Hurricane Hurry

by William Henry Giles Kingston

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

  OUR QUARTERS AT OU TROU.--MY ASTHMATIC COMPANION.--ILLNESS AND DEATH OFCAPTAIN WILLIAMS.--THE MELANCHOLY BURIAL-GROUND.--TRY TO KILL TIME, BUTIT KILLS MOST OF MY COMPANIONS.--STARTLING NEWS.--LIFE IN THE VILLAGE.--OUR CONDITION BECOMES WORSE.--DEATH OF MORE OF MY COMPANIONS.--ORDERSFOR OUR RELEASE ARRIVE.

  Our mansion at Ou Trou consisted of three rooms, for which theliberal-minded copper-coloured owner insisted on our paying nineteendollars a month. This was to serve as the habitation of twenty officersranking as lieutenants. The midshipmen had another house appropriatedto them of much the same character. Ours had out-houses connected withit, rather more extensive than the building itself, and as it wasimpossible for us all to stowaway in the house, especially in such aclimate as that of Saint Domingo, we came to the resolution of drawinglots to determine who should occupy the outer buildings. An inspectionof a comfortable barn in England will give no idea of these unattractiveedifices. To increase their undesirableness as abodes for men, most ofthem were already occupied by mules or horses or cows or donkeys. Whenwe gave signs of our intention to dispossess them, the owner assertedthat we had no power to do so; they were the first tenants, and had theright of occupation in their favour.

  "Now, gentlemen, are you all ready?" exclaimed the senior officerpresent; "we must settle this important matter. Four persons in eachroom is as many as they can possibly contain, the remainder must abideby the lot which falls to them. Two in the stable where the old horsenow lives, two in the cow-shed, two in the tumble-down barn, and two inthe large stable, where the mules and donkeys have till lately heldtheir revels."

  This last edifice was in tolerable repair, and, provided its four-leggedinhabitants were turned out, we considered would make a very tolerableabode. One after the other of us drew lots. Lieutenant Manby of theMinerva found himself the occupier of the shed with the old horse, and Iwas beginning to hope that I might obtain a berth in the house, when, loand behold! I found that I was destined to share my abode with him. Hewas, as everybody who knew him would agree, a first-rate excellentfellow, so with regard to my human companion I had reason to considermyself fortunate; but the old horse, with the thermometer often at ahundred, was a considerable drawback to any comfort we might hope tofind in our abode. Our landlord probably suspected that we should turnhim out, so the very first night that we retired to our new abode thefellow made his appearance and told us to remove him at our peril.

  "But the horse may eat us!" urged Manby.

  "More likely that you will eat the horse," answered the Frenchman, whowas a bit of a naturalist. "He is graminivorous; you are carnivorous.He can't eat you, but you can him."

  "He may bite, though!" I suggested.

  "No, he has no teeth; he is too old for that," replied the Frenchman,laughing.

  "Ah! but his odour; that isn't pleasant to delicate olfactories," Iobserved humbly.

  "Oh, that's nothing when you are accustomed to it," replied the tyrant,grinning from ear to ear. "You are too particular. Just let him takehis side of the building, and do you take the other, and you will becompletely at your ease."

  As it was useless arguing with so pertinacious a disputant we werecompelled humbly to submit. The horse had one stall--we took possessionof the other. To make ourselves as comfortable as circumstances wouldallow, we collected all the hay and straw and reeds, so as to form athick layer of dry materials between our bodies and the damp ground--fordamp it was, in spite of the heat of the climate. It was too late inthe day for us to attempt more, and, weary in mind and body, we climbedup into our nests, and were soon asleep. I was awoke by the wheezingand coughing of the asthmatic old horse, and, looking up, I saw whatappeared to me an extraordinary phenomenon. Suddenly the air around uswas filled with bright sparkles of light. Now they flashed on one side,now on the other; now the whole space above our heads was illuminated;then all was darkness; then the lights--thousands of them there appearedto be--burst forth once again, more brilliantly than ever. I could nothelp rousing up Manby, to ask him what he thought about the matter.

