Фредерик Марриет
Percival Keene
Chapter Twenty One
IT was not until three or four days after the ship had sailed from Martinique that the captain spoke to me. I had during that time remained in my cot, which was hung up in the fore-cabin, and when the surgeon dressed my wounds it was only in the presence of Bob Cross. On the fourth morning after our sailing, the captain came inside of the screen, which was hung round my cot:– “Well, Mr Keene,” said he in a very kind voice, “how are you?”
“Much better, sir, I thank you; and hope you will look over the great liberty I ventured to take for the honour of the service.”
“Why,” replied the captain, smiling, “I think you have been sufficiently punished already for your temerity; I appreciate your motive of action and feel obliged to you for your great zeal towards the service and towards me. The only objection (I may say annoyance) I have on the subject is, the mystery and secrecy compelled to be observed in consequence of your taking my place; and still more, that one of the seamen of the ship should be a party to the secret.”
“I certainly did not consider the consequences as I ought to have done, sir, when I ventured to act as I did,” replied I.
“Say no more about it, Mr Keene. I am very sorry to hear of your mother’s death; but it was not, I believe, unexpected.”
“No, sir,” replied I; “and therefore the shock has not been so great.”
“Well, Mr Keene, of course it is from the interest I took in your mother that I was induced to take you under my protection, and her death will make no difference in that point, so long as you conduct yourself as you have hitherto done. You have now created a strong interest for yourself by your good conduct, and I shall not lose sight of you. How many months have you yet to serve before your time is out?”
“I have served five years and seven months, as far as I can recollect.”
“So I thought. Now, Mr Keene, it was because I thought of you that I did not fill up the lieutenant’s vacancy which was made by the death of Captain W and the promotion of the commander and my first lieutenant. As soon as you are well, I will give you an acting order as lieutenant of this ship; and, as we are now on a sort of roving commission, I have no doubt but that you will have served your time, and found the means of passing, before we join the admiral; your promotion will, under such circumstances, be, I have no doubt, confirmed; so all you have to do now is to get well as fast as you can. Good-bye.”
The captain gave me a most gracious nod, and then went outside of the screen, giving me no time for thanks. I was, indeed, overjoyed; not so much at the promotion as at the change in the captain’s manner towards me: a change so palpable that it filled me with the fondest anticipations. I remained for a long while reflecting upon my future prospects. As a lieutenant of the same ship I should be more in contact with him: he could now converse and take notice of me without its being considered remarkable; nay, he could be intimate with me. I resolved to be most careful of my conduct, so as not to alarm his pride by the least familiarity, and hoped, eventually, to play my cards so as to obtain my earnest wish; but I felt that there was a great deal of ground to go over first, and that the greatest circumspection was necessary. I felt that I had still to raise myself in his opinion and in the opinion of the world to a much higher position than I was in at present, before I could expect that Captain Delmar would, virtually, acknowledge me as his son. I felt that I had to wade through blood, and stand the chance of thousands of balls and bullets in my professional career, before I could do all this; a bright vista of futurity floated before me and, in the far distance, I felt myself in the possession of my ambition, and with my eyes still fixed upon it I dropped fast asleep, revelling still in the same dreams which I had indulged in when awake.
In a fortnight I was quite recovered; my wounds had healed up, and I now walked about. Having had my uniform altered by the ship’s tailor, and procured an epaulet from one of the lieutenants, I took possession of my cabin in the gun-room, and was warmly received by my new messmates; but I did not return to my duty for nearly a month, on account of a little lameness still remaining, and which the surgeon declared was often the case after the yellow fever!!
I ought to have observed, that when my mother was so indulgent as to commit suicide for my sake, she had taken every precaution, and the letter of my grandmother informed Captain Delmar that my mother had bequeathed me 12,000 pounds in the three per cents, which she had laid by from her business, and that therefore there was no longer any occasion that I should be an expense to Captain Delmar. It must not, however, be supposed, from my grandmother stating this, that Captain Delmar was at all mercenary or stingy; on the contrary, considering that, as the second son of a nobleman, he had only 1,000 pounds per annum besides his pay, he was exceedingly liberal (although not extravagant) in all money matters.
