Arriving at Plymouth, the gallant young Frenchman became the object of much interest and favour; naval and military officers entertained him, civilians followed suit, and he was given, as he says, "the whole town for his prison"; in other words, he was placed on his parole, and allowed full liberty. Always susceptible to the attractions of women, he found, as he tells us, "une fort jolie marchande"—a sweetly pretty shop-girl, or shop-woman, with whom he formed a close acquaintance, and who was eventually mainly instrumental in procuring his liberty. Pretty girls, as we know, are reputed to be more abundant in Devonshire than in many other parts, and no doubt the Frenchman found her very seductive. It is curious what a diversity of parts this young woman is made to assume among the biographers of Du Guay Trouin. One makes her out just a shop-girl; another says she was "une jeune marchande qui preparait les repas de Duguay"—a young shop-woman who prepared his meals—while Mr. C.B. Norman, on what ground does not appear, calls her a "fair compatriote"—a Frenchwoman, married to a "Devonshire merchant," and has a good deal to say about the way in which she hoodwinked her good husband while she was obtaining information for the young Frenchman when he was in prison; we shall get him there directly. Du Guay Trouin, in his "Mémoires," simply speaks of her as already quoted; and "marchande" certainly does not mean "merchant's wife."
However, there she is, being entertained sometimes by Du Guay Trouin, and no doubt very proud of being the object of his attentions—just a shop-girl, he says; and he ought to know.
This delightful condition of affairs was, however, unexpectedly interrupted, for one fine day there arrived the Prince of Orange, to refit after seeing her colliers safe; and the captain soon recognised, in the prize lying at anchor, the vessel which fired at him under the English flag. He was in a great state of mind, reported the circumstances to the Admiralty, and demanded that Du Guay Trouin should be treated as a pirate. The authorities demurred to this request, but thought it advisable, during their deliberations, that he should not have "the whole town for his prison"; so they put him in gaol, allowing him, however, to order his own food and entertain his friends there. The English officers who took turns on guard at the prison were very glad to dine with him; and "my pretty shop-girl also came very often to pay me a visit."
Too often, apparently, for the peace of mind of a young French refugee officer, doing duty with an English company of soldiers; and he actually came to Du Guay Trouin and begged his good offices to induce the girl to marry him—or, at least, to show him favour. Du Guay Trouin was at first disposed to refuse indignantly, though he apparently wishes to imply that his intimacy with her was quite innocent. It occurred to him, however, that the young soldier's infatuation might be turned to good account.
He would, he said, serve him with all his heart; but he was rather worried in his room, and could not see his way to do much unless he could entertain her in some more open place—the café close to the prison would do very well; she could come there without suspicion, and, if he had but one chance there, he would use all his eloquence with her, and would even arrange that the love-lorn young soldier should spend the rest of the evening with her.
The bait was too strong for his loyalty. Du Guay Trouin, having established an understanding with "his gentle shop-girl," represented to her feelingly that the trial of imprisonment would soon cause him to succumb if she would not have the goodness to assist him to escape; which, of course, she did, first becoming his messenger to a Swedish captain, who sold him a good boat for £35, with sails and oars complete.
The whole scheme came off to admiration. Du Guay Trouin, with the connivance of the impatient lover, who had seen his lady enter the café, left his room and followed, the young officer only imploring him not to keep him long in suspense. "But," says Du Guay Trouin, "I scarcely gave myself time to thank and kiss that wholesome little friend"—he was out at the back, over the wall, and in the company of some of his officers and six stalwart, well-armed Swedish sailors before the French officer had any time to be anxious; and by ten o'clock they were in the boat, sailing by the men-of-war, answering "Fishermen" to the hail of the sentries, and so to sea. They reached the island of Brehat after a rough passage of fifty hours, and, after resting for a while, made their way to St. Malo, where Du Guay Trouin learned that his brother had a fine ship fitting out for him at Rochefort.
Whether the love-sick soldier went to look for "la jolie marchande" and what she said to him are not recorded; but it is to be feared that he experienced a rude awakening.
In his new command, named François, of 48 guns, Du Guay Trouin was soon busy, taking several prizes of considerable value off the coast of Ireland. He was longing, however, for an opportunity of avenging himself for his defeat and capture, and early in the year 1695 he had his wish, encountering a large convoy of vessels laden with huge spars, suitable for masts, etc., bound from North America, under the protection of the Nonsuch, of 48 guns. One of the convoy, the Falcon, was also well armed, carrying 38 guns, according to Du Guay Trouin, and pierced for 72. He calls the Falcon the Boston, and the Nonsuch by the equivalent French name, Sanspareil.
He says that the inhabitants of Boston had had the Falcon built, and loaded with valuable mast-timber and choice skins, as a present to King William III.