,morning and evening, to keep up his strength. But it must not beimagined from this that their work was light during the rest of theweek. When the weather kept them in harbour, all such as knew anyuseful trade were taken off the galley to the town of Dunkirk, andthere set to work under guard, some at the making of new clothes orthe repairing of old ones; others at carpentry, plumbing, orshoemaking; others, again, at repairing the fortifications, and soon--thus allowing room for the residue to scrub out the galley, washdown the benches and decks, and set all ship-shape and in order: ofwhich residue Tristram was one, being versed in no trade but that ofgardening, for which there seemed to be no demand. But at length,having an eye for colour, he was given a paint-pot and brushes,slung over the galley's stern, and set to work to touch up thewindow-frames of the Commodore's cabin. The position wasuncomfortable at first, since the board on which he was slung was buteight inches wide, and the galley's stern rose to a considerableheight above the water. Looking down, he reflected that, with theheavy chain on his leg, he was safe to drown if he slipped; and inspite of his miserable situation, he had not the least desire to die,being full of trust in Providence and assured that, so long as helived, there would always be a chance of regaining his belovedSophia. And pretty soon he grew to delight in the work, not for itsown sake alone, but because it separated him for a time from thesight of his companions and their misery. The paint was blue, whichreminded him of the Pavilions at home, and he began to throw his soulinto the job, with the result that the Commodore expressed muchsatisfaction with it, and gave him instructions to repaint the wholeof the stern, including the magnificent board with the inscription_L'HEUREUSE_ in gilt letters, and the royal arms of France surroundedwith decorations in the flamboyant style.
Thus it happened that, one fine morning in the middle of June, he washanging out over the stern in his usual posture, and, having finishedthe letters _L'HEU_, took a look around on the brightness of the daybefore dipping his brush and starting again. The galley with herfive consorts lay in the Royal Basin under the citadel, and a mile infrom the open sea, towards which the long line of the pier extended,its tall forts dominating the sand-dunes that stretched away to rightand left. The sands shone; the sea was a silvery blue, edged with adazzle where its breakers touched the shore; a clear northerly breezecame sweeping inland and hummed in the galley's rigging as it flewby. From the streets of Dunkirk sounded the cheerful bustle of themorning's business; and as Tristram glanced up at the glisteningspire of the Jesuits' church, its clock struck out eleven o'clock asmerrily as if it played a tune.
It was just at this moment, as he turned to dip his brush, that hecaught sight of a small boat approaching across the basin. It wasrowed by a waterman, and in the stern-sheets there sat a figure thesight of which caused Tristram's heart to stop beating for a moment,and then to resume at a gallop. He caught hold of the rope by whichhe hung, and looked again.
Beyond a doubt it was his father, Roderick Salt!
Now just as Tristram underwent this shock of surprise, from a pointabout three yards above his head another person was watching the boatwith some curiosity. This was the Commodor
e, M. de la Pailletine,who stood on the poop with his feet planted wide and his handsclasped beneath his coat-tails. He was wondering who this visitorcould be.
Captain Salt was elegantly dressed, and the cloak thrown back fromhis broad chest revealed a green suit, thick with gold lace, and awhite waistcoat also embroidered with gold. The bullion twinkled inthe sunshine as the boat drew near and, crossing under Tristram'sdangling heels, dropped alongside the galley. And as it passed, theson, looking straight beneath him, determined in his heart that, badas his present plight might be, he would endure it rather than trusthimself in his father's hands again. The Captain stepped briskly upthe ladder and gained the galley's deck. He had given the young mana glance and no more. It was not wonderful that he had failed torecognise in the young _forcat_ with the shaven head and rough,stubbly beard the son whom he had abandoned more than a month before.Besides, he was busy composing in his mind an introductory speech tobe let off on M. de la Pailletine, in whose manner of receiving himhe anticipated some little frigidity.
However, he stepped on deck and advanced towards the officer on thepoop with a pleasant smile, doffing his laced hat with one hand andholding forward a letter in the other. M. de la Pailletine took hishands from beneath his coat-tails and also advanced, returning thesalute very politely.
"The Commodore de la Pailletine, I believe?"
