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<h3>Chapter Forty Four.</h3> <h4>Money can purchase anything in the new country—American information not always to be depended upon—A night attack; we are beaten off—It proves a “cut up,” instead of a “cut out”—After all, we save something out of the fire.</h4> The next morning we weighed anchor, and returned to our station off Martinique. We had run within three miles of St. Pierre’s, when we discovered a vessel coming out under jury-masts. She steered directly for us, and we made her out to be the American brigantine which we had boarded some time before. O’Brien sent a boat to bring the master of her on board. “Well, captain,” said he, “so you met with a squall?” “I calculate not,” replied he. “Why, then, what the devil have you been about?” “Why, I guess I sold all my cargo, and, what’s more, I’ve sold my masts.” “Sold your masts! whom did you sell them to?” “To an almighty pretty French privateer lying in St. Pierre’s, which had lost her spars when she was chased by one of your brass-bottomed sarpents; and I’ve a notion they paid pretty handsomely too.” “But how do you mean to get home again?” “I calculate to get into the stream, and then I’ll do very well. If I meet a nor-wester, why then I’ll make a signal of distress, and some one will tow me in, I guess.” “Well,” replied O’Brien, “but step down into the cabin, and take something, captain.” “With particular pleasure,” replied this strange mortal; and down they went. In about half-an-hour, they returned on deck, and the boat took the American on board. Soon afterwards, O’Brien desired Osbaldistone and myself to step down into the cabin. The chart of the harbour of St. Pierre’s lay on the table, and O’Brien said, “I have had a long conversation with the American, and he states that the privateer is at anchor in this spot” (pointing to a pencil-mark on the chart). “If so, she is well out; and I see no difficulty in capturing her. You see that she lies in four fathoms water, and so close under the outer battery, that the guns could not be pointed down upon the boats. I have also inquired if they keep a good look-out, and the American says that they feel so secure, that they keep no look-out at all; that the captain and officers belonging to her are on shore all night, drinking, smoking, and boasting of what they will do. Now the question is, whether this report be correct. The American has been well-treated by us, and I see no reason to doubt him; indeed he gave the information voluntarily, as if he wished to serve us.” I allowed Osbaldistone to speak first; he coincided with O’Brien, I did not: the very circumstance of her requiring new masts made me doubt the truth of his assertion, as to where she lay; and if one part of his story were false, why not the whole? O’Brien appeared struck with my argument, and it was agreed that if the boats did go away, it should be for a reconnaissance, and that the attempt should only be made, provided it was found that the privateer lay in the same spot pointed out by the American master. It was, however, decided that the reconnaissance should take place that very night, as allowing the privateer to be anchored on the spot supposed, there was every probability that she would not remain there, but haul further in, to take in her new masts. The news that an expedition was at hand was soon circulated through the ship, and all the men had taken their cutlasses from the capstan to get them ready for action. The fighting boats’ crews, without orders, were busy with their boats, some cutting up old blankets to muffle the oars, others making new grummets. The ship’s company were as busy as bees, bustling and buzzing about the decks, and reminding you of the agitation which takes place in a hive previous to a swarm. At last Osbaldistone came on deck, and ordered the boats’ crews to be piped away, and prepare for service. I was to have the command of the expedition in the launch—I had charge of the first cutter—O’Farrel of the second, and Swinburne had the charge of the jolly-boat. At dusk, the head of the brig was again turned towards St. Pierre’s, and we ran slowly in. At ten we hove-to, and about eleven the boats were ordered to haul up, O’Brien repeating his orders to Mr Osbaldistone, not to make the attempt if the privateer were found to be anchored close to the town. The men were all mustered on the quarter-deck, to ascertain if they had the distinguishing mark on their jackets, that is, square patches of canvas sewed on the left arm, so that we might recognise friend from foe—a very necessary precaution in a night expedition; and then they were manned, and ordered to shove off. The oars were dropped in the water, throwing out a phosphorescent light, so common in that climate, and away we went. After an hour’s pulling, Osbaldistone lay on his oars in the launch, and we closed with him. “We are now at the mouth of the harbour,” said he, “and the most perfect silence must be observed.” “At the mouth of the harbour, sir!” said Swinburne; “I reckon we are more than half-way in; we passed the point at least ten minutes ago, and this is the second battery we are now abreast of.” To this Osbaldistone did not agree, nor indeed did I think that Swinburne was right; but he persisted in it, and pointed out to us the lights in the town, which were now all open to us, and which would not be the case if we were only at the mouth of the harbour. Still we were of a different opinion, and Swinburne, out of respect to his officers, said no more. We resumed our oars, pulling with the greatest caution; the night was intensely dark, and we could distinguish nothing. After pulling ten minutes more, we appeared to be close to the lights in the town; still we could see no privateer or any other vessel. Again we lay upon our oars, and held a consultation. Swinburne declared that if the privateer lay where we supposed, we had passed her long ago; but while we were debating, O’Farrel cried out, “I see her;” and he was right—she was not more than a cable’s length from us. Without waiting for orders, O’Farrel desired his men to give way, and dashed alongside of the privateer. Before he was half-way on board of her, lights flew about in every direction, and a dozen muskets were discharged. We had nothing to do but to follow him, and in a few seconds we were all alongside of her; but she was well prepared and on the alert. Boarding nettings were triced up all round, every gun had been