The Pirate Story Megapack: 25 Classic and Modern Tales

by Robert E. Howard

  Shortly after taking our departure from Morant Point, as already recorded, the wind headed us, and the schooner “broke off” until she was heading about north-east, close-hauled. Notwithstanding this, and the fact that we had run into a very nasty choppy sea, the log showed that the Dolphin was going through the water at the rate of eleven knots. We stood on in the same direction until midnight, when, having brought the high rocky islet of Navaza far enough on our weather quarter to go to windward of it on the other tack, we hove about, standing to the southward and eastward for the remainder of the night. Daylight next morning found us with Point a Gravois broad on our weather bow and distant about twenty miles. This was most gratifying, as it showed us that we had beaten clear across the Windward Channel against a fresh head-wind in about fourteen hours—a passage almost if not quite unexampled in point of celerity.

  It was my intention to work close along the whole of the southern coast of Saint Domingo on our eastward passage; and this we did, looking in first behind the island of a-Vache, where we were lucky enough to descry a French privateer brigantine snugly anchored under the shelter of a small battery. As there is nothing like making hay whilst the sun shines, we at once headed straight for the anchorage, and, trusting to the extreme roguishness of our own appearance to put our enemies off their guard, began to shorten sail in a somewhat slovenly fashion, as though we were about to bring up. Then, passing under the stern of our quarry we luffed up into the wind, shot alongside the craft, hove our grappling-irons into her rigging, and, whilst our boarders were still busy driving her astonished crew below, cut her cable and dragged her a quarter of a mile to sea before the people in the battery woke up and fully realised what we were about. By that time, however, we were in full possession of our prize, and were able to make sail upon her; and although the shot from the battery flew about our ears pretty thickly for the next ten minutes, we actually succeeded in getting out of range without once being struck; and so completely had we surprised the French crew that not one of our men received so much as a scratch.

  The Julie, for such proved to be the name of our prize, though small, turned out to be of considerable value; for she was pretty nearly full of a rich but heterogeneous assortment of goods which I shrewdly suspected had been taken out of ships which were subsequently scuttled or burnt; we therefore put one of the mids with half a dozen hands on board her, and sent her into Port Royal, where, as we afterwards learned, she safely arrived next morning.

  This little slice of good fortune, coming as it did at the very outset of our cruise, was peculiarly gratifying to me, not so much on account of either the honour or the profit likely to accrue to me personally from the transaction, but because it put the crew into good spirits, and infused into them, especially the strangers among them, an amount of confidence in me which my extremely youthful appearance would perhaps have otherwise failed to command.

  We devoted an entire week to our projected examination of the Saint Domingo coast, making four more captures during that time; but they all proved to be of so little value that they were set on fire and destroyed. Then, having worked our way as far east as Saona, we stretched across the Mona Passage; looked into the various bays and creeks on the south coast of Porto Rico without success, and finally found ourselves, on our sixteenth day out, with the island of Virgin Gorda and the Herman reefs under our lee as we stood to the northward and eastward to weather the Virgin group.

  It was about noon when—having stretched off the land some twenty miles or so, we were about to bear up and take a look at the northern shores of those islands whose southern coastline we had just so rigorously overhauled—the lookout aloft hailed to say that he thought he heard firing somewhere to windward. I was walking the deck at the time chatting with young Marchmont, one of the two mids sent on board by the admiral, and, upon this report being made, the lad volunteered to go aloft and investigate. A couple of minutes later the active youngster was on the royal-yard, peering out eagerly ahead and to windward, with one hand shading his eyes to ward off the glare of the sun. He remained thus for perhaps three or four minutes, when I saw him assume a more eager look, and presently he turned round and hailed:

  “On deck there! there certainly is firing going on somewhere in our neighbourhood, sir, for I have just heard it most distinctly; and a moment before I spoke I thought I caught sight of something like a smoke-wreath gleaming in the sun away yonder, broad on our weather bow. Ha! there it goes again! Did you not hear it, sir?”

