Chapter Eight.
Another stroke of luck.
Having captured the Frenchmen, the next item on the programme was to so arrange matters that they might be at once transferred to other and more comfortable quarters—thus leaving the barracoon free for the reception, if necessary, of the unfortunate slaves now close at hand without running any risk of their getting the better of my little band of invalids. This was not a very difficult matter, for there were plenty of slave irons about the place; and, having procured the necessary number of sets, I had the Frenchmen out of the barracoon, four at a time, ironed them, and then marched them out of the compound to a large empty shed which would answer the purpose of a prison most admirably. In less than half an hour I had the entire party secured and in charge of an armed guard of two men; and now all that remained to be done was to obtain possession of the brig.
To accomplish this, I chose the soundest eight of the party who had assisted in capturing the Frenchmen, and, leading them to the wharf steps, ordered them down into the French captain’s gig, which was, of course, still lying alongside the wharf. Then, stepping into the stern-sheets myself, we pushed off and headed for the brig, which we boarded a few minutes later without let or hindrance, the small number of hands still remaining on board having apparently gone below and turned in the moment that they saw the chief mate clear of the ship. At all events when we ascended the gangway ladder not a soul was to be seen; our lads therefore quickly clapped on the hatches, beginning with the fore-scuttle, and the brig was ours. Then, having made sure that the half-dozen or so of prisoners down in the forecastle could not get loose again, I went up and hauled down the French flag, hoisting it again to the gaff-end beneath an English ensign which I found in the flag-locker. I thought that the sight of the brig, with the two ensigns thus arranged, would be an agreeable sight and afford a pleasant surprise to our people when they returned from capturing the cauffle.
It had just gone five bells in the afternoon watch when the skipper’s party hove in sight at the spot where the bush path led down to the creek, and where their boats were moored. The brig, of course, at once attracted their attention, and, looking through the ship’s telescope at them, I made out Captain Perry standing alone on a little projecting point, staring hard at her, as though he scarcely knew what to make of her; I therefore ordered four hands into the gig, and, rowing across to where he stood, explained matters. My story took quite a quarter of an hour to tell, for he continually interrupted me to ask questions; but when I had finished he was good enough to express his most unqualified approval of what I had done, winding up by saying—
“I may as well tell you now, Mr Fortescue—what indeed I had quite made up my mind to before the performance of this exceedingly meritorious piece of work—that it is my intention to give you an acting order as third lieutenant, Mr Purchase and Mr Hoskins moving up a step, as well as myself, in consequence of the lamented death of Captain Harrison.”
Of course I thanked him, as in duty bound; and then he informed me that the ambuscade had been completely successful, the entire cauffle having been captured with the exchange of less than a score of shots; and that although three of the slave-traders had been killed and five wounded, not one of our own men had been hurt. But he added that the unhappy blacks were so completely worn out with their long march down to the coast that it would only be rank cruelty to release them at once, and that he had therefore decided to house them in the barracoons and give them a week’s complete rest before starting them back on their long homeward march.
“And now, Mr Fortescue,” he concluded, “since that English ensign aboard the prize has done its work, have the goodness to haul it down, and keep the French flag flying, if you please; I quite expect that we shall have two or three more ships here to help in the conveyance of this huge cauffle of slaves across the Atlantic; and I do not wish them to be alarmed and put on their guard—should they come upon us unexpectedly—by seeing a vessel riding at anchor with the signal flying that she has been captured by the English.”
This was, of course, sound common sense, and I lost not a moment in returning to the brig and making the required alteration in the arrangement of the flags. That being done, it occurred to me that it would be a wise thing to clear the remainder of the French crew out of the vessel; and this I also did; afterwards assisting in transporting the miserable slaves across the channel to the island, and helping to arrange for their comfort and well-being during the night. They were, without exception, what the slave-dealers would doubtless have called “a prime lot”—numbering fifteen hundred and eighty-four, of whom less than two hundred were women; but they were all worn to skin and bone with the fatigue and hardship which they had been called upon to endure on the march from their own country down to the coast, and were so dead-beaten with fatigue that they appeared to have sunk into such a state of apathy that even the prospect of immediate rest, plenty of good food, and a speedy restoration to liberty seemed insufficient to lift them out of it. But after they had been made to bathe and thoroughly cleanse themselves from the dust and other impurities of the march, prior to being housed in the barracoons, they seemed to pluck up a little spirit,—a salt-water bath is a wonderful tonic,—and later on in the evening, when a plentiful meal was served out to them, they so far recovered their spirits as to begin to jabber among themselves. It was close upon sunset before the last batch had been ferried across to the island and lodged in the barracoons; and then, in accordance with an order from the skipper, I took a working-party on board the brig, and, casting her off from the buoy to which she had been moored, warped her in alongside the wharf and made her fast there.