depressed as much as possible, and she appeared to be full of men. A scene of confusion and slaughter now occurred, which I trust never again to witness. All our attempts to get on board were unavailing; if we tried at a port, a dozen pikes thrust us back; if we attempted the boarding nettings, we were thrown down, killed or wounded, into the boats. From every port, and from the decks of the privateer, the discharge of musketry was incessant. Pistols were protruded and fired in our faces, while occasionally her carronades went off, stunning us with their deafening noise, and rocking the boats in the disturbed water, if they had no other effect. For ten minutes our exertions never ceased; at last, with half our numbers lying killed and wounded in the bottom of the boats, the men, worn out and dispirited at their unavailing attempts, sat down most of them on the boats’ thwarts, loading their muskets, and discharging them into the ports. Osbaldistone was among the wounded; and perceiving that he was not in the launch, of whose crew not six remained, I called to Swinburne, who was alongside of me, and desired him to tell the other boats to make the best of their way out of the harbour. This was soon communicated to the survivors, who would have continued the unequal contest to the last man, if I had not given the order. The launch and second cutter shoved off—O’Farrel also having fallen; and, as soon as they were clear of the privateer, and had got their oars to pass, I proceeded to do the same, amidst the shots and yells of the Frenchmen, who now jumped on their gunwale and pelted us with their musketry, cheering and mocking us. “Stop, sir,” cried Swinburne, “we’ll have a bit of revenge;” so saying, he hauled-to the launch, and wending her bow to the privateer, directed her carronade—which they had no idea that we had on board, as we had not fired it—to where the Frenchmen were crowded the thickest. “Stop one moment, Swinburne; put another dose of cannister in.” We did so, and then discharged the gun, which had the most murderous effect, bringing the major part of them down upon the deck. I feel convinced, from the cries and groans which followed, that if we had had a few more men, we might have returned and captured the privateer; but it was too late. The batteries were all lighted up, and although they could not see the boats, fired in the direction where they supposed us to be; for they were aware, from the shouting on board the vessel, that we had been beaten off. The launch had but six hands capable of taking an oar; the first cutter had but four. In my own boat I had five. Swinburne had two besides himself in the jolly-boat. “This is a sorry business, sir,” said Swinburne; “now what’s best to he done? My idea is, that we had better put all the wounded men into the launch, man the two cutters and jolly-boat, and tow her off. And, Mr Simple, instead of keeping on this side, as they will expect in the batteries, let us keep close inshore, upon the near side, and their shot will pass over us.” This advice was too good not to be followed. It was now two o’clock, and we had a long pull before us, and no time to lose. We lifted the dead bodies and the wounded men out of the two cutters and jolly-boat into the launch. I had no time for examination, but I perceived that O’Farrel was quite dead, and also a youngster of the name of Pepper, who must have smuggled himself into the boats. I did, however, look for Osbaldistone, and found him in the stern sheets of the launch. He had received a deep wound in the breast, apparently with a pike. He was sensible, and asked me for a little water, which I procured from the breaker, which was in the launch, and gave it to him. At the word water, and hearing it poured out from the breaker, many of the wounded men faintly called out for some. Having no time to spare, I left two men in the launch, one to steer, and the other to give them water, and then taking her in tow, pulled directly in for the batteries, as advised by Swinburne, who now sat alongside of me. As soon as we were well in-shore, I pulled out of the harbour, with feelings not by any means enviable. Swinburne said to me in a low voice, “This will be a hard blow for the captain, Mr Simple. I’ve always been told, that a young captain losing his men without bringing any dollars to his admiral, is not very well received.” “I am more sorry for him than I can well express, Swinburne,” replied I; “but—what is that a-head—a vessel under weigh?” Swinburne stood up in the stern of the cutter, and looked for a few seconds. “Yes, a large ship standing in under royals—she must be a Frenchman. Now’s our time, sir; so long as we don’t go out empty-handed, all will be well. Oars all of you. Shall we cast off the launch, sir?” “Yes,” replied I, “and now, my lads, let us only have that vessel, and we shall do. She is a merchantman, that’s clear (not that I was sure of it), Swinburne, I think it will be better to let her pass us in-shore; they will all be looking out of the other side, for they must have seen the firing.” “Well thought of, sir,” replied Swinburne. We lay on our oars, and let her pass us, which she did, creeping in at the rate of two miles an hour. We then pulled for her quarter in the three boats, leaving the launch behind us, and boarded. As we premised, the crew were on deck, and all on the other side of the vessel, so anxiously looking at the batteries, which were still firing occasional random shot, that they did not perceive us until we were close to them, and then they had no time to seize their arms. There were several ladies on board: some of the people protected them, others ran below. In two minutes we had possession of her, and had put her head the other way. To our surprise we found that she mounted fourteen guns. One hatch we left open for the ladies, some of whom had fainted, to be taken down below; the others were fastened down by Swinburne. As soon as we had the deck to ourselves, we manned one of the cutters, and sent it for the launch; and as soon as she was made fast alongside, we had time to look about us. The breeze freshened, and, in half-an-hour we were out of gun-shot of all the batteries. I then had the wounded men taken out of the launch, and Swinburne and the other men bound up their wounds, and made them as comfortable as they could. <hr></div> <div class="bodytext"> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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