At last I was well enough to return to my duty; and glad I was to be once more walking the quarter-deck, not as before, on the lee, but on the weather side, with an epaulet on my shoulder. Strange to say, there was not a midshipman in the ship (although there were so many) who had served so long as I had, and in consequence there was not any heart-burning or jealousy at my promotion, and I continued on the best terms with my old mess-mates, although gradually lessening the intimacy which existed between us. But that was not intentional on my part; it was the effect of my promotion, and removal from the berth of a set of lads to the company of the senior and older officers. I was now a man, and had the feelings and thoughts of a man. My frolics and tricks were discarded with the midshipman’s coat; and in respecting my new rank I respected myself.
Now that I walked on the same side of the deck, Captain Delmar very often entered into conversation with me; and although at first it was with caution on his part, yet, when he found that I never presumed, and was, invariably, most respectful, he became on much more intimate terms with me.
During three months we continued cruising about without falling in with or having received any intelligence of the French frigate which we were sent in quest of; at last Captain Delmar resolved to change the cruising ground, and we ran up to ten degrees of latitude further north.
As we were running up, we fell in with an American brig, and brought her to; a boat was sent for the captain, who, when he came on board, was interrogated by Captain Delmar, as to his having seen or heard of any French vessel on that coast. As the conversation took place on the quarter-deck, and I was officer of the watch, I can repeat it.
“Well,” replied the American through his nose, “I reckon there is a Frenchman in these parts?”
“Have you fallen in with her?” inquired Captain Delmar.
“Well, I may say I have; for I lay alongside of her in Cartagena when I was taking in my cargo of hides. You haven’t such a thing as a spar as will make me a pole top-gallant mast, captain, have you?”
“Is she large or small?”
“Well, captain, I don’t care whether the spar be large or small; I’ve two carpenters on board, and I’ll soon dub it down into shape.”
“I inquired about the vessel—I did not refer to the spar,” replied Captain Delmar, haughtily.
“And I referred to the spar, which is my business, and not to the vessel, which is no consarn of mine,” replied the American captain. “You see, master, we have both our wants; you want information, I want a spar: I have no objection to a fair swop.”
“Well,” replied Captain Delmar, rather amused, “give me the information and you shall have the spar.”
“That’s agreed.”
“Send for the carpenter, and desire him to get out a small spar, Mr —,” said Captain Delmar to the first lieutenant.
“Well, captain, that looks like business, and so now I’ll go on. The Frenchman is as large as you; may be,” said he, looking round the deck, “he may be a bit larger, but you won’t mind that, I suppose.”
“Did you leave her in port when you sailed?”
“I reckon she was off two days before me.”
“And how many days is it since you sailed?”
“Just four days, I calculate.”
“And did you hear where she was going to?”
“Yes, I did, and I’ve a notion I could put my finger upon her now, if I choosed. Captain, you haven’t got a coil of two-inch which you could lend me—I ain’t got a topsail brace to reeve and mine are very queer just now. I reckon they’ve been turned end for end so often, that there’s an end of them.”
“You say that you know where the vessel is—where is she?”
“Captain, that’s telling—can’t I have the two inch?”
“We have not a whole coil of two-inch left, sir,” said the master, touching his hat. “We might spare him enough for a pair of new braces.”
“Well, well, I’m reasonable altogether, and if so be you haven’t got it, I don’t expect it. It’s very odd now, but I can’t just now remember the place that the French vessel was going to; it’s slipped clean out of my memory.”
“Perhaps the two-inch might help your memory,” replied the captain. “Mr Smith, let the rope be got up and put into the boat.”
“Well,” said the American captain, “as you say, mister, it may help my memory. It’s not the first time that I’ve freshened a man’s memory with a bit of two-inch myself,” continued he, grinning at his own joke; “but I don’t see it coming.”
“I have ordered it to be put in the boat,” replied Captain Delmar, haughtily: “my orders are not disobeyed, nor is my word doubted.”
“Not by them as knows you, I dare say, captain, but you’re a stranger to me; I don’t think I ask much, after all—a bit of spar and a bit of rope—just to tell you where you may go and take a fine vessel, and pocket a nation lot of dollars as prize-money. Well, there’s the rope, and now I’ll tell you. She was going off Berbice or Surinam, to look after the West Indiamen, who were on the coast, or expected on it, I don’t know which. There you’ll find her, as sure as I stand here; but I think that she is a bit bigger than this vessel—you don’t mind that, I dare say.”