  "The matter, Hurry!" he answered, yawning; "why, that our stable standsin a particularly damp situation, and that the place is full offire-flies. You'll hear frogs croaking before long, and see great bigwater-snakes crawling about, and reptiles of all sorts. The snakes,they tell me, are harmless; but it is not pleasant to awake and find oneencircling one's neck. However, we shall soon get accustomed to them,so people say, and that's a comfort. I don't know whether it ispleasanter to be asleep or awake. Just now, when you roused me up, Iwas dreaming that I was a horse, and that ugly copper-skinned landlordof ours was trying to put a saddle on my back to take a long ride, but Iwould not let him, and so he was thrashing me unmercifully. I dare sayhe would treat his beast much in the same way if left to himself."

  "Do not let us be talking of our dreams. Our waking thoughts aresufficiently unpleasant," I observed.

  After a time we managed to go to sleep again, but for some weeksscarcely a night passed without our being disturbed by unusual noises orby the visits of snakes or reptiles of some sort. Once we were invadedby a whole army of land-crabs, which were passing across the island, andit was some time before we could persuade them to turn aside from ourdoor. Many paid the penalty of their temerity with their lives, andwere cooked next morning for breakfast. By-the-bye, in the cookingdepartment we were at first sadly deficient, but from the instruction wereceived from some of our French masters, we soon became great adepts inthe art, and were independent of any help. One reason why we did notsucceed at first was the scanty supply of food with which we werefurnished. The Frenchmen, however, showed us where we might go out intothe woods near the village, and gather vegetables and roots and nuts ofall sorts for ourselves. After that we were never in want of the barenecessaries of life. We received an allowance from the FrenchGovernment for our subsistence. The lieutenants received threeshillings a day; the purser, master and surgeons only two; and themidshipmen but one shilling; on which, poor fellows, it was scarcelypossible for them to exist. The captains were allowed more, I believe,and had a house found them some little way from Ou Trou, where they wereable to live in somewhat less discomfort than we did. They used,however, their best exertions to lessen the inconveniences we weredoomed to suffer; but the authorities paid but little attention to theirrepresentations. The residence hired by the midshipmen was even smallerand in a more dilapidated condition than ours, and from the smallness oftheir allowance, considering that their appetites were fully as good asours, they were truly very badly off, poor fellows. We of thelieutenant's rank accordingly consulted together, and agreed to have ourmess in common for them and for ourselves. The midshipmen gratefullyaccepted our offer, and each of us threw his pay into a common stock andappointed two caterers to make the necessary arrangements and tocontract with one of the copper-coloured French shopkeepers to supply uswith breakfast and dinner and to do our washing. These arrangementsbeing made, we flattered ourselves that all would go on swimmingly.Certainly our provisions were better and more abundant than we hadexpected; but we fancied that we had fallen in with a liberal-mindedman, who was anxious to treat us well. We had a dreary time of it,however. Day after day passed away much in the same way. We had noshooting or fishing--no musical instruments--so that we had not evenmusic to relieve the monotony of our existence. We had but few booksalso; some of us read them; but, generally speaking, under the relaxinginfluence of the climate, we felt very little inclined for any literarypursuit. A few games were invented which served to kill time, butkilling time is not a pleasant or inspiriting occupation, especiallywhen a man reflects that time is sure to kill him in the end. We walkedabout the neighbourhood of our dreary abode as far as we were allowed togo, but we soon got weary of the negro huts, and the palm-trees and therice fields and the coffee plantations, and the cocoa-nuts and plantainsand bananas, and the monkeys and opossums and racoons, and parrots andhumming-birds. I dare say, if we had no
t been prisoners and compelled,as it were, to see the wonderful productions of animal and vegetablelife, we should have been highly interested in them--at least, we oughtto have been. One or two of our surgeons, who had a little turn fornatural history, contrived to pass their time by collecting specimens,and examining into the nature and habits of the animals which aboundedin the country; but naval officers, especially in those days, did nottrouble their heads much about such matters, and were somewhat inclinedto look down upon those who did. We talked of our prospects--they weregloomy enough; we tried sometimes to sing, but for that we had not muchspirits; and so the days passed away. It would have been surprising,even in a healthy climate, if disease had not attacked us under similarcircumstances. For some time it stood aloof, but it came at last, andmade ample amends for its delay by its violence. We had been about amonth at Ou Trou, when one day we were all seated at dinner in a sort ofcourtyard, which being in shade served us as our mess-room anddrawing-room, unless the weather was bad, when we had to retire into ourhot, stifling little house. We were all in tolerably fair spirits thatday. O'Driscoll had been telling some of his good stories, more thanone song had been sung, and jokes were flying about, far more than wasusually the case. There were a few absentees in consequence ofsickness, and we heard also that Captain Williams, lately commanding theActive, was ill. Poor man! he severely felt the loss of his ship,though, having been compelled to yield to a vastly superior force, noblame was attached to him. His spirits, it was said, had never risenagain since he was taken prisoner, and he was thus but ill able tocombat with the baneful effects of the climate and the irksomeness ofimprisonment. Just then, however, few of our party were thinking aboutanything but the present moment and the unusually good dinner we hadbeen enjoying, when who should make his appearance near the head of thetable but Monsieur Roquion our purveyor, with a smiling countenance anda long bill in his hand.

