Every Man Will Do His Duty (48 page)

I mentioned the captain’s cabin, but he was really lying in the cabin of the first lieutenant. The latter, on being ordered by the French commodore
to repair on board the
Renommée,
had been unable to remove his things, so the next in rank being ordered instead, I was made his substitute to my infinite regret.

Before taking leave of my captain, I helped him into the boat which conveyed him to one of the
“armées-en-flute”
whither he was carried. I was accompanied by Conn and Thomas, who were likewise ordered to the
Renommée.
The other survivors were then distributed between the four French ships.

On our way we fell in with an English frigate, when all the prisoners were sent below in the hold and stowed away regardless of rank or fortune. Whilst in this confinement, sitting cramped up in a corner and scarcely capable of moving, two of my men showed a mark of attention to me which pleased me very much. They took off their neckerchiefs and tied one end of each to the battens overhead, tying the other under each arm, which then provided a sort of sling, a tolerable substitute for lying down. One of the men addressed me whilst we were in durance vile with the words, “You struck me on the head to-day, sir, with the guns.” I scarcely remembered the circumstance, but he brought it more prominently forward by some additional remark, and I replied, “Yes, but what were you leaving your quarter for?” “I was going to fetch a match or something to fire the guns off with, and after all could only get some cinders from the galley.” I was sorry to have punished him when I discovered this to be the fact; I had thought he was running away from his duty.

We heard a shot presently, as we thought, between the foremast and the mainmast, and our hopes rose at the thought of an action; but the English frigate, it appeared later, intending to intercept them before they could reach their destination, made a short cut to Guadeloupe. Unluckily for us, she only succeeded with the two
armées-en-flutes.
The
Renommée
now met with a mischance, and struck on the Shoals, but we came across an English West Indiaman which had been captured, and the commodore settled to put us on board of her. So we were had up; and I, as senior officer, signed a declaration that we would steer south at a certain distance from Madeira before we proceeded to England. All had been arranged for us to go on board in the morning early, when, to our grief, an English frigate came in sight and altered the whole proceeding. Instead of sailing home in the West Indiaman, she was burnt without delay, and we continued prisoners without a prospect at present of release. The burning of the ship was a sufficient indication of an enemy’s presence, and the English frigate kept to the windward. They little imagined what an easy prize was within their reach, as the
Renommée,
being crippled with the loss of so many guns, could have offered but small resistance. She was, however, a fast sailer, and I was
amused despite my disappointment to see the ruse they adopted to keep away from the English frigate by not hauling the bowline and sheets aft. We then hastened forward to Brest and passed another English frigate at night, evidently ready for action, as all her main-deck was lighted up. But we kept dark, and it is possible that we were not observed. Twelve hours later we landed in Brest, and, after undergoing quarantine, were landed and sent to the hospital, where Whitehurst joined us. The captive officers, including the captains of merchantmen, amounted to nine in number. The commodore then called upon us and gave Conn and myself £25 apiece, and took our receipt to reimburse when we could. The act was noble and generous, as, indeed, had been all his conduct towards us since our capture. Whitehurst had also found equal comfort with the captain of the
Clorinde.

Before we left the hospital at Brest, a Dane, the captain of a merchant vessel which was permitted to carry merchandise of a certain kind between England and France by an international understanding, came to see me on the eve of his starting for Granville, and asked me if I had not some notion of making an escape, and promised that if I could get to Granville he would do his best to carry me over to England. I mentioned Whitehurst, and he exclaimed vehemently “that he wouldn’t have anything to do with him,” and said that I was the only one that had treated him with any civility during our association in hospital. Whitehurst’s behaviour had been quite the reverse, he said, and he’d have none of him.

As it happened, Whitehurst and I had already put our heads together and formed a plan for our escape. The captain of the
Clorinde
had given him a map of the country and a box of opium pills. And chance had chalked out our first route to Granville, the very place where the Danish captain had advised me to go.