“You may go on board now, sir,” said Captain Delmar.
“Well, thank ye, captain, and good luck to you.”
The American captain went down the side; and as soon as our boat returned, and was hoisted up, we made all sail for the coast of Demerara.
“She must be a fine vessel,” said Captain Delmar to me, as he was walking the deck,—“a very fine vessel, if she is bigger than we are.”
“You will excuse me, Captain Delmar, if I venture to observe that there was an expression in the eye of the American, when he said a bit bigger, which made me take it into my head, that in saying so, he was only deceiving us. The Americans are not very partial to us, and would be glad of any revenge.”
“That may be, Mr Keene; but I do not see that he can be deceiving us, by making her out to be larger, as it is putting us on our guard. Had he said that she was smaller, it would then have been deceiving us.”
“I did not take it in that sense, sir,” replied I. “He said a bit bigger; now, I can’t help thinking that a bit bigger was meant to deceive us, and that it will prove that the Frenchman is a line-of-battle ship, and not a frigate: he wished to leave us under the impression that it was a larger frigate than our own and no more.”
“It may be so,” replied Captain Delmar, thoughtfully; “at all events, Mr Keene, I am obliged to you for the suggestion.”
The captain took two or three more turns fore and aft in silence and then quitted the deck.
Chapter Twenty Two
In three days we had gained the latitude of Berbice, and on the fourth morning the men at the mast-head were keeping a sharp look-out for any strange sail. Our head was then towards the land, which, being very low, could not be seen; the breeze was light, the royals had been set, and the men piped down to breakfast, when the mast-head-man reported three sail right ahead. We soon made them out to be merchant vessels, and as they separated, and made all sail from us, we made sure that they had been captured; and so it proved when we took possession of them, which we did not do of the third before night-fall.
Upon interrogating the prisoners and the few English who had been left on board the prizes, we found out that I had been right in my conjecture; they had been captured by a French line-of-battle ship, which they had left in shore the evening before. The English reported her a very fast sailer, and believed her to be an eighty gun ship—indeed the French prisoners acknowledged that such was the case.
This was very important intelligence, and Captain Delmar walked up and down deck in deep thought: the fact was, he was puzzled how to act. To attempt to cope with such a force, unless under peculiarly favourable circumstances, would be madness: to leave the coast and our mercantile navy exposed to her depredations, was at the same time very repulsive to his feelings and sense of duty. The prizes had been manned, the prisoners were on board, the boats hoisted up, and the Manilla still remained hove to. The fact was, the captain did not know which way to put the ship’s head; and he walked up and down in deep thought.
“Mr Keene, is it your watch?”
“No, sir.”
“Oblige me by telling the master to work up the reckoning; I wish to know exactly where we are.”
“It is done already, sir,” replied I, “and pricked off on the chart—I have just left the gun-room.”
“Then, Mr Keene, bring the chart into my cabin.” I followed into the cabin with the chart, which I laid down on the table, and pointed out the position of the ship.
“You were right in your supposition, Mr Keene,” said the captain; “and really this vessel turning out to be a line-of-battle ship has put me in a very awkward predicament—I really am puzzled. Fighting is of no use, and yet run away I will not, if I can possibly help it.”
Now, I had been studying the chart, and had made up my own mind how I should have acted under the circumstances, had I been in Captain Delmar’s position. The great point was, to give him my ideas without appearing to offer advice; I therefore replied, “We have one advantage, at all events sir; we have been cruising so long that we are flying light—I don’t think we draw sixteen feet water.”
“Yes, that may give us the heels of her in light winds, certainly,” replied the captain.
“I think she cannot draw less than twenty-six or twenty-seven feet of water, sir,” continued I, to put him on the right scent, “which, on this coast, will be a great advantage. I think, sir, when I was down below, I measured from soundings to soundings, and the water is so shallow, and deepens so gradually, that there is a distance of four miles between seventeen feet and twenty-eight feet water.”