  Our caterers inquired why he had come.

  "For to present my litte _compte_ to you, gentilmen," he answered, forhe indulged occasionally in a few words of English, especially when hewanted to say anything very disagreeable.

  One of the caterers took the bill, and we saw them both looking over ittogether, and pulling wonderfully long faces.

  "What is the matter?" asked Delisle. "Anything wrong with the account?Let us know the worst. It cannot be very bad, I hope."

  "Only our excellent friend here has brought us in a charge of a hundreddollars more than we expected to have to pay, or than we ought to pay,"was the answer.

  "Never mind; we'll contest it, and the fellow will have to go withoutthe money, I hope."

  Monsieur Roquion understood the remark, for he grinned widely from earto ear.

  "Go and get us a proper account, Master Yellow-face," said our chiefcaterer. "This little bill of yours is too much by half."

  I don't know if the worthy understood what was said, but he refused totake back the account, and, after grinning at us a little longer, tookhis departure.

  We finished our dinner without much concern about Monsieur Roquion andhis bill; but we had unfortunately come to the end of our stock of wineand tea, and a few other luxuries, and where to obtain them except fromMonsieur Roquion was a puzzle. The next morning we determined to try,so we went to his shop to order what we wanted; but he instantly met uswith a hint that "_Le petit compte_ must first be settled."

  We appealed to the commandant--a personage of whom I have not hithertospoken, because I had nothing to say in his favour, but very much to thecontrary. He replied that the demand was a just one. We suspected thathe was to come in for his share of the spoil. We at length got angry,and said that we were cheated and would not pay. Thereat he grinnedbroadly, and informed us that it was his duty to see justice done toMonsieur Roquion, and that he should stop a portion of our allowancestill the debt was paid. We protested loudly against this decision; buthe only grinned the more, and with a bland smile informed us that mightmade right, and that we might take what course we liked.

  We could do nothing but submit; and the next pay-day we found that hehad determined to stop half our allowance. So we found ourselvesreduced to eighteen-pence a day, while the poor midshipmen had onlysixpence--a sum on which they could barely exist. We did our best tohelp them out of our own pittance; but to all of us it was like fallingfrom affluence to penury. Misfortunes, it is said, never come alone.Certainly at that time we experienced plenty of them. We were allsitting together discussing what was best under our circumstances to bedone, when Delisle, who had gone to see Captain Williams, came back withthe report that he was much worse, and wished to see his son, who was amidshipman, and had been living with the others. Delisle went for theboy; and as he passed by, on his return, I saw that he looked especiallysad. That evening notice was brought us that Captain Williams was dead,and his poor young midshipman son was left an orphan; and a prisoner inthat far-off pestiferous land. Delisle brought the boy back with him,and with all the kindness of his heart endeavoured to console him.

