He entered the hut and found Will! The whole affair, the arrest, the cachot, and the mysterious note turned out to be Will’s plot, who explained that if he had not divulged the secret of Souville’s first escape-hole when it was known that he had discovered it, he would probably have got a thousand lashes at the triangles, and that to atone for it he had conveyed to the cachot the note which was the means of Tom’s escape.
No time was lost in completely disguising him, and he started. As he passed along the smuggler’s cliff path he heard the guns which proclaimed the escape of a prisoner. At 9 a.m. he passed Kingston, and got to Farlington on the Chichester road. Here he put up at a lodging house, replying to suspicious inquiries that he was from London, bound for an American ship coming from Dover. From here he took coach to Brighton, and in two days was at Dover. At Dover he waited two more days before he could find a neutral ship to take him across, and then quietly smuggled himself on to a Danish brig bound for Calais, and hid under a coil of rope on deck. Whilst here the Admiralty people came on board to search for fugitives, and one of them actually sat on the heap of rope under which he was. The brig sailed, and then, to the astonishment of the master and crew, Tom presented himself. At first the master was disposed to put back and give Tom up, for the penalties were heavy for harbouring escaped prisoners, but the promise of a handsome reward and Tom’s mention of influential friends overcame his scruples and Tom was safely landed.
He went home, got the money, of which he gave 1,000 francs to the skipper, 500 francs to the crew, and 500 to the fisherman who landed him.
Souville now started the privateering business which was to make him famous, and during the years 1806 and 1807 won for his Glaneur a reputation on both sides of the Channel. At Dunkirk he distinguished himself on shore by saving two lives from a runaway carriage which had been upset into the port. He then changed to the Général Paris, and made a number of rich captures, but on November 30, 1808, was captured off Folkestone by two corvettes and a cutter, and found himself on the Assistance prison ship at Portsmouth. On the Assistance he made so many attempts to escape that he was changed to the Crown. Here he met an old shipmate, Captain Havas, of the Furet privateer, but from policy they agreed not to let it be seen that they were friends, and they lost no time in setting to work with saws made of barrel-hoops, and bits of fencing foils for gimlets, to make a hole a square foot in size through the nine inches of the wooden ship’s side, and, to avoid the noise they made being heard, they worked while the English soldiers were scrubbing the decks.
By the beginning of January 1809 the hole was ready. January 9 was a suitable day for this project, being foggy, and the only obstacle was the bitter cold of the water. They had saved up rum, and grease wherewith to rub themselves, and had a compass, a knife, a flask for the rum, and a waterproof fishing-basket to hold a change of clothes. At midnight they opened the hole; Havas slipped out, and Souville followed, but in doing so made a slight noise, but enough to attract the notice of the sentry. They swam away amidst a storm of bullets fired at random in the fog and darkness. Souville was soon caught by one of the boats which at the first alarm had put out from all the hulks. Havas hung on to the rudder of a Portuguese ship under repair, and paused to rest. When all was quiet, he climbed up, boarded the ship, crept down to the hold, got under a basket, and, utterly worn out, fell asleep.
A cabin boy coming for the basket in the morning, at the appearance of a strange man under it was terrified and cried out. Havas rushed up on deck, but at the mouth of the hatchway was met by an English soldier who promptly knocked him down, and he was secured.
The adventurers got a month’s Black Hole, and when they were released found the precautions against escape were stricter than ever. In May 1809 the news came that all the prisoners taken at Guadeloupe were to be exchanged. Havas and Souville determined to profit by the opportunity, and bought two turns of exchange from soldiers, with the idea of getting away as Guadeloupe prisoners. But, in order to pass the sentry it was necessary that they should have the appearance of having served in the tropics, so they had ‘to make themselves up’, with false moustaches and stained faces. This was effected, and at the signal of departure the two adventurers joined the Guadeloupe contingent and were taken ashore. But on the jetty stood Captain Ross, of the Crown, scrutinizing the prisoners.
‘You didn’t expect me here, my man,’ said he to Havas, at the same time taking hold of his moustache, which came off in his hand. ‘Never mind; although I am in duty bound to take you before Commodore Woodriff, I’ll ask him to let you off; if I don’t you’ll sink my ship with your eternal hole-boring through her!’
He meant what he said, for, although somewhat of a martinet (so says the biographer of Souville—Henri Chevalier), he was a good fellow at heart, but Woodriff, who had been in command at Norman Cross in 1797, was of another disposition: ‘un de ces moroses Anglais dont l’air sombre cache un caractère plus dur encore que sévère.’ He refused Ross’s request, and even admonished him for laxity of vigilance, and so our friends were sent back to the Crown, and got another month’s cachot. Then they were separated, Havas being sent to the Suffolk and Tom Souville to the Vengeance. Six uneventful months passed; then the prisoners of the Suffolk and Vengeance were transferred to the San Antonio, and Havas and Souville were re-united, and took into partnership Étienne Thibaut. The commander of the San Antonio was an affable Scot with a soft heart towards his prisoners. He took a fancy to Havas, often chatted with him, and at last engaged him as a French teacher. Captain B. had a pretty wife, ‘belle en tout point, blonde, grande, svelte et gracieuse,’ and a charming little girl, possessing ‘de bonnes joues roses, de grands yeux bleus, et des cheveux dorés à noyer sa tête si un ruban ne les eût captivés sur son cou; enfant pétulante et gaie, fraîche comme une fleur, vive comme un oiseau’.
Havas makes friends with the child, but aims at the favour of the mother. Being a dashing, attractive, sailor-like fellow, he succeeds, and moves her sympathy for his fate. Finally Mrs. B. promises that he shall go with her to a French theatrical performance ashore, as her husband rarely quits the ship except on duty. So they go, one fine spring day, she and Havas, and a Scots Captain R. with them to save appearances, first to the hulk Veteran where they learn that the play, to be acted in Portchester Castle, will be Racine’s Phèdre, and that it will commence at 4 p.m.