Kilgorman: A Story of Ireland in 1798
Page 14
CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
THE GUARD-HOUSE AT BREST.
Captain Cochin--for so the commander of the _Arrow_ styled himself,though I always had my doubts whether he had any right to one title orthe other--was too well aware of the value of his cargo to risk it inpursuing his ordinary calling of a pirate on the present voyage. So hestood well out to sea, ostentatiously flying the English flag, andgiving friendly salutes to any chance vessels that came in his course.
"_Parbleu_!" said he, "England owes me one debt for taking the guns awayfrom those who would have used them against her, and selling them to mypoor countrymen, who will use them against one another. But there is nogratitude in England, and if I want payment I must help myself. But notthis voyage--by-and-by."
As for me, the joy I should have felt at finding myself free and at seawas damped by the news of the loss of the _Cigale_, and with it, of myfather and Tim. The hope of seeing Tim again had kept me in heartduring many a trouble and danger, and now I felt more alone than ever.
In the whole world, except Con the dog, there was left me but onefriend; and she, if she ever thought of me, did so as of one below her,and already dead. But that I was young and clung hard to life, I wouldas soon have dropped over the side of the _Arrow_ as anywhere else, andso ended the bad business of my little history.
In a day or two, however, as the wind freshened and the great Atlanticwaves pitched the _Arrow_ like a plaything from one to the other, myspirits began to rise once more, and the cloud on my mind gave waybefore the cheery influence of a seaman's life.
One of the first things I discovered was that I knew far less aboutseamanship than I gave myself credit for. Sailing the _Arrow_ was avery different business from sailing his honour's lumbering tubs acrossLough Swilly, and I had to own that I had a great deal to learn and verylittle to teach before I could call myself a complete sailor. Still, Iwas handy, and not afraid to lend a hand at anything, from holding thehelm to cooking the mate's dinner. And so, before many days were over,I had taken my place without much ado as one of the crew.
For a ship of that size, engaged in such a trade, a crew of thirty menwas small enough. Most of them were foreigners, a few, like myself,Irish, and the rest English. The one thing that kept them all fromquarrelling was the hope of plunder; and it was easy to guess that, inthe matter of the stolen guns, although the credit of that achievementbelonged to Captain Cochin alone, the men would not have agreed on thispeaceable journey to France if they had not been promised a share in thefruits of the cargo when sold.
Captain Cochin found out that it is as hard to avoid the enemy's shipswhen you do not want them as it is to fall in with them when you do.
We had been out nearly a week, beating about against fitful winds downthe west coast of Ireland, when one evening just before nightfall wesighted land on our weather-bow, and between us and it a sail bearingdown our way.
As far as we could make out the stranger was a cruiser, in allprobability one of the government vessels at that time stationed offBantry Bay, on the look-out for some of the foreign smugglers andprivateers that made it their hunting-ground. The light fell toosuddenly to enable us to see more, but Captain Cochin flew the Englishcolours at his mast-head, and held on his course until night hid uscompletely.
Then we put out into the wind and ran for the open sea, and waited forthe morning.
The short midsummer night left us little waiting; and as soon as daybroke, the first thing we saw, within a league of us, and bearing rightacross our course, was the stranger in full chase. She was a brigantinefully armed, and carrying a great spread of sail, but to our surpriseshe flew not the English but the French colours.
On seeing this, Captain Cochin quickly hauled down the English flag, andran up that of his own country; but he disregarded the stranger's signalto come to, and held on with every breath of wind he could get into hiscanvas.
"Set a thief to catch a thief," they say. And so, the French privateersuspecting the French pirate to have good reason for running away,pressed on all sail, and gave full chase.
What surprised me most was to see that she was fast coming up on us. Ihad never contemplated such a thing as the _Arrow_ being caught byanything on water; but I had to admit now I was wrong. If the _Arrow_was a hare, the Frenchman was a greyhound.
However, there was no time to speculate on questions of speed. Thequestion was, should we show fight, or lie-to and explain ourselves?There was no hope of a ship like ours, so slenderly manned, being ableto capture or even disable our heavily-armed pursuer. On the otherhand, to surrender meant losing all our booty, and possibly our shipinto the bargain; for the French, when it suited their purpose, wereready enough to take advantage of a chance of pressing a smart craftlike the _Arrow_ into their own service, especially as she bore anEnglish name, and was known to have preyed pretty impartially on friendand foe alike.
An eager consultation took place on deck, some urging one course, someanother, while some proposed to throw the cargo overboard, and one ortwo to scuttle the ship.
However, as good luck would have it, there was a fifth way out of thedifficulty which we had little dreamed of.
