CHAPTER ELEVEN.
ATTACKED BY THE FRENCH FLEET.
Our friends on board the Indiaman were thrown into high spirits onhearing of the prospect of being released. They advised us, however, toget on shore again as fast as we could, and hide ourselves, lest thesoldiers, hoping to be ultimately successful, should ill-treat us forhaving run away from them. We told them that our intention had been torelease all the English prisoners, and to overpower the Frenchmen.
"Blood will be shed if you do, to no purpose," observed the judge;"should the frigate be successful and come back here, as I have no doubtshe will, we shall be released; if the _Mignonne_ escapes and returns,her crew would quickly again overpower us and obtain what they wish, agood excuse for ill-treating us, of which they will not fail to availthemselves."
The judge's opinion carried the day, and we hurried on shore, andreturned by a circuitous route to the spot whence we had witnessed theengagement between the two vessels. William eagerly swept the darkwell-defined line of the horizon with his telescope.
"Hurrah! there is one--yes, there are two sails! Here, O'Carroll, seewhat you can make out of them," he exclaimed, handing him the glass.
It was some time before O'Carroll would pronounce an opinion. He thendeclared positively that there were two ships, and that they wereapproaching the land. There was a strong breeze. We sat down on theground, watching anxiously. They came nearer and nearer. We had nolonger any doubt that the _Phoebe_ had captured the privateer. Themidshipmen declared positively that the largest was their ship.
"We ought to know her, though, to be sure, it is more of the inside thanthe out we see of her," observed Toby.
All our doubts were set at rest at length, when the British ensign wasseen flying proudly over that of the French.
Three cheers burst almost involuntarily from our throats, which couldhardly have failed to have shown our whereabouts to the French soldiers;but if they guessed the cause, they thought it prudent to take no noticeof our proceedings, but, as we supposed, hurried back to their abodes,to conceal any property of value which they might possess. William andTrundle meantime were unable to resist the temptation of going on boardthe Indiaman, to give our new friends the joyful news. They said thatthey should be back in plenty of time to see the ships enter theharbour. O'Carroll and I preferred waiting to watch proceedings. Atlength the frigate and privateer got close in with the land, when bothhove-to. What was now to happen? Boats were seen passing between thetwo vessels, and then the _Mignonne's_ head came slowly round towardsthe mouth of the harbour, and on she glided towards it. The flagsremained as they were, and men, we saw, were stationed at the guns.Some opposition was probably expected. There was a fort at the entranceof the harbour--not a very formidable-looking affair--with five ship'sguns mounted in it. Round them we saw the greater part of the mongrelgarrison clustering as if they were going to show fight, but if so, theythought better of it, for, after a short consultation, they sneakedaway, leaving the fort to take care of itself. The _Mignonne_ camegliding on, bearing evident traces in her masts and rigging of thepunishment she had received, and of the obstinacy--or what would havebeen valour in a better cause--with which she had been defended. We metthe midshipmen running down towards the landing-place, and jumping intothe first boat we could find, we got alongside her directly she droppedanchor.
"Why, Braithwaite, Trundle! where have you come from?" exclaimed severalvoices, as the midshipmen clambered up the side.