The next two days were entirely devoid of incident; but we were all kept busy in attending to the unfortunate captive blacks, supervising the bathing of them in batches, inducing them to take a moderate amount of exercise in the barracoon compounds, feeding them up, and nursing the sick—of whom, however, there was luckily a singularly small percentage. But on the morning of the third day, before the gig had started upon her daily cruise of surveillance of the river, the look-out whose turn it was for duty in the crow’s-nest had scarcely ascended to his lofty perch in the tree when he hurried down again with the intelligence that three craft—a ship, a barque, and a large brigantine—were in the offing and making for the mouth of the river. Whereupon Mr Purchase volunteered to go aloft, taking me with him as aide-de-camp, to keep an eye upon the strangers, and to transmit intelligence of their movements from time to time. The skipper promptly accepted the offer and, besides, arranged a system by which I was to write Mr Purchase’s messages, carry them from the crow’s-nest to the ground, and deliver them over to one of two midshipmen in waiting, who would at once scamper off with it, while I ascended the Jacob’s ladder again for further information, to be transmitted by the second midshipman—if, meanwhile, the first had not had time to return. This system acted admirably, for it kept the captain fully informed of the course of events, and at the same time left him quite free to attend to such preparations for the reception of the three craft as he might deem necessary.
These preparations were beautifully simple, consisting merely in the arming of every man capable of taking part in what would probably prove to be a fairly stubborn fight, manning the boats with the fighting contingent, and then remaining concealed until the approaching craft had come up to the anchorage and made fast to the buoys,—as we fully expected that they would,—when the boats were to make a simultaneous dash at all three craft and carry them by boarding, while we invalids were left to look after the prisoners and see that they did not break out and create a diversion in favour of their friends.
Meanwhile the land-breeze was fast dying away in the offing, while the sea-breeze had not yet set in, consequently, when the approaching craft arrived within about two miles of the river’s mouth they entered a streak of glassy calm, and lay there, rolling heavily, with their sun-bleached canvas napping itself threadbare against their masts and rigging, thus affording us an excellent opportunity to get breakfast at leisure, and fortify ourselves generally against the stress of the coming struggle.
We had just comfortably finished our meal, and Captain Perry had completed his final dispositions, when the look-out who had temporarily taken Mr Purchase’s place in the crow’s-nest came down with the intelligence that the sea-breeze was setting in, and might be expected to reach the becalmed craft within the next ten minutes; whereupon the first lieutenant and I returned to our post of observation to watch the progress of the approaching slavers, and report upon it from time to time.
Upon regaining our perch we saw that the brigantine, which was the outermost craft of the three, had just caught the sea-breeze and, having squared away before it, was coming along almost as fast as the breeze itself; then the barque and the ship caught it within a minute of each other, and presently all three of them were racing straight for the mouth of the river. But they were still a long way off, and, owing to the many twists and turns in the course of the river, would have nearly twenty miles to travel before they could reach the anchorage. And when, some time later, having safely negotiated the bar and entered the river, they arrived at the point where they would have to shift their helms to enter the N’Chongo Chine Lagoon—where we were patiently awaiting them—we saw that only two of them, the barque and the brigantine, were coming our way, while the ship continued on up the river, presumably bound to the Camma Lagoon, where poor Captain Harrison had lost his life in the attack upon the factory. This was a distinct relief to us; for although all our wounded were doing remarkably well, the number of men actually in fighting trim was so small that to tackle the three vessels simultaneously would have been an exceedingly formidable job, whereas we felt that the capture of two of them was well within our powers. Moreover it would be comparatively easy to take the ship upon her return down the river, which would doubtless happen immediately upon the discovery of the destruction of the factory to which she was evidently bound.
Despite the zigzag course that the two approaching craft would have to steer, the sea-breeze afforded them a leading wind all the way to the south-east end of the island, which we occupied; consequently after leaving the river and entering the lagoon they came along at a very rapid rate, the brigantine seeming to be rather the faster craft of the two. Meanwhile the skipper, being kept fully informed of the progress of the approaching vessels, had caused our prize, La Belle Estelle, to be warped far enough off from the wharf wall to allow of our boats being placed in ambush between her and the wharf, where they now lay, with their officers and crew already in them, waiting for the moment when the word should be given for them to dash forth from their hiding-place.
At length the brigantine, with the barque less than a cable’s length astern of her—both of them flying Spanish colours at their gaff-ends—arrived within a mile of the spot where it would be necessary for her to luff up in order to fetch the anchorage, whereupon Purchase and I descended from our look-out, and, having made our final report to the skipper, went our several ways—the first to take command of the pinnace in the impending attack, and I to place myself at the head of the convalescents, my duty being to assist as might be required, and to see that the prisoners did not seize the opportunity to become troublesome.