Our short sojourn at the hospital was, considering all things, a pleasant one. Between the nine of us we managed to devise plenty of means for our amusement, and sailors are proverbially fertile in resources. All sorts of games were the order of the day, and the surveillance of our guards, though complete, was not embarrassing. At meal times we were always favoured with the society of the softer sex, who, in the profession of Mary, stood behind our chairs to watch our welfare, ordered all things to our comfort, and finally won our hearts to a man.

Whitehurst was a fine-looking fellow, standing quite 6 ft. 2 in., and apparently (I mean no scandal) an especial favourite with our fair
protectresses. Thomas, the midshipman, was a lad exactly suited to carry the citadel of a lady’s heart by storm—a particularly well-favoured specimen of a handsome youth. Conn and myself, disdaining the evanescent qualities of mere superficial beauty, held our proper position in the estimation of all by the force of superior rank. On leaving their charge we severally and collectively received their blessing, and with the benediction ringing in our ears, marched forth under a convoy of as many French soldiers as were men in our little band.

Whitehurst and I had sufficient penetration to observe the character of our military escort. They warmed up without reserve to those who were cheerful and unconstrained, so we kept up a continual flow of mirth along the journey and let nothing interrupt us. At the first halt after supper we proposed some mulled wine, which was produced accordingly, and shared equally with the parties without distinction. And we passed to our beds after a cheerful and perhaps rather noisy entertainment.

On the second night we halted at another inn and were all allotted rooms. We all met together as before, and the cup went round merrily, we enjoying ourselves as much as the soldiers. Whitehurst and I were to sleep together this night, so, quite casually as it were, we selected a bed nearest the window at the end of the room. We had no opportunity of conferring with the others, so counselled as well as we could between ourselves. Towards the time for turning in, Whitehurst, as if on the spur of the moment, suggested one more glass. This I resisted, warmly declaring that we had had quite enough and that it was unreasonable. He insisted and called for the wine, and set to work mixing it, taking an opportunity during the brewing of dropping some of the pills into all the glasses but our own. The soldiers were delighted and drank away unsuspectingly. Soon afterwards we prepared for rest. Half of the party repaired to a different room and left two merchant captains, Whitehurst and myself, together with our sleepy guards, to our glory. Whitehurst, unobserved, slipped into bed with his clothes on. I leisurely commenced to divest myself of mine; and the soldiers, but more actively, for they were drowsy, followed my example. They closed the shutters of the windows and barred them, and hung their knapsacks thereon, leaving their guns against the wall close by. It was not very long before they were completely overcome by their last draught and as heavy as logs.

I had not been idle in the interval but had now, thanks to sundry complicated movements under the sheet, become fully dressed again and ready for work. Whitehurst was naturally inclined to be awkward and moved about more like an elephant than a human being. Emerging from my side of the bed noiselessly, I removed the soldiers’ knapsacks, unbarred
the shutters, and got the window open, completing the whole of my task fortunately without a blunder. There was nothing now but to get to the ground outside, for we were in an upper room about twelve feet from the level. I went first and Whitehurst followed, coming, of course, upon his feet like the animal above-mentioned, so that I was horribly frightened lest any of the soldiers should be awakened by the disturbance of his exit; but their slumber was unbroken, I am delighted to say, and away we started as fast as our legs would carry us.

In after days I encountered one of the merchant captains who had been in the same room with us at the time of our escape. He told me that he had seen us leave and that one of the guards got up shortly afterwards, walked over to the window, closed it, and then lay down and went to sleep again. The opium had stupefied him. The merchant captain’s bed-fellow had been awake also, and perceiving our escape wanted to follow, but was prevented by his companion, who knew that detection must inevitably ensue if they attempted to do likewise at that juncture.

We kept to the road until morning dawned, when we came upon what looked like a large common, or piece of waste land, on one side of which ran a ditch of sufficient depth to serve our purpose of concealment; so into it we went, and ignoring the discomfort of such an uncongenial and damp lodging, we remained therein, not venturing to raise our heads above the banks again until nightfall, when we once more took to the highroad. After a few hours’ journey, guided by the map that Whitehurst had preserved, we approached a village, and hunger beginning to assert its supremacy, we debated what should be done. Whitehurst, who spoke French as well, if not better, than his native tongue, settled to go into the town and get some food. He returned with a loaf of brown bread, which was gratefully and greedily devoured; and we pushed on, nor halted again until the night had disappeared, when we made for some fields and looked up another friendly ditch, where we stretched ourselves for the day.