They soon gave an account of themselves, and I need scarcely say that wewere heartily welcomed by the officers of the _Phoebe_ in charge of theprize, who were in high spirits at having captured a vessel which hadproved one of the greatest pests to British commerce in the Easternseas. The Frenchmen had not yielded till more than a third of theirnumber lay dead or desperately wounded on her decks. Among them wereseveral of the seamen of the unfortunate _Kangaroo_, including herwretched captain and mate. The survivors of the Englishmen declaredthat they had been forced on board and compelled to fight. We declinedto express any opinion on the subject. All we could say was that we hadmissed them from the encampment, and had every reason to suppose thatthey had fallen into the hands of the French. They thus escapedhanging, which I certainly believe they deserved. The chief offendershad already paid the penalty of their crimes. I need scarcely describethe delight of the passengers of the Indiaman on finding that they couldnow proceed on their voyage, or of the prisoners who were released fromthe different hulks. They were the officers and seamen taken indifferent prizes by the _Mignonne_. The excuse the Frenchmen gave fortreating them thus barbarously was that the French taken by Englishcruisers were shut up on board hulks in English harbours without goodfood or any exercise. They pretended not to understand that, in oneinstance, the prisoners would inevitably have escaped had they been leftat liberty, while in the present they had had no opportunity ofescaping. The mouth of the harbour having been surveyed, the frigatecame in the next day, that her crew might assist in repairing the_Mignonne_ and getting the Indiaman and the other vessels ready for sea.I was curious to ascertain what O'Carroll would say to finding La Rocheat length a prisoner. I asked him if he would go on board the frigatewith me to see the French captain.
"I would not do so to triumph over a fallen foe, but perhaps if I was toset eyes on him again for a few times I might get over the intensedislike--even more, the dread, I feel for him," he answered. "I havereason to feel dislike. He ruined my prospects, he killed mycompanions, and he treated me with every indignity and cruelty he coulddevise while I remained on board his ship. He made me serve him as amenial--wait behind his chair, clean his shoes, arrange his cabin, andif I displeased him he ordered his men to flog me. Ay! I never toldyou that before, I was ashamed to do so. He well-nigh broke my spirit.Had I remained much longer with him he would have done so, or I shouldhave gone mad and jumped overboard. Still I will see him."
We went on board the frigate and enquired for the privateer captain.Having already, it appeared, broken his parole in England when he hadonce before been taken, Captain Young had refused to receive it, and hewas therefore confined below in a cabin, with a sentry placed over him.It was naturally supposed that he would otherwise take some opportunityof getting on shore, and, knowing the locality, might remain concealedtill he could escape from the island altogether. Accompanied by themaster-at-arms, we entered the cabin. La Roche was seated in aneasy-chair reading a book when the door opened. He did not rise, but,looking up, nodded to O'Carroll, whom he seemed instantly to recognise.
"Ah, mon ami! it's the fortune of war, you see. Once I had you in mypower, now your countrymen have me," he said, in a cool, unconcernedmanner. "It is pleasant, is it not?--pleasanter for you than for me.However, my turn may come next, and then--"
"I hope not. I hope while I live that I may never again be in yourhands!" exclaimed O'Carroll, interrupting him. "You remember how youtreated me?"
"Oh, well! and it is in your power to inform the captain of thisfrigate, and probably he will treat me in the same way."
"No, indeed! Englishmen never treat their prisoners as you treated me,"answered O'Carroll; "Monsieur knows that well enough. I did not comehere to insult you; I did not come to triumph over you. You hadinspired me with a horror I could not get over. I came here to becured. I am so, thoroughly. You have done much injury to the commerceof my country, and the only ill I wish you is that you may be kept aclose prisoner till the termination of the war, and never again be ableto do an injury to Englishmen."
La Roche shrugged his shoulders at this address, and smiled. "Well, youIrishmen are indeed curious. I should have thought that you would haveliked to see me hung up to the yard-arm," he observed, in the same cooltone as before. "However, your moderate wishes may be gratified, or Imay make my escape; and if I do, and ever capture you again, I promiseyou that I will remember your moderation, and treat you to the best ofeverything I have on board."