The prisoners were all confined in outbuildings at the rear of the settlement, and it was there that my little band of armed convalescents were assembled; consequently I was obliged to station myself where I could keep an eye upon and be in touch with them. Yet I was quite determined that, even though I must keep one eye upon my own especial command, and the buildings over which they were mounting guard, I would also witness the attack upon the approaching slavers. Ultimately, after two or three unsuccessful attempts, I succeeded in finding a spot from which I could accomplish both objects, and at the same time sit comfortably in the shadow of a building.
A few minutes later, from behind the belt of trees and scrub that extended along the whole southern shore of the islet, I beheld the end of the brigantine’s flying-jib-boom slide into view, with the flying-jib, recently hauled down, napping loosely in the wind; then followed the rest of the spar, with the standing jib also hauled down, and a couple of men out on the boom, busily engaged in stowing it; then her fore-topmast staysail, beautifully cut and drawing like a whole team of horses, swept into view, followed by the fore part of a very handsome hull bearing the foremast, with the topsail still set, the topgallantsail and royal clewed up and in process of being furled, and the course hanging from the foreyard in graceful festoons. Finally came the remaining length of hull with the towering mainmast supporting a mainsail as handsomely cut and setting as flat as that of a yacht.
She was a most beautiful vessel, sitting very low in the water, and therefore, perhaps, looking even longer than she actually was. She was broadside-on to me, so I could not see what amount of beam she showed; consequently it was a little difficult to estimate her size, but, judging from her general appearance, I put it down at about two hundred and twenty tons. She was painted a brilliant grass green from her rail to her copper, and showed four ports of a side, out of which peered the muzzles of certain brass cannon that I decided were probably long nines.
The vessel reached across the narrow channel and went in stays quite close to the tree-clad northern shore of the lagoon—thus at once exhibiting her own exceedingly shallow-draught of water and her skipper’s intimate knowledge of the locality—just as the barque in turn hove in sight. This last vessel had nothing at all remarkable in her appearance, except perhaps that her canvas was exceptionally well cut, but she was by no means a beauty, and to the eye presented all the characteristics of the ordinary merchantman, being painted black, with a broad white band round her upon which were depicted ten painted ports. But these appearances of honesty were deceptive, for despite the general “motherliness” of her aspect she was almost as speedy a ship as the brigantine, although she had by this time shortened down to her two topsails and fore-topmast staysail. Also, with the aid of my telescope, I was able to discern, above the blatant pretence of the painted ports, six closed ports of a side, which I had no doubt concealed as many cannon.
The brigantine, tacking as smartly and handily as a little boat, came round and headed well up for the weathermost buoy, to which she made fast a few minutes later, with the barque close upon her heels. Until the latter had also made fast to a buoy—the one astern of the brigantine—a dead silence reigned over the settlement, broken only by the shouts of the people on board the two new arrivals as they went noisily about their work of clewing up, hauling down, and furling their canvas; but the moment that the barque was fast to her buoy and the men who had bent the cable to the buoy had returned on board, there arose a sudden rattle and splash of oars, and our concealed boats swept out from their hiding-place between the brig and the wharf and made a dash for the two craft, half of them going for the brigantine while the other half struck out for the barque.
The surprise, admirably managed by the skipper, was complete; for the greater part of the crews of the two vessels was aloft furling the canvas at the moment when our boats appeared; and although their appearance served as a signal for the men aloft to swing themselves off the yards and descend to the deck by way of the backstays, yet before they had time to arm themselves and prepare for an effective resistance our lads were alongside and swarming in over the low rails of the two craft; and a very brief scuffle sufficed to place them in possession of both. Upon inspection, they proved to be undoubted slavers, for they were not only fitted with slave-decks, but had a full supply of water and meal on board; in fact they were ready for the immediate reception of their human cargo, which, but for our interference, they could have shipped and gone to sea again in a very few hours.
The barque was named Don Miguel, of three hundred and forty-seven tons measurement, hailing from Havana; with a crew of fifty-six, all told; and she mounted twelve twelve-pounders, with an ample supply of ammunition for them in her magazine. The brigantine rejoiced in the name El Caiman. She was a trifle bigger than I had estimated her to be, her papers showing her tonnage to be two hundred and thirty. She carried a crew of forty; and mounted eight beautiful brass long nines on her broadsides, as well as a long eighteen pivoted on her forecastle. She hailed from Santiago de Cuba, and was quite a new ship; whereas the Don Miguel was nearly twenty years old, and leaked like a basket when heavily pressed by her canvas, as some of us soon discovered.