  “No,” I replied; “the wash of the water under our bows and alongside makes too much noise down here. But that will do; you can come down again, Mr Marchmont. If, as you believe, there is firing going on to windward of us we shall soon know more about it, for, of course, I shall not now bear up until I have satisfied myself as to the matter.”

  The men forward became at once upon the qui vive, as I could see by the animated countenances of the messmen, and the eagerness with which they exchanged remarks as they went to the galley for the dinner which the cook was then serving out; as also by the nimble manner in which the relief lookout aloft shinned up the ratlines. He was one of the keenest-sighted men we had on board; and instead of seating himself, as usual, on the topsail-yard, he continued his upward progress until he reached the royal-yard, upon which he perched himself as easily as if he had been in an arm-chair, steadying his body by bracing his back against the few inches of the slender royal-mast which rose above the yard. He had not been settled more than ten minutes before he hailed to report that he heard the firing distinctly, and had also caught sight of a light wreath of smoke about four points on the weather bow. This was so far satisfactory, inasmuch as there could now be no longer any doubt as to the firing; the next thing was to find out its nature, whether it was in broadsides or by single guns, and how often it occurred. So I hailed him to report every time he heard anything. Presently he hailed again:

  “Another gun, sir!”

  I took the time. Not quite a minute had elapsed when he again reported:

  “Another gun, sir, but not so loud this time. I think it was a lighter piece than the last.”

  It was nearly five minutes before the next report was made, so I concluded that it must be a running fight—a chase, in fact—which was going forward.

  An interval of perhaps a minute passed, when I distinctly caught the sound of a faint boom! and at the same moment the hail came down:

  “Another gun, sir—a heavier one than the last; and sail ho! three points on the weather bow.”

  “That will do,” I replied; “you need not report the firing any further, but keep a sharp lookout for another sail. What is the one in sight like?”

  “I can hardly tell at this distance, sir; the heads of her royals are only just showing above the horizon, but they don’t appear to be of any great size.”

  Some four minutes later a second sail was reported, as I had expected; the lookout now expressing an opinion that the new-comer was probably a frigate, whilst the smaller craft, the leader in the race, was either a ship-sloop or a brig. My other midshipman, a lad named Boyne, was now on deck, having relieved Marchmont at noon, and this youngster, who had taken the precaution to bring his telescope on deck with him, now started forward and, with the agility of a monkey, soon placed himself alongside the lookout. He immediately raised the telescope to his eye, but we were by this time jumping into a short but lumpy sea, which made the motion aloft very considerable; moreover, the position was not one very favourable for observation, so he was rather a long time bringing his glass to bear. At length, however, with the assistance of the lookout, he managed to get both craft, one after the other, into his field of vision, and after a good long look he reported:

  “We are raising the strangers very fast, sir; I can see the royals and half-way down the topgallant-sails of both. They are running dead before the wind, with royal studding-sails set on both sides; the leading ship is a brig, apparently British, and the one in chase seems to be a frigate.”
/>
  “Thank you, Mr Boyne,” I replied. “Just stay there a little longer, if you please; keep your eye on the strangers and report anything noteworthy which you may see.”

  “Ay, ay, sir!” was the answer, and to work the lad again went with his telescope most industriously.

  We could now hear the firing quite distinctly on deck, but of course were unable to see anything, though we expected to catch the gleam of canvas on the horizon very shortly.

  Presently young Boyne hailed again:

  “The big fellow is overhauling the little one very fast, sir!”

  “No doubt. How does the frigate bear now, Mr Boyne?”

  “About three points on our weather bow, sir.”

  “Thank you! Keep her away a point,”—to the helmsman. “Mr Pottle, take a small pull upon the weather-braces, if you please, and give her another foot or two of the main sheet.”

  “Ay, ay, sir,” answered Pottle. “Lay aft here, you sea-dogs, and check the weather-braces. Royal-yard there! hold on tight, we are going to take a pull upon the weather-braces. Are you all ready there? Now then, lads, steady, not too much; you’ve rather overdone it. Ease off an inch or two of that royal-brace; haul taut to leeward, well there, belay! Lee to’gallant-brace haul taut; topsail and fore-braces, well there, belay of all. Forecastle there! ease up that flying-jib sheet. What do you mean, you know-nothings, by flattening the sail like that? So, that’s better, belay!” And so the old fellow went on, making the round of the decks and trimming every sail until it drew to the utmost advantage.