We soon after this
brought our interview with the famous privateercaptain to an end, and O'Carroll assured me that all his unpleasantmonomaniacal feelings with regard to him had been, as he hoped,completely dissipated. As we were about to leave the ship Captain Youngpolitely invited us to remain and dine with him. He showed muchinterest in O'Carroll's account of his misfortunes, and finally arrangedthat he should take the command of one of the vessels in the harbour toconvey the emigrants to New South Wales. I, of course, received nodirect communication from Captain Hassall, but from the informationCaptain Young gave me I had great hopes that the _Barbara_, instead ofsailing immediately for the east, had gone to the coast of Madagascar,in which direction the _Phoebe_ herself was bound. Captain Youngoffered me a passage should I wish to rejoin my ship. The Indiamanbeing refitted for sea by the united exertions of all the crews, we allsailed out of the harbour in succession, the _Phoebe_ leading. The_Mignonne_, with her prize crew and some of the prisoners on board, wasbound for the Mauritius, to give information of the capture of theisland; the emigrant ship was bound for New South Wales, the Indiamanfor Calcutta, we for Madagascar. I went on board the _Argo_, the shipcommanded by O'Carroll. I found him well satisfied with his change ofcircumstances. There was only one thing about which he was concerned.La Roche, though still a captive, was alive, and might soon regain hisliberty.
"If he does I'm sure that he will cause me trouble again," he observed."I don't know what causes it, but I even now cannot think of thevenomous little man without a feeling of dread--a creeping sensation,Braithwaite. Do you know what it is?"
"Not exactly," said I. "But the remedy I suggest is not to think ofhim. Whenever his image appears banish him with a kick. Or, let me beserious, O'Carroll. Is it not our own fault if we go on living in fearof death all our life long! Put your trust in God, and fear not whatman can do to you."
"You are right! you are right!" exclaimed O'Carroll, warmly; "it is justthe want of doing that has made me--no coward, as you know--constantlytremble at unseen dangers. Henceforward I will try to follow youradvice."
"Do," said I; "and depend on it your dread of the little Frenchman willcompletely and for ever vanish."
I parted from O'Carroll--as honest a man as ever broke a biscuit--withthe sincere hope that we should meet again. The crews of our respectiveships gave three hearty cheers as we separated on our respectivecourses. We accompanied the _Mignonne_ for some distance towards theMauritius, when several sails were reported in sight from the mast-head.
"I hope that they are enemies!" I heard Trundle thoughtlessly exclaim."Glorious fun to have a fight. We, too, should soon give a good accountof them."
Both ships were speedily got ready for action, for in those days it wasdifficult to sail far without meeting an enemy. It might be one to becaptured--snapped up in an instant; it might be one of equal or not ofvastly superior size, to be fought bravely, and taken in the end; or,mayhap, one so much larger that it would be necessary to make all sailand run away, a proceeding not very often practised in those days byBritish naval commanders. It was rather doubtful, however, from thenumber and size of the ships in sight, whether we should not find itnecessary to have recourse to the last expedient. We continued,however, steering as before, and rapidly nearing the strangers, when, tothe relief of the less pugnaciously disposed, first one and then theothers made their number, and we discovered, as we got sufficiently nearto exchange telegraph signals, that they were three frigates--the_Galatea, Racehorse_, and _Astrea_--on their way to the coast ofMadagascar to look after a French squadron, which, having been drivenaway from the Mauritius, had gone in that direction. We should now be afair match for the Frenchmen whenever we should meet them. Having putmost of our prisoners well guarded on board the _Mignonne_, we partedfrom her, she to continue her passage to the Mauritius, we to accompanyour consorts in search of the enemy.
A bright look-out was now kept for the enemy, and from sunrise to itssetting the mastheads were adorned with eager watchers, each wishing tobe the first one to espy the Frenchmen. However, the lofty mountainridges of Madagascar hove in sight before any of them were seen. I hadbecome very anxious about the fate of the _Barbara_. Had she prosecutedher voyage to this coast, and fallen in with the enemy? If so, she musthave been captured, and too probably sent away to one of thesettlements. In spite of my advice to O'Carroll, this idea tookcomplete possession of my mind, and I felt convinced that the voyagefrom which so much had been expected would come to nought.