  In that climate decomposition follows death so rapidly that, almostbefore the human form is cold, it is necessary to commit it to thegrave. We agreed, therefore, that early next morning we would all goand pay the last respects to the late unfortunate captain of the Active.Accordingly, snatching a hasty breakfast of dry bread and milk--forthat was all the food the present low state of our finances would allowus to indulge in--we sallied forth, taking poor little Williams with us,whom we intended should act as chief mourner. When we arrived at thehouse, and went into the room where Delisle had last seen the body, itwas no longer there. We searched about, but nowhere could we see it.In another room we found Captain Stott, late of the Minerva. Hishealth, like that of his brother captain, had given way, and he lookedvery ill and wretched.

  We told him that we had come to assist in burying poor Captain Williams.

  "You have come, then, too late, gentlemen," he answered with a deepsigh. "Two ill-conditioned negroes came this morning with a guard ofthree or four soldiers, and informed me that they had come to remove thebody. I protested vehemently, and, had I possessed force, would haveprevented them, but it was in vain. The wretches, with taunts andsneers at our being heretics and unworthy of Christian burial, carriedaway the body of my friend and brother-officer, and, I conclude, havethrown him into the ground in some out-of-the-way place."

  Captain Stott was too ill, or he would have followed the barbarians inspite of the soldiers. Two or three other people tried to do so, butwere driven back with angry threats, and at last gave up the attempt.We were very indignant when we heard this, and resolved at once to goand try and find out where the wretches had buried the captain. Weascertained the direction they had taken and pursued them. We shouldsoon have been at fault in that trackless part of the country, but wefell in with a little negro boy to whom I had been kind on more than oneoccasion, and he told us that he had followed the men at a distance, andundertook to show us the spot where our countryman had been buried. Itwas not far-off, and when we reached it our indignation became greaterthan ever. The authorities had evidently studied how they could mostinsult and annoy us.

  In a piece of waste ground where offal and rubbish was cast, and wherethe bodies of the few malefactors who were ever brought to justice, aswell as those of dogs and other animals, were deposited, they hadordered our poor friend to be interred. He had been placed there,fastened up in a piece of canvas, without a coffin and without ceremonyof any sort. We stood with mournful countenances and with hearts fullof bitterness and indignation over the foul spot, discussing amongourselves whether we ought not to dig up the body and carry it to thechurchyard of Ou Trou, there to bury it among others who at all eventshad called themselves Christians. Our intentions must have beensuspected, for in a few minutes a guard of soldiers made theirappearance, and, threatening us with their pikes or halberds, made usdesist. We then determined to go at once to the commandant. Hereceived us with a look of haughty contempt. He remarked tha
t ourcountryman was a heretic--that the priests considered that he had diedout of the pale of their true Church like a dog, and that like a dog hemust be buried.

  "Does the holy religion of Christ teach you thus to treat your enemies?"exclaimed Delisle, indignantly. "We are Christians, as you callyourselves, and have, as such, a right to Christian burial."

  "I know nothing about that matter," answered the commandant. "Thepriests say that you are not, that you are cut off from the only trueChurch, and are thus condemned to everlasting punishment. This beingthe case--and I am bound to believe it--what matters it where yourbodies are placed?"

  Such was the tenor of the reply we received from an officer holding acommission under the government of a nation which prided itself on beingthe most enlightened and civilised in the world.

  Though in France the outward signs of religion were still adhered to,the _savants_ and _literati_ were already paving the way by their falsephilosophy for that terrific outbreak of popular fury which delugedtheir country in blood, and well-nigh rooted out all that was noble andgood and worthy in the land. At this time in Saint Domingo, andprobably in the other French dependencies, there was an ostentatiousshow of religion which was sadly belied by the manners and customs ofthe people. At all events, a person bearing his Britannic Majesty'scommission was entitled, as a prisoner of war according to the law ofnations, to all the respect due to his rank as an officer and agentleman.