None of our people were hurt in the scrimmage which resulted in the capture of these two craft; as soon, therefore, as their crews had been taken out of them and securely confined, Captain Perry made ready to sally forth and capture the ship which had gone up the river, and which might be expected to return immediately upon discovering the destruction of the factory on the Camma Lagoon. It was regarded as just possible that, finding the up-river factory destroyed, her captain might make his way to our anchorage, in the hope of securing a cargo from our factory; but, on the other hand, it was also possible that he might get an inkling of our presence somewhere in the river, and go straight to sea again, preferring to try his luck on some other part of the coast. There was just sufficient time for our lads to get a meal in comfort before the moment arrived for them to shove off and make their way to the mouth of the lagoon in order to intercept, and prevent the escape of, the returning ship; the skipper therefore gave orders to pipe all hands to dinner, and while the meal was in progress he made his dispositions for the forthcoming expedition.
As before, I was left in charge of the convalescents to take care of the sick and see that the prisoners—now, of course, considerably augmented in numbers by our most recent captures—did not get into mischief. But although I was not permitted to participate in the fun, I was in no mood to lose it altogether; I therefore waited patiently until the little flotilla of boats had started—and my services on their account were no longer required—and then, having first gone the rounds of the place and satisfied myself that everything was perfectly safe, I slung my telescope over my shoulder and made my way aloft to the crow’s-nest, wherein I comfortably settled myself, and, levelling my glass over a big branch that served admirably as a rest for it, prepared to watch the progress of the boats and, as I hoped, witness the capture of the ship.
The crow’s-nest was rigged among the topmost branches of the highest tree on the islet, the view obtainable from it was very extensive, embracing an arc of the horizon of nearly one hundred and eighty degrees, which included, on my far right, the mouth of the river, some twenty miles distant, and a few miles of the offing beyond, while stretching away to the left of that point, toward the southward and eastward, could be traced the entire course of the river as far as the native town of Olomba, and thence onward to the Camma Lagoon, while the near and middle distance was occupied by the waters of the N’Chongo Chine Lagoon, with—in the present instance—the boat flotilla carrying on under a heavy press of canvas to fetch the passage giving access to the river.
I watched these for some time, observing with interest the gallant manner in which the captain’s gig, under a spread of canvas that was manifestly too much for her in the roaring sea-breeze that was now blowing, struggled along and contrived to still retain the lead of the bigger and more powerful boats; and then I began to search the river for signs of the returning ship, for I calculated that by this time she must have arrived at her destination and discovered the destruction of the factory; so it was a question what the skipper of her would do upon making the discovery. That she was not in the Camma Lagoon was pretty evident, for almost the whole expanse of that sheet of water was in full view from my look-out, and I could scarcely have failed to see her, had she been there; I therefore carefully inspected the course of the river more toward Olomba, and presently I caught a glimpse of her upper canvas sliding along past the belt of mangroves and bush that bordered the river. She was beating down against the sea-breeze, with a strong current under her lee bow hawsing her up to windward, and was making very rapid progress.
Then I allowed my glances to return to the boats, and wondered whether those in them could see the ship. I came to the conclusion that they could not, being by this time too far over toward the other side of the lagoon, and consequently too close in to the mangroves to be able to see over them. I now most ardently wished that I had thought of arranging to display a signal warning them of the approach of the ship, for it would be a piece of information very useful for them to possess under the existing circumstances; but I had not, so there was no use in worrying about it. And even as I came to this conclusion the gig, still leading, disappeared within the narrow channel giving access to the river, and was quickly followed by the other boats, until the whole had vanished.
And now I could but guess what was happening in the channel, and watch the movements of the ship. By the time that the last of the boats had disappeared, and I was free to again direct my attention to the larger craft, she had worked down the river as far as the entrance of the creek giving access to Olomba; and when she next hove about I soon saw, by the length of time that she was holding on the same tack, that she was making a long “leg” down the main channel of the river. But she still had some ten miles of river to traverse before she would reach the spot at which it had been arranged that the boats should lie in ambush for her; and, fast as she was travelling, I estimated that it would take her at least an hour to cover that distance. I therefore drew out my watch, noted the time, and then set myself patiently to await the course of events, keenly watching her movements meanwhile. I noticed that, thanks to the exquisite cut of her canvas, she was looking well up into the wind, and I thought it possible that, with this advantage, she might perhaps reach the spot where the boats were awaiting her, without breaking tacks, which would be an advantage for our people, for it would throw her so close to the place of ambush that it would cause the attack almost to take the form of a surprise. And so it did, as I afterward learned; for when at length her skipper was compelled to put his helm down and go about, in order to avoid grounding on the mud of the eastern bank of the river, the ship was in the very mouth of the creek wherein our boats were lurking; and while the ship was in stays, and all hands of her crew were busily engaged in tending the tacks, sheets, and braces, our people dashed alongside and took her almost without striking a blow.