I took up the compass so as to take in the two soundings laid down in the chart, and then measuring the distance, showed that my assertion was true. The captain said nothing for a little while. At last I perceived a smile on his lips. “Tell the officer of the watch to lower down the cutter, Mr Keene. Go on board of the prizes, and tell them, in addition to their present orders, to follow us, that in case of an enemy, they are to run as close in shore as the water will allow them, and drop their anchors.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” replied I, leaving the cabin.
This order satisfied me that the captain perceived what I would suggest, which was, that if we once got in shore and in shallow water we might laugh at the line-of-battle ship, which, in all probability would not be able to get near enough to reach us with her guns; or, if she attempted it, she would run on shore, and then we should have the best of it.
As soon as I had given the orders to the prize-masters and returned on board, the boat was hoisted up, and all sail made for the land. At twelve o’clock we sounded, and found ourselves in nine-fathom water, by which we calculated we were about thirty miles from the land. I hardly need say that a most careful lookout was kept up, that we might not fall in with our formidable adversary.
At one o’clock the moon rose, and I, having the middle watch, surveyed the horizon on every side, but without discovering the enemy; but at half-past three the day dawned, and before my watch was over it was broad daylight; and then, just as I was going down, having been relieved by the second lieutenant, a strange sail was reported about eight miles to leeward, two points before the beam.
The second lieutenant hastened down to the cabin, to report to the captain, and I went up to the mast-head to make her out, and I soon discovered that she was a line-of-battle ship: I immediately descended, and reported to the captain, who had come on deck. As we could distinguish the masts and sails of the enemy very well from the deck, the glasses were fixed upon her at the gang-way, and she was seen to set her royals and flying jib in chase of us; but we felt that we were safe, as we should be in shallow water long before she could beat up to us. All we had to fear for was the merchant vessels which we had re-taken, and which were two or three miles astern of us, with all the sail that they could carry.
It was a five-knot breeze, and the water quite smooth, which was very favourable for the line-of-battle ship and ourselves, but not for the merchant vessels, which, with their cargoes, required more wind to propel them through the water. The state of affairs, when the hands were piped to breakfast, was as follows:—
The French line-of-battle ship had stood in for the land, under all sail, until half-past-seven, being then, as she was when we first saw her, exactly two points before the beam, when, probably being in shoal water, she had tacked, and was now a little abaft our beam, and lying pretty well up for the merchant vessel the furthest astern of us. Since she had tacked, she had risen her hull out of water, so as to show her upper tier of guns. Two of the merchant vessels were about three miles astern of us,—the other one, five, and stood a fair chance of being cut off; the more so, because when we discovered the enemy, we were standing about two points free, right for the coast; whereas, upon her hauling her wind in chase, we of course did the same, which made us approach the shallow water in a more slanting direction, and consequently not get in quite so soon. We were now in seven fathoms water, and, by our pricking off on the chart, about eleven miles from land, which was so low as to be barely visible from the mast-head. The men were allowed an hour to their breakfast, and then we beat to quarters. The captain did not, however, put out the fires, so as to prevent the ship’s company’s dinner being cooked, as everything was ready, and the magazines could be opened in a minute.
At ten o’clock we had drawn into six fathoms water; the Frenchman was now nearly astern of us, still on the opposite tack, and passing about three miles to leeward of the merchant vessel which lagged most behind. It was now considered certain that she would re-capture this vessel, which was at least seven miles astern of us, and not impossible that she might take one, if not both of the others, as it was evident she was a prime sailer, as fast almost as our own ship.
At a quarter-past ten, the French line-of-battle ship tacked, and stood right after us in our wake, being now hull down about twelve miles from us.
“He’ll soon have the starnmost vessel, Mr Keene,” said Bob Cross to me. “Mr Dott has charge of her; he is always in some scrape or other.”
“Yes,” replied I; “but he gets out of them, and I dare say he will out of this.”
“Helm up there, quarter-master—flatten in forward.”
“The wind’s heading us, sir,” said the master; “she’s full again now. Thus, boy, and nothing off.”
“She has broken off two points, sir.”
“All the better,” replied the captain; “it’s a squeak for Mr Dott.”
In a few minutes we perceived that the other vessel had met the change in the wind and had broken off as well as ourselves. The Frenchman did not now lay up for the merchant vessel as she did before, and the latter had some chance of escape. It was very exciting: for as the time drew nearer to noon, the wind became more light and more variable, and at one time all the vessels broke off another point; shortly afterwards, the wind flew back again to the point which it at first blew from, and the enemy lay once more right up for the merchant vessels. The French line-of-battle ship was still about four miles astern of the merchant vessel nearest to her.