  We returned to our home, wondering who next among us would be carriedoff to be put into that revolting receptacle of the dead. We had nowseriously to turn it in our minds how we should be able to exist. Abright idea struck me--I would become a gardener. There was aconsiderable portion of ground attached to our mansion. I had had somelittle experience before in my life; others also knew something aboutthe art, and so we hoped that our united stock of knowledge wouldproduce us a good supply of vegetables. We had unfortunately but littlemoney to purchase tools, or seeds or plants, but we did not disdain toturn beggars. We borrowed what tools we could, and manufactured spadesand hoes and rakes out of wood. They were not very neat, but theyanswered our purpose. Seeds cost but very little; many were given us,others we bought. The poor unsophisticated, ignorant blacks were verykind-hearted, and gave us all they could spare. Thus our garden becameour greatest source of amusement, and at the same time a most profitableemployment.

  Often for days together we had no other food but that which our gardenproduced. We had yam, cassava, choco, ochro, tomatoes, Indian kale,Lima beans, potatoes, peas, beans, calalue, beet-root, artichokes,cucumbers, carrots, parsnips, radishes, celery and salads of all sorts;nor must I forget the magnificent cabbage-trees some two hundred feethigh--not that we planted them, by-the-bye--or the fruits, thecocoa-nut, plantain, banana, the alligator pear, the cashew, papaw,custard apples, and others too numerous to mention; the recollection ofwhich even now makes my mouth water, as it did sometimes then, when wesaw but could not obtain them. If it had not been for our garden Ibelieve that we should one and all of us have succumbed to that fellclimate. In vain we endeavoured to learn how the war was going on. Nonews was ever allowed to reach us but what was of the most dishearteningnature, and Monsieur Roquion always contrived to bring it with a grin onhis countenance which we knew meant mischief, though we could not makeup our minds to believe him or not. One day he came in with a smile onhis countenance, and shrugging his shoulders--

  "Very sorry for you, as we do not here benefit by your loss," heremarked, endeavouring to put on a look of perfect sincerity. "Youhave, undoubtedly, heard the sad news. Your brave Admiral Keppel hasbeen defeated in the channel. Most of his ships have been sunk ortaken, and he himself has been captured and is a prisoner in France."

  Days and days passed away and we heard no more, and though we used everyexertion to discover the truth, no one we met could contradict it. Nextwe heard that the successful French fleet had pursued Admiral Byron onhis voyage to America, had brought him to action and completelydispersed and destroyed his fleet. We daily talked the matter overamong ourselves. We could scarcely believe that the sun of England hadset so low, and yet what right had we to doubt the truth of what weheard? We had ourselves been captured by the enemy, and might notothers have been equally unfortunate?

  Then we heard that the French had blocked up Lord Howe in New York, andthat the American patriots had triumphed over the British army and wereeverywhere successful. How earnestly we longed for letters which mightinform us of the truth! but our cunning captors took care that we shouldnot get them. Perhaps they themselves believed the reports they spreadamong us. One thing we knew, that in spite of all their reverses, theEnglish were not likely to give in without a desperate and prolongedstruggle, and that, therefore, our captivity might be continued to anindefinite period. I therefore considered if I could not make myselfmore comfortable than I had hitherto been. I called Tom Rockets to mycouncils. He, faithful fellow, had been constantly in attendance on me.

  "To my mind, sir, the best thing to do would be to keep chickens," heobserved with a look of simple earnestness. "My old mother used to keepthem, and I helped her to feed them, and I know all their ways; and ifwe could get a few we could keep them in this here stable of yours, sir,and they would well-nigh feed themselves."

  I thought Tom's proposal so good a one that I forthwith put his planinto execution. I had made several friends among the negroes bystopping and talking to them and exchanging a joke occasionally. Notthat what I said was always very comprehensible to them, nor were theirreplies to me, but they understood my signs as I did theirs, so that wegot on very well.

  "Now, Tom," said I, "we will go out and buy these same chickens. Youknow a laying hen from an old cock, I suppose?"

  "Lord love ye, yes, sir," was Tom's answer, with a grin. "And if so beye wants any of the rhino, I've saved three dollars, which will go farto buy them; and you know, Mr Hurry, sir, it will be an honour andpleasure to me if you will take them. I've no use for them, and may be,if they stop burning in my pocket, I shall only drink them up some day."