We had taken up our quarters not far from a gate, and to our discomfiture a man began to repair it during the morning. We kept close to the bottom of the ditch, not stirring a muscle all the time he was so unpleasantly near, and we could plainly hear him talking occasionally to himself. But this danger passed away, and right glad we were when the moment for venturing forth on our journey again arrived, Whitehurst repeated the commissariat duty at the next place through which we passed, and then we resolved to get more agreeable shelter if possible for the ensuing day.

On our road we met a man and asked him to direct us. He informed us that we were in the right course, and then asked us if we were deserters. We replied in the affirmative, and he promised to assist us, saying that he
thought he could procure us horses, which he did, and we rode off, followed by a boy who beat the horses, over about the worst road I ever travelled on. The mud was over the boy’s ankles: he was barefooted, and ran the whole distance behind us.

Arrived at another village, we entered an inn and asked for beds. They could give us none but had no objection to us sitting round the fire for the rest of the night. We were too glad of such a chance to hesitate a minute and so took our places with alacrity. Two maids were already nodding over the embers with their arms under their aprons; and as we had our pockets to take advantage of, we thrust our hands therein, to be as much in the fashion as practicable, and were soon in dreamland.

Towards daylight some of the customers left, and we were awakened and accommodated with their room. Our experience in the ditches had given us a fresh relish for a genuine bed, and the exertions we had made on the road prepared us for any amount of rest; therefore we gave ourselves up to a luxurious oblivion with a right goodwill, and slept so late into the hours of the ensuing day that our landlady came up to know if we were alive, or what had come to us. We ordered breakfast and despatched it in our room, after which Whitehurst sallied out for a look round.

During his absence the landlady reappeared and began to ask me some questions with great volubility. My knowledge of French was extremely limited, and I could trust myself with no confidence to any expressions in that language but the word
“Out,”
and that I kept on using at all hazards, whenever she looked inquiringly after a speech. I must have put it in a wrong place more than once, as she testified by her manner, and what might have happened I can’t say if Whitehurst had not made his appearance on the scene. She turned to him, and, as he told me, pronounced me to be English. He vociferated to the contrary, and maintained that I was purely German; but it would not do—the good woman was not born yesterday, and knew an Englishman when she saw one. At last she declared she had no desire to betray us, and if we trusted her we should be kindly treated. So Whitehurst, with my consent, made a clean breast of it. Upon this she recommended us to sign her visitors’ book, putting any fictitious names we liked, and then she advised our going to St. Malo to a house where the owners, whom she knew, would do the best in their power for us.

In the evening, therefore, we resumed our flight, and were supplied by our good landlady with horses, which carried us to the place in question. Here we were conducted to a spacious room and locked in. Our meals were brought to us by a servant in regular succession next day, and at night we left again on horseback. We were told by our kind friends that we should not meet with similar attentions after we had got beyond Brittany. This
intelligence was proved true at our next attempt to find a resting-place, for we were refused admission by the landlord, who declared he would not betray us: this was at Avranches. Our guide then took us to the house of two poor women, sisters, who gained their livelihood by keeping an infants’ school. They found a man who engaged to take us to Granville, whither we accordingly proceeded. There I lost no time in looking up the Danish captain, whom I found in bed suffering from dropsy. He was glad to see me and renewed his former offer of assistance. I mentioned Whitehurst, and he declined to have anything to do with him. I left him and returned next evening with Whitehurst, hoping that he might mollify the Dane and induce him to alter his determination, assuring him that no offence had ever been intentionally offered, which I quite believe to be correct; but no, the Dane remained obdurate, and under no condition whatever would listen to any proposal on Whitehurst’s behalf.