“I think we shall have a calm soon,” observed Captain Delmar. “Square the mainyard; we may as well be nearer to her, as not, now; for if it falls calm she will recapture them with her boats, and we shall be too far to give any assistance. Get the yard tackles up: all ready, Mr —?”
“Aye, aye, sir,” replied the first lieutenant.
“Pipe the boat’s crew away, and let them get their guns and ammunition on the gangway.”
It was about a quarter to eleven when we hove to, the breeze still continuing variable and light, and the French line-of-battle ship did not come up so fast as before. We sounded after we hove to, and found that we were in five and a half fathoms water.
At twelve o’clock, in consequence of our having hove to, the relative positions of the vessels were as follows:– The two merchant vessels which had been about four miles astern of us were now alongside of us; the third was about three miles astern of us; and the Frenchman was about the same distance astern of her; so that our frigate was about six miles from the French line-of-battle ship.
Captain Delmar had given orders to pipe to dinner at seven bells (half-past eleven o’clock); that in case the boats were required, the men might have dined before the were sent away. A few minutes after twelve o’clock it fell a dead calm; the hands were turned up, the boats hoisted out and lowered down, the guns and ammunition put in them, and everything in readiness; we keeping our glasses upon the enemy, and watching her manoeuvring, which, at the distance we were, was now easily to be distinguished. Captain Delmar was aware that he ran some risk in sending his boats away, for it might so happen that a breeze might spring up from the seaward, and the enemy have the advantage of it long before us; if so, it might bring her up to the vessel astern, and the boats be captured: indeed it might bring her up nearly alongside of us before we caught the wind. It was necessary therefore, to be very cautious, and not send the boats away till the last moment—that is, before we saw the French ship hoisting out or lowering down her own. That the Frenchman knew that our boats had been hoisted out, could not be doubted, as their eyes were quite as sharp as ours. They, however, tried to double us; for all of a sudden, as I had my glass upon the French ship, I perceived three boats coming round her quarter, and pulling right for the merchant vessel: the fact was, that she had lowered down her stern and quarter boats to leeward, which we could not perceive. I reported this immediately to the captain, who ordered the boats’ crews to be piped away.
“Who is to command the boats, sir?” said the first lieutenant.
“Mr Keene,” said the captain.
“Mr Keene, I wish to speak with you before you go.”
Captain Delmar then walked to the capstern, and, in few words, pointed out what I have just stated as the difficulty which might occur, and the chances of capture.
“You understand me, Mr Keene?”
“Perfectly, sir,” replied I.
“Well, then, I trust to your discretion, Mr Keene, and hope I shall not be disappointed. Now you may go.”
“The French ship is getting up her yard tackles,” said the signal man.
“Then you have no time to lose, Mr Keene. As for the small boats, they are of no consequence.”
I went down the side, and shoved off. Our men gave way cheerfully and manfully; and the three boats of the Frenchmen had but a little start of us. In half an hour we were both within less than a mile of the merchant vessel; but the French boats were the nearest of the two. The affair now became very exciting. In another ten minutes the French boats had gained the merchant vessel, and the men were clambering up her sides, while we were not more than three cables’ length from them. That Tommy Dott was defending himself was to be presumed, as a good deal of firing took place; but before we could get alongside, it was evident that he and his men had been mastered, and the French were in possession of the vessel. But now our turn came. Dividing my boats, six in number, into two divisions, we boarded on both sides, and very soon had regained the vessel and mastered the French, who did not amount to more than thirty-five men, while we had more than seventy.
We found that the Frenchmen had not spared our people on board of the vessel, all of them being wounded or killed; but the fact was that Tommy Dott had fought most nobly, and resisted to the very last. He himself—poor fellow!—lay against the cap-stern, with his head cut open by a blow of a cutlass, and quite insensible. As soon as we had secured the prisoners, I turned my eyes to the line-of-battle ship, and saw that her large boats had shoved off; they were five in number, but much larger, and holding more men than we had.