  I thought this too probable, but still I was unwilling to take thehonest, generous-hearted fellow's money. I had myself scraped togethera couple of dollars, with which I expected to be able to purchase a cockand five or six fowls, and I thought that would be enough. Tom and Iaccordingly set out on our expedition, with our dollars in our pockets.Before long we reached the hut of an old negro and his wife, where I hadseen some good-looking fowls. Looking about, however, we saw none ofthem. As we were going away old Quasho made his appearance, followed byQuashie, his better half. In vain, however, did we tell them we wantedsome fowls; I had forgotten the French word, and they did not understandus.

  "I think as how I can make them know what we wants, sir," said Tom andhe began crowing away at the top of his voice; then he cackled mostlustily and began running about as a hen does before she begins to layan egg, and finally, having provided himself with a round stone, heproduced it as if he had just deposited it in a nest. Then he pulledout one of his dollars and held it up before them. Quasho and Quashieclapped their hands with delight at the significance of the action, andaway they scuttled into the woods, soon returning with a couple of hens.

  "Bons, bons!" cried Tom, taking them, but not giving up the coin. Againhe crowed and again he cackled, and gave the old couple a shove tosignify that they were to go off and bring more fowls. It did not suitthem, it appeared, to comprehend what he wanted, but Tom was not to bedone, so at last Quasho exclaimed--

  "Jiggigery, niggery, hop," or some words which so sounded, and awayscuttled the old lady, bringing back a couple more hens.

  Tom, having secured them by the legs under his arm, allowing them topeck away at his back, attempted the same manoeuvre, but the old peopleput on such a look of dull stolidity that I was certain they would giveno more fowls for the dollar. I told him, therefore, to give up thedollar, and we continued on our way to another hut, where, for anotherdollar, we got the same
number of fowls. Three dollars were thusexpended, and, with our newly-acquired farm produce, we returned intriumph to my stable.

  Manby was highly amused at the notion of my turning egg and chickenmerchant, which I told him it was my intention to do. In that countryfood of all sorts for my fowls was easily procured, so I had nodifficulty in collecting an ample supply. This became one of my chiefoccupations. Tom Rockets and I used to go out into the woods with bags,and come back loaded with nuts and seeds and roots for my pets. Theconsequence of their being thus amply supplied with provisions was thatthey quickly took to laying eggs, and thus in a short time I had four orfive eggs every morning. Some of these Tom and I ate, and others wesold or exchanged for meat. They, with the produce of our kitchengarden, enabled us to be pretty well independent of the provisionsfurnished us by the authorities. Thus, what I at first thought amisfortune turned out to be a real benefit, because the necessity ofprocuring food made me exert myself, and afforded me an occupation ofinterest. I gave them all names, and I knew each of them, and they soonlearned to know me and to come at my call. Whichever I summoned cameflapping up to me, cackling or crowing as the case might be, whethercock or hen. I was rather proud of the nickname which my messmates gaveme of "the farmer." Often, when they were almost starving after ourmess was broken up, I was able to supply myself and Tom with acomfortable breakfast and dinner. Never, indeed, were dollars betterexpended. I have already mentioned the various reports of disasters tothe British arms, both by sea and land, which reached us from time totime. Soon after I got my fowls we were told, as an undoubted fact,that Jersey and Guernsey had been taken by surprise, and that every man,woman, and child in them had been destroyed on account of their loyaltyto England; but the most terrific and heart-rending news came at last.It was that England herself had been invaded; that the enemy, havinggained a secure footing in the country, had won three or four pitchedbattles, and had finally taken London, after a terrific resistance, whenhalf the population were slain. Probably, under other circumstances, weshould not have believed this last report unless it had been fullyauthenticated, though, unguarded as the shores of England at that timewere, we knew that it was possible; but, dispirited and ill as many ofus were, we were fully prepared to give credence to any story even of aless probable character. For two or three weeks we were left in themost dreadful state of doubt and uncertainty as to whether England stillexisted or not as an independent nation. Some of us fully believed thatliberty no longer was to be found except in the highlands of Scotlandand among the mountains of Wales.