  At length, as the schooner rose upon the crest of a sea, the gleam of the sun upon white canvas was caught for a moment and instantly reported by a dozen eager voices from the forecastle. It then bore two and a half points good upon the weather bow. I again hailed the royal-yard:

  “Royal-yard there! can you make out how the strangers are steering, Mr Boyne? We are heading north-east and by north.”

  “Ay, ay, sir; if that is the case the vessels ahead are steering about west-south-west.”

  “That will do, Mr Boyne; you may come down, sir! Clear for action, Mr Pottle, if you please, and then let the crew go to quarters.”

  “Ay, ay, sir. Clear for action, Mr Fidd!”

  “Twee, twee, twee-e-e, tweetle, weetle, tee, tee, tee-e!” piped the boatswain, following up his shrill music with the hoarse bellow of:

  “All hands clear for action. Now then, old stew-pan,”—to the cook—“dowse your galley-fire, my hearty, and stow away all your best chiney down in the run. Tumble up there, you bull-dogs, tumble up!”

  It was no very long job to prepare the schooner for action, and in twenty minutes everything was ready—the magazine opened, powder and shot passed up on deck, the guns cast loose and loaded, the pikes cut adrift from the main-boom, arms served out to the crew, and every man at his appointed station. By this time the lower yards of the brig had risen level with the horizon, whilst the upper half of the frigate’s topsails could be seen from the deck. The firing, meanwhile, had gone on pretty deliberately, and it was now possible to see from our deck, with the aid of a telescope, that the sails of both pursuer and pursued were suffering pretty extensively from the effects of the cannonade. It was evident that each was firing high, the frigate trying to wing the brig and so arrest her flight, whilst the brig was equally anxious to maim her big antagonist’s spars, by which means only could she hope to effect her escape. So far the brig appeared to be getting rather the best of it, for though her canvas showed the daylight through it in several places, her spars and running gear still remained uninjured, and every sail was drawing to the utmost advantage, whilst the frigate had lost her fore royal-mast, which, with its sail, was hanging down over the topgallant-sail and topsail, and the main-topmast studding-sail tack was cut and the sail streaming out loose and flapping furiously in the wind; these little casualties being sufficient to enable the brig to hold her own, for the time being at least, in the unequal race. To encourage the plucky little vessel, by showing her that help was at hand, we now fired a gun and hoisted our colours, allowing the ensign to stream as far out to leeward as possible, in the act of running it up to the gaff-end, in order that those on board her might catch a glimpse of it before it was hidden by our canvas. Approaching each other as we were, nearly end on, we rose each other very rapidly; and at length we in the Dolphin had the satisfaction of seeing the frigate, the vessel most distant from us, fairly hull-up. She had by this time cleared away the wreck of her fore royal-mast, had spliced her studding-sail tack, and was in the very act of setting the sail again when the brig’s two stern-chasers spoke out simultaneously, and next moment down toppled the frigate’s fore and main-topgallant-masts with all attached, the topgallant studding-sail booms snapping off like carrots at the same time, and there the noble craft was in a pretty mess. A ringing cheer, which those on board the brig might almost have heard, went up from our lads at this sight, followed by a hoarse murmur of:

  “Lookout! now Johnny Crapeau has lost his temper, and the brig is going to get loco in ’arnest!” as the frigate put her helm down and fired her whole broadside at the flying craft. There was not so very much damage done, after all, so far as the brig was concerned. Her peak-halliards were cut and she temporarily lost the use of her main trysail, and we could see a rope’s-end or two streaming out here and there in the wind; but that was all, excepting that her canvas showed a few extra eyelet-holes. With the frigate, however, it was different; by yielding to his feeling of exasperation, as he had, her skipper had been betrayed into a very unseamanlike act, in luffing his ship with all her studding-sails upon her, and the result was that he lost the remainder of his booms in an instant, and found himself in a worse pickle than ever.

