The sailor hero

by F. C. Armstrong

Now it unfortunately happened, as the wind increased, that the men who went aloft to reef the Babet’s topsail found the fore topmast had been so very badly injured by a ball from the heavy pivot gun of the Bon-Citoyen, that it required fixing and securing before they could attempt to carry sail up it, and whilst this was doing the Babet was kept away a point or two. On a closer examination it was found necessary to shift the spar altogether, and the corvette was then brought on a wind under her fore course, double-reefed main-topsail, and driver; thus, as the schooner sailed two feet for her one, by sunset she was out of hearing of her gun. Captain O’Loughlin felt not at all uneasy, for, unfortunately, he did not consider himself so near the land as he was. Thus, they had scarcely shifted their fore-topmast and got up another, when the man forward called out, in a loud and alarmed voice—

“Land on the larboard bow.”

And the very next instant the Babet struck the ground with considerable force; but the next moment beat over the tail of a bank, and getting stern way on, her commander instantly ordered her anchor to be let go, and her sails to be furled. This was promptly and well executed, and the Babet at once rode to her anchor. They were then in five fathoms water. This untoward event occurred about an hour after midnight. So exceedingly thick was the weather, accompanied with a continuous drizzling rain, that even at the short distance they were from the land, it was invisible.

Several of the French prisoners were on deck, and they said without hesitation that the Babet had struck on one of the shelving banks on the north-east end of Belleisle; that they were quite aware the vessel would run ashore, but it was no business of theirs; they were only a few hours out from Belleisle themselves when they fell in with the Babet. This statement Captain O’Loughlin felt to be truth. After doing all he could to assuage the alarm of the females, and set a guard over his prisoners, who appeared inclined to be unruly, he ordered the boat to be lowered, and the second mate and a boat’s crew were sent to sound astern of them; but, to their surprise, they came almost immediately upon a rocky shoal, about twenty fathoms from where the ship lay; and, finally, they discovered she was surrounded with rocks, so much so, that it appeared incredible how she got where she was without striking some of them. Where the corvette lay the water was tolerably smooth, though the wind increased rapidly. There was nothing to be done, however, till daylight; for to attempt to extricate her from her extraordinary position at that time was out of the question. They had thirty-four able-bodied prisoners on board, including officers, and fourteen wounded; these Captain O’Loughlin at once determined to put ashore as soon as dawn broke, so that he might not be hampered in either saving the ship or defending himself from any enemy that might attack him. He had but thirty-five men able to work the Babet, including his officers and the surgeon.

As the daylight appeared the fog lifted, the gale increased, but shifted a point or two, so that where the vessel lay the wind blew partly off the shore. It was only an hour’s ebb when he anchored, so that at low water he touched the ground, but no more, and the swell was very trifling.

Before sun-rise the mist and fog had all disappeared, and anxiously every one gazed around them. To their surprise, the first thing that caught their sight was their late antagonist, the Vengeance lugger, lying at anchor, at the back of a low point, not four hundred yards from them. She was still without her main-mast; but the moment the look-out caught sight of the Babet, her cable was cut, and in an instant her fore and mizen lug were set, and she was under weigh. Dropping out from under the land, and getting to a distance, she was hove to, evidently watching the movements of the corvette.

The corvette was not five hundred yards from the shore, and about six miles from the strong town and citadel of Palais, which had some thirty odd years before stood a long siege, and was surrendered to the English on honourable terms, but was given up some few years afterwards.

The Babet’s situation was in truth critical. On every side were ranges of rocks, all visible at low water, with a narrow gut, through which the vessel, singularly enough, had run in. Now, to work out through that narrow passage was quite impossible. It was to be done with a leading wind, certainly; but the gale, though not direct in, would not permit a ship to lead out on one tack, and it blew much too strong to attempt to work through it. Already they could see numbers of persons assembled on the lofty rocks lining the shore. They were just within musket shot of the beach, and Captain O’Loughlin well knew that a party of soldiers would soon arrive from the citadel of Palais, and open fire upon them from the rocks.

He was, however, determined to get rid of his prisoners, and accordingly landed them six at a time; they were very unruly, and swore vehemently that the Babet should never leave that spot in the possession of the English.

Being able now to use all his crew, Captain O’Loughlin resolved to attempt to warp at high water into a berth from whence he might make sail; but the fates appeared against the Babet, for just as her commander was preparing to make his hazardous attempt, the lofty spars of a large ship appeared round the north-east end of Belleisle, and in five minutes more a thirty-six gun frigate, with the tricolour flaunting in the gale, came rapidly into view, and seeing at once the situation of the corvette, taking her for a French ship, she lay to, and commenced hoisting out her boats. As she was doing so, the Vengeance ran up alongside of her, and then the corvette’s real character became known, and immediately one of the boats with a flag of truce pulled in for her.