  The first gleam which banished these dreadful surmises was theannouncement which reached us on the 5th of November, that CaptainPhilips, of the 60th Regiment, and Mr Rankin, a passenger in theMinerva, were forthwith to be set at liberty. They received permissionto go at once to Jamaica under a flag of truce.

  We could scarcely believe this information when we heard it, and it wasonly when we saw them setting off with joyful countenances, bidding usall farewell, that we were convinced of its truth. It also assured usthat the various accounts we had from time to time heard of thedisasters which had befallen the power of Great Britain were verycontrary to what was the case. The invasion of England had long been afavourite scheme of the French, and I thought then, as I have since,that some ambitious general or sovereign will find it one of the verybest cards he can possibly play to make the attempt for the purpose ofgaining supreme power in the country, or of securing the position he maybefore have obtained.

  Death was now busy among us. On the 20th of November Captain Stott'ssteward died--a faithful fellow, who had willingly followed his masterinto captivity. Near the village was a wide savannah--an extensiveopen, level space, destitute of trees, and overgrown in most parts witha rank vegetation, and dotted with pools of water, among which snakesand venomous reptiles of all sorts delighted to roam. Here the poor manwas carried by a couple of blacks and cast into a hole they dug for thepurpose.

  Very soon after this event, which I find recorded in my journal, I mostunexpectedly received a box containing linen and clothes, sent me by afriend at Jamaica. In the pockets of some of the clothes I discovered apacket of letters. Two of them were from home. What a thousandthoughts and feelings and regrets did their contents conjure up! Many,many months had passed away since I had heard from any of my relationsand friends in Old England, and I had begun almost to fancy that I wasforgotten, and should never receive any more letters. I read these overand over again, and then I went in search of Delisle, that I might havethe pleasure of reading them to him. He and I were like brothers, andlike a brother he entered into all my feelings, and was almost as muchinterested in the contents of my letters as I was myself. One of themwas from my sister Lucy--a sweet, good, pretty girl. I described her tohim, and, poor fellow, from my portrait, (I am sure it was notoverdrawn, though), he fell in love with her. He was ever afterwardstalking of her, and constantly asking to see her letters, and I agreedto introduce him when we got home, whenever that might be, and hepromised, if she would have him, to marry her. So it was settledbetween us. No one will find fault with him or me for what we did.

  I must not forget another important letter from the friend who sent thebox. In it he told me that the admiral had most kindly kept a vacancyopen for me as a lieutenant on board the Ostrich, but at last, when hecould not arrange my exchange, he had been reluctantly compelled to fillit up. This, of course, added to my annoyance at having been madeprisoner. The parcel of clothes was very valuable, for I found thatthey would fetch a high price in the place, and as in that warm climatea very small supply was sufficient, I resolved on selling the greaterportion of them. This I forthwith did, at a price which enabled me topay all my debts at the hucksters' shops, and gave me a good sumbesides. I thought that it would have been inexhaustible, andaccordingly feasted sumptuously for several weeks, and entertained myfriends freely in my stable, or rather in front of it, where, under theshade of a grove of cocoa-nut trees, I used to spread my board.

  On the 2nd of December, Mr Camel, who had been purser of the Active,and the son of Captain Williams, were sent to Jamaica on their parole ina cartel, but no one else of our party was allowed to leave the place.Reports had just been going about to the effect that we were all to beforthwith exchanged, and therefore, when we found that they were false,an overpowering despondency sprung up among us. To increase the miseryof our condition, a report reached the commandant, invented by somemalicious person, or perhaps by the authorities themselves, to increasethe harsh treatment to which we were subjected, to the effect that wehad formed a plot to set fire to the village, and that, taking advantageof the confusion thus created, we intended endeavouring to make our wayto the sea, and then to seize some small vessel and escape in her toJamaica. It was not likely that a number of officers who had giventheir parole to remain quiet would be guilty of an act so dishonourableas to endeavour to escape. It was, however, believed, and we were inconsequence even more severely treated than before. I say believed, butI should be more correct if I said that the authorities pretended tobelieve it. We had now a guard constantly set over us, and whenever wewent out we were narrowly watched. The food with which we werefurnished was worse than ever, and when we complained of the purveyorsor hucksters the commandant replied that he could not interfere, andthat we must take what was offered us, and be thankful that it was noworse. Often many of our poor fellows had not the bare necessaries oflife, and it was only by great exertion that I was able to procure them,as I have described, for myself and a few of my more intimate friends.I had not supposed that so degenerate a race of Frenchmen existed, forwhen they saw us all rapidly sickening and advancing towards the grave,instead of relaxing their system of tyranny, they only increased theirill-treatment, and made us believe that they really wished to put us todeath by inches.