Night closed in on us, and the usual answer was given to the watch belowby those who had come off deck, "Not a sign of a sail in sight." Thenext morning the sun arose out of his ocean bed brighter even than ishis wont in that bright clime, first lighting up the topmost heights ofthe mountains with a roseate tinge, while a purple hue still lay spreadover the calm ocean. As usual, officers and men were going aloft, withtelescopes over their shoulders, to take a look round for the enemy,when, as the sun rose higher, a shout of satisfaction burst from many athroat, for there lay, well in with the land, their white canvas shiningbrightly in his beams, the French frigates of which we were in search.The wind came off the land, and we were far to leeward. They thus hadgreatly the advantage of us. We did our utmost, however, to beat up tothem. Every sail that could draw was set, and we continued to tack andtack hour after hour, hoping to reach them, and that some fortunateshift of wind would give us the weather gauge and enable us to chooseour own time for action. As I went along the decks I was struck by thebold and determined appearance of the men as they stood at theirquarters, stripped to the waist, and mostly with handkerchiefs of manycolours tied round their heads. The costume was appropriate, for theheat was excessive, besides which, sailors know well that the sufferingis much less, should they be wounded, if no pieces of cloth are carriedinto the body with the shot. They were chatting and laughing, and manyof them were cutting all sorts of jokes. I had volunteered to serve asthe captain's aide-de-camp, to carry messages for him to any part of theship, or to assist the surgeons in the cockpit.
"You would do good service on deck, and I respect your feeling inoffering to be there," he answered; "but you are a non-combatant. Youhave nothing to gain by exposing your life. You will therefore obligeme by performing the far more painful task of assisting the surgeons."
I bowed with a feeling of disappointment at my heart, which I probablyexhibited.
He smiled and said, "It is possible, after all, that there may be verylittle employment for your talents."
There was a shout on the upper deck, taken speedily up by the men on themain deck. The enemy were seen bearing down on us. On they came,nearer and nearer. Where we lay it had fallen a perfect calm, and oursails kept flapping against the masts. Still the breeze favoured them.I felt very queer, I confess. I had no intention of going below till Iwas wanted, and it did not occur to me that I might be turned into apatient myself. The delight of the sailors at seeing the French thusboldly approaching was excessive, nor did they fail to praise them fortheir courage.
"Bravo! Johnny Crapaud. That's more than I thought of you. Comealong! Don't leave us again. We won't hurt ye more than we can help.You are brave fellows, that you are; we always thought so. Now you showit. Bear a hand, though."
I heard such and similar expressions from most of the men as I passedalong the decks. Suddenly there was a gloom from one end of the ship tothe other. The breeze which had been bringing the Frenchmen alongsuddenly dropped. It had served, them, however, well enough to bringthem pretty close up to us.
"Now," I thought to myself, "I shall see what a regular stand-upsea-fight is like."
Still I could not help feeling all the time that my vocation was one ofpeace, and that I had no business to be where I was. That is not apleasant sensation. The great thing for a man to feel in time of dangeris that he is at his post and doing his duty. As I was in for it, Idetermined to do my best to be of me, and to trust to the God of mercyfor protection. The enemy soon showed us that they had no
intention ofbeing idle. A shot came whistling over our heads, and fell aconsiderable distance on the other side of us. This showed them that wewere within gunshot range of each other, and immediately they openedfire in earnest. Some of the shot flew over our heads, others on oneside or the other, but hitherto none had struck us. I had a hope that,after all, there would be no bloodshed. We meantime had commencedfiring, but either the Frenchmen's powder was better or their gunslonger, for our shot mostly appeared to fall short, greatly to thevexation of our crew. The enemy also having had the last of the wind,while we were becalmed, were able to take up a better position than wehad, and continued warmly engaging us, we often being scarcely able toreturn a shot.
