I could only bow to this polite speech, and say that I was ready to attend him on board his ship. The French seamen, however, did not seem inclined to treat us with much ceremony, and several who came on board rummaged about in every direction to pick up whatever they could find.
With a heavy heart I left the Dolphin, and was soon transferred to the deck of the French frigate. The squadron to which I had become a prize consisted of the Dédaigneuse and Chermente, both of thirty-two guns, the Active of twenty-eight, and the Providence privateer, which with the Active they had taken the day before. I cannot say much for the discipline of the French frigate; for it appeared to me that the crew were very much inclined to be insubordinate, in consequence of which the officers had to exercise a considerable amount of severity in keeping them under necessary discipline.
It was a bitter pill I was compelled to swallow. For ten long years I had been serving my country incessantly as midshipman and master’s mate, and now at the very moment when I felt sure that I was about to emerge from the subordinate rank of a petty officer, and to obtain my commission as a lieutenant, no longer to be subject to the midnight calls of quartermasters and the unnumbered snubs which patient midshipmen from their superiors take, I found all my hopes of my promotion dashed to the ground, and myself an unhappy prisoner of war.
I had, however, plenty of companions to share my misfortune; on board the two French frigates were most of the officers and crew of the Active, as well as of the privateer. Scarcely had I stepped on board than who should I see walking the deck in melancholy mood but my old friend and messmate Delisle, and by his side was Paddy O’Driscoll. How changed had soon become the light-hearted, jovial midshipman! The feeling of captivity was weighing heavily on his spirits. Indeed, what is there more galling to an officer than to see the ship to which he lately belonged in the hands of his enemies, and himself compelled to submit to any commands they may choose to issue? They both, as they turned in their walk, started at seeing me; for of course they did not know that I was on board the vessel just captured. They came forward and shook hands warmly.
“I cannot welcome you on board this craft, my dear Hurry,” said Delisle, “though under other circumstances I should have been truly glad to fall in with you.”
“Bad luck to the day when we fell into the power of the Frenchmen!” exclaimed O’Driscoll. “And to think that an Irishman, or the son of an Irishman maybe, should be their captain makes matters worse. I’m ashamed of my countryman, that I am, except that to be sure he has behaved like a gentleman to us since we came on board, and so have all his officers.”
“What more could we expect?” said I. “He did but his duty in capturing us: perhaps before long the tables may be turned, you know. There’s a larger squadron of our ships not far-off, and I don’t give up all hopes that these ships may fall in with them.”
My two friends pricked up their ears at what I told them, though I myself was very far from sanguine about the two squadrons meeting. Should they meet I had no doubt which would prove victorious. We of course did not express our hopes to our captors, but we kept a constant look-out for the British squadron. Not a sail, however, appeared, our hopes of obtaining our freedom grew less and less, and on the 11th of the month sunk to zero when we entered the harbour of Cape François. We found there the French frigate Concorde and the late British frigate Minerva which she had captured. There were also several sail of French Saint Domingo ships. In my hurry and annoyance on quitting the Dolphin I discovered that I had left behind me my chest of clothes. They were not of any great value, though, as I much wanted them, they were so to me. I therefore requested Captain McNamara to send for them. He at once politely complied with my wish, but the midshipman he sent soon returned with the unpleasant information that the chest was in the cabin, but was empty. It appeared that after the Chermente’s boat had left the Dolphin, the people of the Dédaigneuse had boarded her, and plundered her of everything of value. When Captain McNamara heard of this, he instantly sent on board that ship, and endeavoured to recover my property; but all his trouble was in vain. The French seamen were far too knowing to give up anything they had once got possession of, and after a good deal of trouble I was finally compelled to be content with my loss, as I saw that there was no probability of recovering my property.
On the 14th my brother-officers lately belonging to the Active and I were politely informed that we were to be conducted on shore to give our parole that we would not attempt to make our escape. After a short consultation, we all agreed that, although to get away from the lion’s jaws into which we had fallen was not altogether impossible, it was very unlikely that we should succeed, and that by not giving our parole we should be subject to a vast deal of annoyance, it was wiser at once to give it, and to wait patiently till we were exchanged. Constant confinement in a prison in the West Indies, or on board a guard-ship in harbour, it was suggested was very likely to release us; but it would be into another world, to which we had just then no inclination to go if we could help it. We were received on shore by a guard of ill-favoured blacks—“regular blackguards,” as O’Driscoll observed—between whom we were conducted to the residence of his Excellency Governor D’Argu. We were kept waiting for some time in a balcony which ran round the house, subject to the inspection and remarks of a number of black and brown urchins, who made us feel some of the bitters of captivity by jeering and pointing at us, while we had not even the power to drive them away. At length an officer came into the balcony and asked us into a large room, furnished only with mats, a few chairs, and some marble tables, on which stood some red earthenware jars, full of water, and some decanters of claret, looking very cool and pleasant. The great man was seated at a table at one end of the room. He received us, I thought, at first very grumpily. He did not understand English, but I recognised the polite officer who had boarded the Dolphin when I was captured, and who appeared to be there in the capacity of an interpreter. The governor enquired our respective ranks. I fully expected to be classed among the midshipmen, and to receive my pay and treatment accordingly; but I fortunately had in my pocket the appointment given me by Sir Peter Parker as acting-lieutenant of the Camel. I bethought me of exhibiting it, and, much to my satisfaction, it was acknowledged, and I was told that I should be treated in all respects as a lieutenant, especially as I had been in command of a vessel when captured. I was surprised indeed to find a considerable sense of justice in all the proceedings of our captors at this time. Perhaps the bitter feeling they afterwards entertained for the English, when they had sustained numberless defeats, had not then sprung up. My friend, the second captain of the Chermente, having explained to us the alternative to which we should be subject if we refused to pledge our words of honour, told us that we should be at liberty to go on shore whenever we liked, and to walk about within a distance of a mile from the shore. Some of us complained of the narrowness of the circle to which we were confined. The governor looked quietly up, and remarked that we might consider ourselves fortunate that it was no narrower. The observation was interpreted for our benefit, and no further remark was made on the subject. We all went through the ceremony required of us, and then, without loss of time, were once more marched down to the boats and conveyed on board the Chermente, where all the rest of the prisoners were collected. Most of the men were sent away in a cartel. Nol Grampus parted from me with great reluctance, but when Tom Rockets was told he must go, he turned round towards me and exclaimed—
“Mr Hurry, sir, do you want to part with me? I’ve sailed with you since I was a boy, and, come foul weather or fair, if I have my will I’ll follow you still. Just tell these mounseers that you want a servant to tend on you, and that you can’t do without me, and then maybe they’ll let me stay.”