  On the 4th, poor young Bruce, a midshipman of the Minerva, died, and wasburied in the savannah among many of our countrymen who had alreadyfallen victims to dise
ase. Captain Stott, we heard, was sinking fast,and on the 15th he too succumbed to sickness and, I truly believe, abroken heart. Some of his friends attended him to the last, and a largebody of us went up to keep guard, to prevent his body being carriedaway, as had been the case with Captain Williams.

  As soon as he was dead, we lieutenants carried him to our own house andin the morning we sent a deputation to the commandant, saying, that asCaptain Stott was one of the oldest officers in his Majesty's service,we considered that he ought to be buried with as much form and ceremonyas circumstances would allow in the public cemetery of the place. Ourrequest was, however, peremptorily refused. We all of us, accordingly,assembled in our uniforms, and bore the body of the old captain to thesavannah, where, at a lonely spot, we dug a grave with such implementsas we possessed, and, prayers being said, deposited him in it near hismidshipman and steward.

  There they rest, in that scarcely known locality, free from that troubleand care which has followed many of those who attended them to theirgraves. Some of those were, however, soon to be laid to rest alongsidethem. Perhaps it was through some feeling of humanity that, a few daysafterwards, the son and nephew of Captain Stott--two little fellowsscarcely more than ten years old--were allowed to go to Jamaica undercharge of Mr Varmes, purser of the Minerva. Bartholomew, one of thelieutenants of the same ship, was very ill of the fever. He hadscarcely been able to creep to the burial of his late commander, butstill he had some hopes of recovery. Our medical man had very littleexperience of the nature of the fell disease which was attacking us, sothat those taken ill had but a small chance of getting well.

  I was sitting one day by the side of poor Bartholomew, endeavouring toafford him what consolation I could. Alas! with regard to his worldlyprospects there was little I could offer. I tried to point to higherthings--to the world to come. Unfortunately men do not think enough ofthat till they are on its very threshold. He was expressing a hope thathe should get better, and I entertained the same; suddenly the door ofthe room was thrown open, and Adams, another of the Minerva'slieutenants, rushed into the room with an animated countenance--

  "Cheer up, Bartie, old fellow!" he exclaimed. "An order has justarrived for our release. I have seen it, and we are to set off at oncefor Jamaica."

  "Hurrah!" exclaimed the other lieutenant, lifting himself up in his bed."Then I shall not have to leave my bones in this horrid hole. Hurrah!On, my fine fellows, on!"

  He waved his hand above his head as if he had his sword in it, and wasleading a party of boarders. I heard a rattling sound. I looked at hiscountenance. An awful change had come over it. Before I could evensupport him he fell back in his bed and was dead. Adams and I stood fora moment like persons petrified, so sudden and shocking was the event.We bore him at sunset to our field of the dead in the savannah, andthere the hands of his friends and brother-officers laid him beside thegrave of his late captain. Adams, however, got away and reached Jamaicain safety. Thus ended, in gloom and almost hopeless despondency, that,to us prisoners, ever memorable year of 1778. For what we could tell tothe contrary then, we might have to remain till peace was restored, ortill England succumbed to the enemies gathering round her.

  Proud of our country as we were, and confident of the bravery of hersons, what had we to hope for? Although at sea the ancient supremacy ofour flag had been ably upheld, on shore, either from want of goodgenerals or from our pernicious military system--perhaps from bothcauses combined--no brilliancy had been shed on the British arms;indeed, we only heard of defeats, ill-conducted expeditions, anddisasters of all sorts, which often made our hearts sink to the verydepths of despondency.