A little reflection decided me that we should have a better chance of resisting them on board of the vessel than in the boats; and I determined that I would get my boats’ guns up on board of the vessel, and arm her in that way. It was necessary, however, to secure our boats, that they might not cut them away from alongside; I therefore, as soon as the guns and ammunition were on board, lowered the iron chain cable down from the bows, and passed it from one boat to the other under the fixed thwarts of each boat, including those captured from the French, hauling the end of the cable on board again through the stern port. We had plenty of time to do this, and make any other preparation on board, before the French boats arrived.
It was a dead calm; the sea was like a mirror, and the advancing boats, as their oars rose and fell in the water, gave you the idea of creatures possessed of life and volition, as they rapidly forced their way through the yielding fluid. The vessel’s stern was towards the line-of-battle ship, and the boats were pulling up a little on the starboard quarter. The guns which I had hoisted on board had, for want of any other means, been sufficiently secured by ropes to the slides and breechings to enable us to fire them with effect. When the boats were about a quarter of a mile from us, we opened our fire; not that we expected much from our guns, as we knew we could not obtain more than two good shots at the boats before they were alongside; still there was a chance of hitting and disabling them, and no chance was to be thrown away.
Our first shot was successful; it struck one of the pinnaces, and she swamped immediately. Our men cheered, while the other French boats pulled to it, and took up the men who were floating in the water. Before they could effect this, another gun was fired with grape and round, which apparently did some execution, as there appeared to be much confusion on board of the two boats that had gone to the assistance of their comrades. We now fully expected the boats to advance; on the contrary, they spread out on each quarter, and opened their fire upon us with their guns—a very foolish act on their part, as it gave us every advantage; for they were far superior to us in number of men, and should have boarded us at once, instead of risking the loss of more of their boats. So little did we expect this, that at one time I was debating whether I should not leave the guns in the boats alongside, instead of getting them on board, that there might be no delay in case wind sprang up, and it were necessary that we should be off; of course, as it was, I was very glad that I had decided otherwise.
The action, if it may be so termed, now continued for about half an hour without any great casualty on either side: we had five or six men wounded on board of the vessel, but none killed. I had occasionally looked round to see if there was any appearance of wind, and just about this time I perceived a black line in the offing, which promised not only wind, but wind from the very quarter which would be most disastrous to us, and I began to feel very anxious, when I heard a bugle sounded from the largest French boat. This was the signal to advance, and I was very glad, as the affair would now be soon decided.
As all our boats were secured on the starboard side of the vessel, the Frenchmen did not attempt to board on that side, as in so doing it would have been at a double disadvantage; they had therefore no alternative but to board all together on the larboard side. Two of the boats’ guns had been fixed on that side—double shotted and depressed, so as to be fired at the moment one of the boats should pass beneath them; they were both fired at the leading boat, the launch, which was very large and full of men, and the shot went through her bottom. This did not prevent her coming alongside: but she filled and sank almost immediately afterwards, while the men were climbing up the sides of the vessel. The sinking of this boat prevented the men of the other boats outside of her from supporting their companions, and we had therefore only to meet the force of the launch and the two other boats which had come alongside ahead of her, and which was in number not equal to our own.
We always had an idea that the French would never do much in the way of boarding, and so it proved; they were beat down as fast as they made their appearance above the bulwarks. The French lieutenant was attempting to get over the gunwale; he was unsupported, as almost all his men had tumbled back into the sea. Instead of cutting him down, I caught him by the collar, and hauled him on board, and as soon as he was disarmed, gave him in charge of a marine. In ten minutes all was over: two of the French boats remained alongside, and the others shoved off, half manned, and dropped astern. We gave them three cheers as a parting salutation, but we had no time to lose—the wind was evidently springing up fast; already cat’s paws were to be seen here and there rippling the water, and the line on the horizon was now dark and broad. I ordered our boats to be ready for starting, the guns to be got in, and the wounded men divided among them as fast as possible. The two large French boats which remained on the starboard side we cleared of the men who lay in them, and then had their bottoms beat out to sink them. The French lieutenant and two other officers I ordered into our own boats, to take on board as prisoners; the rest of the French who had been captured, with their wounded, we put into the three small French boats which had been captured in the first attack, taking away their oars, that, when I shoved off and left the vessel, they might drift about till they were picked up by the French ship.