As I had nothing to do below, I remained on deck. More than once,however, I could not help ducking my head as a shot whistled above it.Possibly it might have been too high to have struck me. However, I soongot accustomed to that, and as no one had as yet been hurt, I began tofancy that after all a sea-fight was not so terrible an affair as I hadsupposed, and that possibly we and the Frenchmen might part withoutdoing much harm to each other. I had been standing near a fine youngfellow, Jem Martin by name, captain of a gun, who had for some time pastbeen cutting, with more than ordinary humour, numbers of jokes on theenemy. I was struck by his bold attitude and thoroughly sailor-likelook. His bright blue eye beamed with life and animation. I had turnedmy head away from him when a shot whistled by, and I heard a piercingshriek, such as a strong man utters but once, wrung from his bosom bymortal agony. I looked round, and on the deck lay the shattered body ofa human being. There were a few spasmodic movements of the limbs, andall that remained of Jem Martin was the mangled corpse at my feet. Ishuddered, for I could not help feeling that such as he was I might nowhave been.
The event seemed to affect his shipmates but little; another seaman tookhis place, and the gun was loaded, run out, and fired. The fact wasthat they had no time just then for thought or the indulgence offeeling. The enemy's shot now came thicker and thicker; many wentthrough the sails, others wounded the masts and spars and cut away therigging, and several more of our men were hit. As soon as they werecarried below, I followed, to assist the surgeon in attending to theirwounds. I had long before this forgotten all about the danger to whichI was myself exposed, but I could not forget that I had a young brotheron board who might any moment be numbered among the killed or wounded.It seemed to me, indeed, that we were getting so much the worst of it,that I began to dread that the flag of England might have to strike tothat of France. The idea was not a pleasant one; it was not, however,shared in by others on board.
After we had received a pretty severe battering for the space of twohours, the breeze got up, and the Frenchmen hauled off to repairdamages. On seeing this the rage of our men became very great, and theycried out to the officers that they might be allowed to go after them.As the enemy were to windward this was not easily to be done, and we hadto wait patiently in the hope that the enemy would choose to renew thefight, while in the meantime our top-men were knotting and splicingrigging, and the carpenter's crew were strengthening the wounded yardsand stopping shot-holes. At length the breeze reached us, and as itfilled our sails the crew cheered in anticipation of being able soon toget to closer quarters with the enemy. After making numerous tacks, twoof our squadron got up to two of the French ships, which seemed in noway disposed to refuse battle. While our gallant commodore closed withthe _Renomme_ we engaged the _Clorinde_. The fight soon gave work forour surgeons, and I went below, as I had undertaken to do, to help them.As I left the deck I cast a glance at my young brother, who had chargeof a division of the guns, and was standing on the deck cheering on themen, full of life and animation. The shots were thickly flying abouthis head; any moment one might lay him low. I could but offer up aprayer for his safety.
The surgeon and his mates were already at work. I hung up my coat andtucked up my sleeves, prepared to assist them. I will not describe thescene of suffering I witnessed. Most of the poor fellows bore theiragony with wonderful fortitude. Two officers had been brought belowwounded. I kept looking up anxiously every time I saw the feet of mendescending the ladder, dreading that they might be bringing down myyoung brother. Still I kept praying for his safety while I followed thesurgeons' directions. A young seaman had been brought down fearfullywounded. I had remarked him on several occasions among the most activeand zealous of the crew. The surgeon examined him. He did not groan--indeed, he did not appear to suffer much pain.
The surgeon shook his head. "I can do nothing for him," he whispered tome. "You may be able, perhaps, to speak a word of comfort, and there isnothing just now for you to do."
I was rather surprised at the surgeon saying even thus much. Perhapsthe light of the lantern, which at that moment fell on my countenance,revealed my thoughts, for he added, "I was asked to look after the lad,whose mother is a widow, and, God help me! I have done little for him,and now it is too late."
The young seaman was placed on a hammock opened out on the deck of thecockpit. I knelt down by his side, and, after repeating such passagesout of the Word of life as occurred to me, I engaged in prayer. Hefollowed me in a low voice. Suddenly he was silent. I looked towardhim; the immortal spirit had taken its flight from his frail body.Still the battle raged; more of our poor fellows were brought down, andI once more was called on to assist the surgeons in their painful task.
James Braithwaite, the Supercargo: The Story of his Adventures Ashore and Afloat Page 11