"The same, monsieur."
The two gentlemen regarded each other narrowly for an instant; then,still smiling, Captain Salt presented his letter, and stood tappingthe deck with the toe of his square-pointed shoe and looking amiablyabout him while the Commodore glanced at the seal, broke it, andbegan to read.
At the first sentence the muscles of M. de la Pailletine's foreheadcontracted slightly.
"Just as I expected," said the Englishman to himself, as he stole aglance. But he continued to wear his air of good-fellowship, and histeeth, which were white as milk and quite even, showed all the time.
Meanwhile the Commodore's brow did not clear. He was a wiry, tallman, of beautiful manners and a singularly urbane demeanour, but hecould not hide the annoyance which this letter caused him.He finished it, turned abruptly to the beginning, and read it throughagain; then looked at Captain Salt with a shade of severity on hisface. "Sir," he said, in a carefully regulated voice, "you may counton my obeying his Majesty's commands to the letter." He laid somestress on the two words "commands" and "letter."
"I thank you, monsieur," answered the Englishman, without allowinghimself to show that he perceived this.
"I am ordered"--again the word "ordered" was slightly emphasised--"Iam ordered to make you welcome on board my galley. Therefore I mustask you to consider yourself at home here for so long as it mayplease you to stay."
He bowed again, but very stiffly, nor did he offer to shake hands.Captain Salt regarded him with his head tilted a little to one side,and his lips pursed up as if he were whistling silently. As a matterof fact he was whispering to himself, "You shall rue this, mygentleman!" But aloud he asked the somewhat puzzling question:
"Is that all, monsieur?"
"Why, yes," answered M. de la Pailletine, "except that you need haveno doubt I shall treat you with the respect which is your due, orrather--"
"Pray proceed."
"--Or rather, with the respect which his Majesty thinks is your due."
"And which you do not."
"Excuse me, sir; I do not venture to set up my opinion against thatof King Lewis."
"Yes, yes, of course; but, monsieur, I was trying to get at your ownfeelings. You do not think that a man who enlists against his owncountry, even on the side of his rightful King, can be entitled toany respect?"
"Excuse me--" began the Commodore; but Captain Salt interrupted witha gentle wave of the hand.
"Tut, tut, my dear sir! Pray do not imagine that I resent thisexpression of your feelings. On the contrary, I am grateful to youfor treating me so frankly. I have consolations. Your sovereign"--he pointed to the letter which M. de la Pailletine was folding up andplacing in his breast-pocket--"has a more intelligent sense of mymerits and my honour."
"Doubtless, monsieur," the Commodore answered; "but permit me tosuggest that the discussion of these matters is out of place on deck.Suffer me, therefore, to conduct you to my cabin, which is at yourdisposal while you choose to honour us."
The Englishman bowed and followed his host below. Nor couldTristram, who had heard every sentence of their conversation, feelsufficiently thankful that he had finished painting the cabin windowsthree days before, and was not obliged to expose his face to thechance of recognition. And yet it is doubtful if he would have beenrecognised, so direly had tribulation altered him. He finished hiswork for the morning with less artistry than usual, and was drawnupon deck shortly before the dinner-hour, by which time the galley'scomplement was brought on board for a short cruise. As Tristram roseand fell to his oar, that afternoon, he heard his father's voice justover his head, and then the Commodore's answering it. Their toneswere not cordial; but their feet were pacing side by side, and it wasobvious that the Englishman had already in some measure abated theCommodore's dislike.
Indeed, in the course of the next week Tristram learnt enough to besure that his father was making steady progress in the affections ofthe officers of the galley. At first there is little doubt that theCaptain was moved to capture their good will from a merely vaguedesire, common to all men of his character, to stand well in theopinion of everybody he met. He had arrived at Saint Germains, andhad ridden thence to meet King James, who was returning from Calaisin a dog's temper over the failure of the mutinous ships to meet himat that port. Captain Salt presented the Earl's letter, and bydepicting the mutiny in colours which his imagination supplied,laying stress on the enthusiasm of the crews, and declaring that thesuccess of their plot was delayed rather than destroyed by thecunning of the usurper, he contrived to inspire hope again in thebreast of the cantankerous and exiled monarch, who kept him at hisside during the rest of the journey back to Paris, and thereintroduced him to the favour of King Lewis. The latter monarch, whohappened to be bored, asked Captain Salt what he could do for him.
