A Middy in Command: A Tale of the Slave Squadron

by Harry Collingwood

Having received my dismissal from the admiral, I returned to the Francesca, and, summoning the purser, gave him instructions to overhaul his stores and prepare a requisition for everything necessary to complete for a two months’ cruise. Then, sending for the boatswain, gunner, and carpenter, I in like manner instructed them to overhaul the hull, spars, standing and running rigging, and the contents of the magazine, and to report to me all defects or shortage of stores in their respective departments, and, generally, to prepare the little craft in every way for the task that lay before her. Then, there still remaining a couple of hours of daylight, I jumped into the gig again and pulled aboard four vessels that had arrived during the day, for the purpose of enquiring whether any of them had sighted or fallen in with the disabled brig. As was to be expected, I met with no success, but I was not in the least disappointed, for I had anticipated no other result; indeed I calculated that the ordinary slow-sailing merchantman who might perchance fall in with the pirate could scarcely be expected to reach Kingston until at least three or four days after the Francesca. Then, availing myself of the very pressing invitation that I had received from my new friend Mr Todd, I made my way to his house, where I spent a most delightful evening with him and his family. Upon learning that I expected to remain a full week in port, these good people at once proceeded to plan for my benefit a number of pleasure jaunts to places of interest in the neighbourhood; but I was far too profoundly impressed with the importance of the task assigned to me, and the responsibility that rested upon my young shoulders, to avail myself of their very great kindness further than to spend an evening or two with them.

I divided my time pretty evenly between the schooner—personally seeing that no detail was overlooked in preparing her for her important task—and the various craft that arrived in the port from day to day. Keene, eager to assist, undertook to penetrate, in mufti, the lower and more disreputable parts of the town, and to haunt the wharves upon the chance of picking up some small item of information relating to the mysterious brig which might prove of service to us. But all our efforts availed us nothing, for on the eighth day after our arrival we were no better off than we had been at the beginning. I contrived, however, to filch the few hours that were necessary to enable me to go up for my examination, with the result that I passed with flying colours, so the examiners were kind enough to say. My good friend Sir Timothy at once confirmed my acting order and presented me with the commission which bestowed upon me the rank of lieutenant in his Most Gracious Majesty’s navy.

On the evening of the eighth day after our arrival at Port Royal I went ashore to report to the admiral the discouraging fact that I had failed utterly to obtain any information whatever from any of the inward-bound ships relative to the piratical brig, for none of them, apparently, had sighted the craft. Moreover, Jack Keene’s enquiries were practically as unsuccessful as my own; for although he had encountered one or two doubtful characters frequenting the low taverns near the wharves, who seemed to have some knowledge of such a vessel, it was all vague hearsay, and quite valueless. But although we had failed so entirely to obtain any information, the ship’s company had been kept busily at work, with the result that the schooner was now as perfect in every item and particular of hull and equipment as human hands could make her. I therefore wound up my report with the statement that we were ready for sea, and could sail at literally a moment’s notice.

“So much the better,” remarked the admiral, “and, since there is nothing to be gained by further delay, you had better make a start forthwith, so that you may be able to work your way out through the channel and secure an offing before nightfall. Now, have you formed any plans for the conduct of this cruise?”

“Only those of the most general character, sir,” replied I. “According to my reckoning the brig is by this time very nearly, if not quite, at the rendezvous, where she will refit. I fear, therefore, that there is not much likelihood of my falling in with her for some time to come—until she has refitted and is once more at sea, in fact. But, in order that I may not throw away a possible chance, my idea is to stretch out toward the middle of the Caribbean, and, having arrived there, to work to windward over the track that the brig would have to follow if she were making her way toward the head of the Gulf. Then, if I fail to fall in with her, it may be worth our while to overhaul the Grenadines—there must be several small islands among them well adapted as a rendezvous for a pirate, and there is just a possibility that we may find her there. Failing that, I do not see that I can do anything else than work out clear of the islands and haunt the ground where the tracks of the inward- and outward-bound trade meet, since it seems to me that that is the spot where we are most likely to find the brig when she resumes operations.”

“Excellent!” exclaimed the old gentleman, approvingly. “You have thought out the identical scheme that suggested itself to me, and I hope that by following it you will succeed in laying the fellow by the heels. Speak every craft that you may fall in with, make enquiries whenever you have the chance, and perhaps you may be lucky enough to pick up a slaver or two, and so make the cruise a profitable one in a double sense; for if that surmise of yours should happen to be correct, that this pirate brig is the identical craft that stole the slaves from your prize—the Dolores—and afterwards destroyed her, the fellow may have played the trick on other slavers, in which case they will be glad enough to give any information that may lead to his capture. And now the sooner that you are off the better, for you will have none too much daylight in which to work out clear of the shoals. So, good-bye, my lad, and good luck to you! Take care of your ship, your crew, and yourself, and bring the fellow back with you as a prize.”

So saying, with a hearty handshake the old gentleman dismissed me, and a quarter of an hour later the saucy little Francesca, in charge of a pilot, was turning to windward on her way out to the open sea.

The sea breeze lasted us just long enough to enable us to clear the shoals and handsomely gain an offing of about three miles. Then it died away and left us wallowing helplessly in the heavy swell that was running. Meanwhile the sun sank beneath the horizon in one of those blazes of indescribable glory of colour which seem to be peculiar to the West Indies. The darkness closed down upon us like a shutter, and the stars leapt out of the rapidly darkening blue overhead with that soft, lambent, clarity of light which is never beheld save in the tropics. Then, after tumbling about uncomfortably for nearly an hour, we felt the land breeze, and, squaring away before it, soon ran off into the true breeze of the trade wind.

The following three weeks passed uneventfully in carrying out the first part of the programme upon which Sir Timothy and I had agreed, including a very careful but fruitless search of the entire group of the Grenadines, between Grenada and Saint Vincent. After this we proceeded toward the spot which was to be our cruising ground, and called at the little town of Kingstown, in the latter island, for a few hours, in order to replenish our supplies and lay in a stock of fruit.

Thus far we had been favoured with splendid weather, but on the fifth day out from Saint Vincent I observed that the barometer and the wind were falling simultaneously, and by sunset the trade wind had died away to nothing. The western half of the sky looked as though it were on fire, and the horizon in that quarter was piled high with great smears of dusky, smoky-looking cloud, heavily streaked with long splashes of vivid orange and crimson colour. As a spectacle it was magnificent, but the magnificence was gloomy, sombre, and threatening beyond anything that I had ever beheld. Nevertheless, I had seen skies not altogether unlike it before, and my experience had taught me that such gorgeously lurid displays of colour always portended the approach of bad weather, very frequently of the hurricane type. Furthermore, my “Sailing Directions for the West Indies” warned me that we were now in a part of the world which is subject to such terrific outbreaks of atmospheric strife. I therefore resolved to take time by the forelock. Fortunately in such small craft as schooners the amount of work involved in the operation of “snugging-down” is not great, and in less than half an hour we had got our yards and topmasts down on deck and the whole of our canvas snugly stowed, with the exception of the foresail, which, having been close-reefed, remained set, so that we might retain some sort of command over the vessel.