"A sail on the weather-quarter!" suddenly shouted our watch.
The captain and mate went aloft to view her, and presently reported anEnglish frigate in full sail bearing down in our direction. She seemedto be coming fast, across the wind, and by the look of her was a regularline-of-battle ship, with a double row of guns snarling from her ports.
"That settles us," said Captain Cochin, rapidly recovering his spirits."While the lion and the tiger fight, Mister Fox slips off with thebooty. Way there; keep her as she goes, master; and good-day to you,monsieur."
He spoke the truth. The Frenchman, as soon as she caught sight of theEnglish frigate, altered her course abruptly, and instead of being thehunter became the hunted. So, for an hour or more, each of us held herown way, the Englishman closing on the Frenchman, and the _Arrow_sailing clear of both. Towards afternoon, the distant sound of a gunbehind us told us the battle had already begun, and before nightfall thetwo were no doubt at it broadside to broadside.
After that, we gave the land a wide berth, and met nothing we need fear,till at last, with the French flag flying, we sailed merrily into BrestHarbour, safe and sound, without a scratch on our hull or a hole in ourcanvas.
But here Captain Cochin's good luck suddenly deserted him; for no soonerwas he berthed, with sails stowed and anchors out, than he discoveredthat the French merchantman next him was none other than a vessel whichon his last voyage out he had attempted to board in mid-channel, and,but for a sudden squall, would have captured and plundered. The captainof the merchantman had already reported his wrongs to the authorities;and now, finding himself cheek by jowl with the offender, lost not amoment in taking his revenge.
So, just as we were about to lower our boat for a jaunt on shore, torefresh us after our voyage, the port-admiral sent off a galley to boardus, and summon us to attend on shore in irons, and show cause why weshould not, each one of us, be hanged by the neck.
It was a pretty end to our jaunt, and so suddenly done that there wasnothing for it but to surrender and follow where we were bidden. Nodoubt a smart craft like the _Arrow_, with a cargo of guns, was a goodenough excuse for the French admiral, quite apart from ourdelinquencies; and at a time like this, when France lived under a reignof terror, the only excuse needed for any act, just or unjust, was theforce to perform it.
You may imagine, out of all the hang-dog prisoners who marched that daythrough the streets of Brest, I felt myself the most ill-used; for I hadsailed in the _Arrow_ by no will of my own, and had taken part in no actof violence against any Frenchman, dead or alive. And yet, because Ichanced to be among the crew, I was to be hung by the neck! I knew wellenough, from what I had heard of French justice, that any excuses wouldbe but breath wasted. Indeed, as one of the few English of the party, Ishould probably be spared even the farce of a trial. My only
hope wasthat Captain Cochin, who had not been unkind to me so far, would speak aword in my favour.
We were marched to a dismal, white-washed guard-house on the edge of thetown, and were there locked up by half-dozens till it suited theadmiral's convenience to consider our case, and that was not till nextday. The cell in which I and five of my shipmates were confined was asmall, underground cellar, reeking with damp and foul smells, and litonly by a narrow grating in the ceiling, through which all night therain poured steadily, forming a huge puddle in the middle of the earthfloor.
There was one narrow bench on which we sat huddled together, to eat ourscanty portion of black bread, and pass the dismal night as best wecould. For my part, that night reconciled me to the prospect of aFrench gallows as much as anything.
In the morning we were ordered to march once more, and were brought intothe presence of some official who acted as judge to try cases ofmisdemeanour on the high seas. With the exception of Captain Cochin andmyself (I was able to speak the language a little) few of us understoodFrench, and the formality of having the proceedings interpreted to uswas not even allowed. The captain and certain of the crew of themerchantman were present and told their grievance, and with a largesweep of assumption swore that we were each as bad as the other. Thejudge demanded what Captain Cochin had to say, and cut him short beforehe had well opened his mouth.
I made a feeble effort to put myself right, not so much in any hope ofmoving the tribunal as of reminding Captain Cochin of my claims on hisgood offices. But he was too savage and perturbed to take the hint.
Then it came out that we were bringing arms into France, and were calledto prove that they were not for the use of the enemies of liberty. Whomwere they consigned to? They were not consigned.--Where did they comefrom? Ireland.--Ireland was in sympathy with France in her war againsttyranny. To rob Ireland was to rob the friend of France. To whom werethe arms about to be sold? To any that would buy them.--None but theenemies of France needed arms. Her sons were all armed already.Therefore the traffic was not only wicked but treasonable, and fortreason there was but one punishment--death.
At this the audience, who had crowded into the court, cheered loudly.
