“THREE FISHERMEN SAILED AWAY TO THE WEST.”
No more splendid tribute has ever been paid to a neglected hero than that which appeared in the pages of a popular monthly[93] some years since, over the honoured signature of Robert Browning.
The year 1692 was specially disastrous to France, and a fleet of twenty-two vessels were hotly and closely pursued by the English. The squadron came helter-skelter, “like a crowd of frightened porpoises” with the sharks after them, to St. Malo on the Rance. The pilots who were on board laughed at the bare idea of their great ships entering the rocky passage; and Damfreville, the admiral of the fleet, was seriously thinking of blowing up or burning all his ships, when out stepped in front of all the assembled officers a poor coasting-pilot.
“Are you mad, you Malouins? are you cowards, fools, or rogues?” said he, as he hurriedly and impetuously assured the admiral that he knew every rock and shoal, and could lead the fleet in safely.
“‘Sirs, they know I speak the truth! Sirs, believe me there’s a way!
And if one ship misbehave—
Keel so much as grate the ground,
Why, I’ve nothing but my life—here’s my head!’ cries Hervé Riel.
“Not a minute more to wait,