Captain Salt, remembering the Earl's promise, suggested that adescent on the English coast might be made from Dunkirk, if hisMajesty were still disposed to befriend the unfortunate House ofStuart.
King Lewis yawned, remembered that he had a certain number of galleyslanguishing at Dunkirk for want of exercise, and suggested thatCaptain Salt had better go and see for himself what they were likelyto effect.
Captain Salt went. His main purpose was to live in comfortablequarters at the King's expense, while awaiting for the promisedletter from the Earl of Marlborough. On the eighth day after hisarrival, a small fishing-smack with a green pennant came racing pastthe two castles at the entrance of Dunkirk pier, slackened hermain-sheet, spun down between the forts with the wind astern,rounded, and cast anchor in the Royal Basin. Her crew then lowered alittle cockleshell of a dinghy, which she carried inboard, and atanned, red-bearded man pulled straight for the Commodore's galley.
He bore a letter addressed to Captain Roderick Salt. It was writtenin cipher, but read as follows:
Dear S.,--Portland suspected you and had you followed. I saw his eye upon you during your last interview with William. It was clever to get through, nor can I discover how you managed it: for the account given by your pursuers is plainly absurd. I've been turning over their cock-and-bull story, which finds credence here, and cannot fit it with the probabilities. Yet they seem William's men. I find that the horse on which one of them returned is not the same as that upon which he rode away; nor does their narrative account for this. But the main point is that you are safe. By the way, I hope you have kept your son at your side; for I have now received the information about which I dropped you some hints. It appears that he inherits from a great-uncle (one Silvanus Tellworthy) certain American estates, of which you an
d a Captain Runacles, of Harwich, are the legal administrators. I fancy this has been kept from you; and, if so, a descent upon Harwich may be used to furnish you with a provision for your old age. Still, there is a present danger that you may be declared a traitor, and your goods confiscate, which would spoil all. This (since naught has been proved against you, and the aim of your journey not known) you may avert by keeping your eyes open at Dunquerque, and writing a report of it to Wm. Such a report, aptly drawn, may not only check Portland, but justify me, as knowing your intent from the start, and that it was a move for Wm's, good.--M.
On reading this Captain Salt cursed several times; and paced the deckin meditation for a whole afternoon. Then an idea struck him.
During the week that followed he made excellent progress in theaffections of the officers of _L'Heureuse_. He had a face full of_bonhomie_, an engaging knack of seeming to flatter his companionswhile he merely listened to their talk, a fund of anecdote, and(as we know) a voice for singing that conciliated all who had an earfor music. All these advantages he used. For the next few days theofficers came late to bed, and Tristram and his companions couldallay the irritation of their skins as they listed. Night afternight shouts of laughter came from the Commodore's room: and with thesavour of delicate meats there now reached them the notes of a tenorvoice that moved many of the most abandoned to tears.
The end was that the officers admitted him to their counsels, whichmay have been the reason that the galleys, that until now had takenbut the shortest cruises, began to risk more daring expeditions, andonce or twice adventured within a league of the English coast.But no occasion was found for landing and burning a town--which wasthe object continually debated at the officers' board. In fact, theweather did not favour it; and, moreover, the whole line of coast wasguarded by patrolling parties, ready to give warning to thetrain-bands stationed at convenient distances, so that the crews ranno inconsiderable risk of being surprised and cut to pieces if theylanded, not to speak of having their galleys taken behind them by theBritish cruisers. And none knew better than M. de la Pailletine thatthe slaves, if left without sufficient guard to coerce them, were aslikely as not to murder their overseers and hand their galleys overto the first enemy they met.
Nothing of any consequence, therefore, was done for six weeks; and atthe end of that time Captain Salt sought out the Commodore, andannounced that he had received a letter from a friend in Parissummoning him thither on private business. The Commodore, who hadreally grown to like the Englishman, expressed his regret.He suspected nothing.
The Blue Pavilions Page 11