Had we any defence? any witnesses? Of course we had none but ourselves.
Then the sentence of the court was pronounced. Captain Cochin was to beguillotined next morning. The rest of us were to be hanged in chainsthat afternoon, and our bodies left exposed to view for three days as awarning to pirates and traitors.
So ended our trial; and had it not been so tragic in its ending, I couldhave laughed at the farce of it.
We were marched back to our prison to spend the few hours that remainedof our lives; and on the way our attention was directed by a friendlyguard to a great gallows with accommodation on it for at least tenpersons side by side. I only hoped, if it came to that, I might be inthe first batch.
This time I was placed in a different cell from that I had occupied thenight before. It was above ground, and lit by a larger window. Indeed,it was not intended to be used as a cell at all; but, as my jailerexplained in a jocular way, he had so many guests that day that he wasobliged to accommodate some of them in the soldiers' quarters, andbegged monsieur (that was I) would accept his excuses for not havingmade more elaborate preparations for his reception. In half-an-hour orso, he said, there would be more room. If monsieur could kindly waittill then, he should have an apartment suited to his dignity.
"Monsieur is too good," said I in the politest French I could muster,thinking it wise to humour him; "but I should take it as a favour to beallowed to give up my apartment."
"By no means," said the other, slapping me on the back; "we cannot spareyour company a moment before the time.--Meanwhile, make yourself athome, and receive the assurance of my profound esteem."
"There is one favour I would beg, if I might be so bold," said I. "Inthe short time left me I would like to write a letter to a friend."
"If it is a lady friend," said the Frenchman with a wink, "it might beallowed--provided she is fair, and I may have the honour of deliveringit."
"She is fair," said I, trying hard to keep up the jest; "and I willgladly trust you with what I write to her."
The fellow was, after all, of the good-natured kind, and I think meantno harm by his jests. At any rate, after some demur, he agreed to loosemy handcuffs for half-an-hour while I wrote; and having fetched me inpen and paper, left me to myself, double locking the door after him.
This was what I wanted. I waited till his footsteps died down thepassage, and then crept silently to the window. It was above my reach,but by jumping I could just catch the bars and haul myself up. Notbeing intended as a dungeon, the bars were loosely fixed, and I foundthat it would be possible to remove one, and so allow room through whichto squeeze. The casement itself was of the ordinary kind, and openedoutwards with a simple catch-fastener.
Outside was a courtyard at the back of the guard-house, in which werescattered sundry brooms and buckets, and a pile of rubbish in onecorner. By mounting this I calculated I could get my hands to the topof the outer wall; and once over that, my chance was come.
I returned to my table and pretended to be occupied with writing, whilereally I was listening with all my ears for any sound that might show onwhich side of the prison the guard was set.
The Frenchman, I believe, had been quite correct in saying that thecompany at present being entertained in the place was inconvenientlylarge; and if so, the guard set over them was probably dangerouslysmall. And if the executions were to begin at once, it was conceivablethey might be still smaller as the afternoon wore on. So, though I knewthat my precious half-hour was slipping by, I waited patiently for agood part of it, till presently I heard a word of command, and aconfused tramp of footsteps down the passage.
This was the first batch of my luckless comrades being marched to theirdeath, and I shuddered as I thought how near I stood to their fate.
But cost what it would I would make a dash for freedom first. I sprangto the window and hauled myself up on to the ledge. The loose bar gaveway after a very little coaxing, and next minute I was out of thecasement and in the little courtyard. One or two windows overlooked it,but either these were too high for any one to look from, or there was noone to look, or if there was, the attraction of the ghastly scene goingon at the other side took them the other way. And to this sameattraction, no doubt, was due the fact that no sentry was patrolling theback of the prison.
I succeeded by means of the rubbish heap in scaling the wall. Butbefore leaping down on the other side, the thought occurred to me thatif I could hide somewhere near till night, I should have a better chanceof escaping with my pursuers ahead of me than behind me.
By following the line of the wall I found I could reach a corner of theprison where there was a blank wall, up which a gutter pipe ran to therambling, gabled roof, where, if I could only reach it, I should hardlybe looked for.
The clamber was a perilous one, especially as the heavy rain renderedthe iron pipe more than usually slippery. But I was sailor enough tounderstand how to grip with hands and feet, and succeeded with no greatdifficulty in reaching the top and hiding myself away in a deep angle ofthe roof--not safe, indeed, but with time at least to breathe andconsider what next.
Nor was I too soon; for I had not lain there two minutes before I hearda sudden shout and rush of feet in the yard below, and knew that myescape had been discovered and that a price was upon my head.