  By this time the brig had passed far enough to leeward of us to be able to clearly distinguish the colour of our bunting; and seeing also that we were indisputably holding our luff so as to close with the frigate, she accepted us as a friend, notwithstanding our decidedly rakish appearance, and at once coolly began to shorten sail, evidently now determined, with our aid, to try conclusions with her big antagonist. It was about time for us to do the same; we accordingly clewed up and furled our royal and topgallant-sail, hauled down and stowed the gaff-topsail and main-topmast staysail, brailed in the foresail, and triced up the tack of the mainsail; which left the schooner in condition to be worked by less than a dozen hands. By the time that this had been accomplished, the running gear hauled taut, rope’s-ends coiled down, and everything made ship-shape on board us, we had arrived within a distance of something like two miles of the frigate, at which juncture she fired a shot at us from her bow gun, possibly as a hint to us not to interfere with her. The shot fell short several yards.

  “Umph!” remarked Woodford from his post at the helm, “nothing very terrific about that! A twelve-pounder, apparently, and a shockingly poor aim. Our thirty-two will make the Johnnies open their eyes with astonishment, I expect.”

  “Yes,” said I; “we ought to be able to reach her from here, so I’ll let ‘Long Tom’ return their compliment. Forward, there! are you ready with the pivot gun?”

  “All ready, sir,” was the reply.

  “Then just give the frigate a taste of your quality. We will keep away a couple of points so that you may have a fair chance; and see if you can’t make the shot tell.”

  “Ay, ay, sir; if I don’t make the splinters fly you may stop my grog for the next month,” answered Collins, the captain of the gun, who happened to be a bit of a favourite with me, and was a trifle free in his language in consequence.

  The gun was carefully levelled; and, when they were all ready, Woodford gently put the helm up; the schooner gradually fell off from the wind, and presently there was a deafening explosion, accompanied by a jarring concussion which shook the schooner from stem to stern; and as the smoke drove away to leeward we saw a jet of spray a dozen feet high shoot into the air as the ball struck the crest of a wave, and in another instant a white patch of nak
ed wood appeared exactly in the centre of a port-sill, showing where the shot had hulled the frigate.

  “Good! if that hasn’t crippled one of their guns I’m a Dutchman,” ejaculated Woodford, letting the schooner come up “full and by” once more.

  “Very good indeed, Collins,” I shouted. “Load again, my fine fellow, as quickly as possible. Sail trimmers, ready about! Mr Boyne, see that the muzzles of your larboard broadside guns are well elevated, and fire as they are brought to bear. Take steady aim, lads, and do not throw away a single shot if you can help it. Ha! he is going to rake us! Down with your helm, Woodford. Helm’s a-lee! Ease up your jib-sheets, forward, there! Round in upon the main-sheet, smartly, men. Let draw the fore-sheet; braces let go and haul!”

  The schooner—what a beauty she was!—worked like a top, and was round on the other tack, presenting her broadside to the frigate, when the latter launched the whole contents of her larboard battery at us. Almost at the same moment we fired the four eighteens in our larboard battery at her; and then, before we had time to note the damage done, if any, her shot came screaming about our ears. There was a crash on board the schooner, but only one; it was caused by a shot passing through our weather bulwarks and striking a ring-bolt in the deck, after which it bounded high in the air and went overboard to leeward. There were a couple of holes in our beautiful mainsail, and one in the flying-jib; but beyond that we were uninjured. One of the men in the larboard battery had his cheek slightly lacerated by a splinter, but with that trifling exception none of us were any the worse. The frigate, however, did not escape quite so easily. When we again looked at her it was seen that we had knocked away her jib-boom close to the cap, and had cut away her flying-jib halliards and stay, with the result that the sail was towing under her forefoot; her fore-topsail tye had also been cut, and the yard was down on the cap, rendering their plight worse than ever. This loss of head sail occurring at a moment when, having partially luffed to fire at us, the wind was well on her starboard quarter, the frigate now showed symptoms of flying up into the wind altogether; and although it was evident, from the sluggish way in which she did so, that the tendency was being strongly counteracted by her helm, I soon saw that her crew were powerless, and that fly into the wind she would, in spite of them.