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Hurricane Hurry, a novel by William H. G. Kingston

Chapter 13

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_ CHAPTER THIRTEEN

RHODE ISLAND.--SENT TO ASSIST SYREN AND TRANSPORT.--FRIGATE BLOWS UP.-- TAKE A PRIZE.--GRAMPUS IN CHARGE.--TENDER ON HER BEAM ENDS.--JOIN SIR PETER PARKER ON BOARD BRISTOL.--MY OLD MESSMATES.--APPOINTED AS LIEUTENANT TO THE CHAMELEON AND THEN TO THE CAMEL.--SAIL FOR GULF OF FLORIDA.--FEVER.--WAR WITH FRANCE.--ONCE MORE AT JAMAICA.

I gave the land a wide berth, thereby getting fine weather, and with a fair breeze had a quick run for Rhode Island. I brought up close to the flag-ship, and hurried on board to make a report of such of my proceedings as I thought it incumbent on me to inform the admiral about. He was pleased to approve of all I had done, but when I mentioned the ladies, he looked hard at me as if he had read my secret.

"You'll not wish to be idle, I know. Give your vessel a refit, and I shall have work for you before long," said he with, I thought, a significant look.

I accordingly ran into harbour, hove the tender down, and in three days was ready for sea, when I received orders to accompany his Majesty's ships Flora, Lark and Lady Parker tender to the assistance of the Syren frigate, which with a transport had run on shore at Point Judith, the people being made prisoners by the rebels.

At ten o'clock at night we, with the two frigates, dropped anchor about two miles off shore, having the wrecked ships just inside of us. We were not long allowed to remain in quietness before we were discovered by the enemy, who commenced a hot fire on us from three eighteen-pounders. As it was important not to allow the enemy to increase their force, four of our boats were instantly manned ready to proceed to the attack. The first lieutenant of the Chatham was sent in command of them, and each officer was furnished with a supply of combustibles, with directions to heave them on board the ships, so as to blow them up without delay. The first lieutenant of the Flora had charge of the second boat, the second of the Lark the third, and I commanded the fourth. We were all ready by eleven o'clock, when we pulled away towards the Syren. There was no use to attempt concealment, for we were conscious that our motions were narrowly watched; and this was proved when we approached the shore, for we were welcomed with a very warm salute of big guns and small-arms, the musket-balls and round-shot rattling round us in a far from pleasant manner. To add to the difficulties to be encountered, a heavy sea was running, which washed up alongside the stranded frigate, and created a considerable risk of causing the boats to be stove in.

"Pull away, my hearties, pull away!" sang out our gallant commanding officer. "We'll make a short business of the work in hand when we once get alongside."

He was as good as his word. In spite of the iron and leaden shower which rattled around us, we dashed on. The masts had gone by the board, but had been secured, and by this means a stage had been formed leading from the ship to the shore. Along this stage the enemy, till we drew near, were busily engaged in carrying off the stores and provisions out of the ship. When they saw us coming they gave up the work and poured instead a number of armed men on board. The bowmen stood ready, boat-hooks in hand, to hook on as the sea sent us surging alongside. When our boats rose to the top of the waves we tumbled in on deck through the ports, with our cutlasses in our teeth and all sorts of combustibles under our arms. The enemy did not like our looks, and as retreat was open to them they could not resist the temptation of taking advantage of it; so when we appeared through some of the headmost ports, they retired over the stern. To set fire to our grenades and other fiery engines of destruction, and to heave them down below and to scatter them fore and aft, was the work of little more than a minute. The enemy scarcely understood what we were about, or they would have tried to interrupt our proceedings. The effect of our combustibles was very rapid. A number of inflammable things were scattered about; they at once caught fire, and thick wreaths of smoke, followed by fierce flames, darted upwards on every side.

"To the boats! to the boats!" sang out our commander.

It was time indeed to be into them, for the fiery element was already surrounding many of the guns, which, being shotted, were going off as the touch-holes became heated. Almost enveloped in wreaths of smoke and fiercely crackling flames, we rushed to the ports, aware that any moment the ship might blow up and carry us high into the air. Explosion after explosion followed each other in rapid succession, giving us warning of what might occur. Our gallant leader got dreadfully burned. I saw him just as he was about to fall, I feared, into the flames. I grasped his arm, and together we leaped into the first boat we saw alongside.

"All hands quit the ship!" he shouted, before he would allow the boat to shove off.

No one, we were assured, was left behind. It was time to be free of her. Glad enough we were to pull away, and we soon had the satisfaction of seeing the other three boats free of the ship and pulling out to sea. Several of the crew of the boat had once belonged to the Syren.

"There goes the old girl. She deserved a better fate," they exclaimed, as they watched the conflagration. "She keeps up her spirits to the last, though," they added, as her guns were discharged one after the other in rapid succession--some of them doing, I suspect, some damage on shore, towards which their muzzles were pointed. We were saved the trouble of destroying the transport, for by some means or other she had caught fire, and before the enemy could get on board to put it out or to save any of her stores, she had burnt to the water's edge. The enemy kept popping away at us while we pulled off from the shore, for the light of the burning frigate falling on the boats' sides made us tolerably conspicuous targets. However, we kept the ship as much as possible between us and the rebels, and as they were likewise not particularly good shots, we escaped with a very trifling amount of damage. Indeed, I should, before I had had experience in the matter, have believed it scarcely possible that so much powder and shot could have been expended with so small a result. One man got a flesh-wound in the right arm, and another had his head grazed, while the boats were struck not more than half-a-dozen times in all. Suddenly the firing ceased. There was a perfect silence. Then the flames from the frigate seemed to burn brighter than ever, and it appeared as if the whole blazing mass was lifted bodily up into the air like a huge sky-rocket. Fragments of masts and spars and planks darted above the rest, and then, scattering around, very quickly again came hissing down into the water. A deep groan escaped the bosoms of many of our men. There was no cheering--no sound of exultation. An old friend had been destroyed; they mourned for her, though they themselves had assisted in her destruction. War, and what war produces, is at the best very horrid work. I cannot, even now, think over all the havoc and destruction we, as was our duty, were the means of producing, without feelings of regret and shame.

It was nearly midnight when I got back to my craft. The signal was soon afterwards made to weigh anchor, when we made sail towards the mouth of the harbour. There had been a stiffish breeze all the time we had been engaged in the destruction of the Syren, but it had not come on to blow very hard, and the night was extremely dark. The schooner's head was off shore, and, overcome with fatigue, I had just thrown myself on a locker, with my clothes on, to snatch a few moments' sleep, when Tom Rockets roused me up with the information that a strange sail was crossing our bows. I instantly sprang on deck, and, catching sight of the stranger, put up the helm in chase. Away we flew through the hissing, heaving seas after her, shrouded in a mass of foam. I asked Grampus what he thought her.

"A schooner, sir. When I first saw her there was no doubt of it," was his answer. "An enemy's coaster."

Just as he spoke, a gleam of light breaking through the clouds showed us the chase right ahead. She had now very little chance of escaping from us. We were coming up with her hand-over-hand. As we drew near I fired one of our bow-chasers. Still she held on, so I fired another, and this time with some effect, for she at once put down her helm and hauled her foresail to windward. The tender had a jolly-boat belonging to her. I jumped into it with Tom Rockets and another hand, and soon stood in safety on the deck of the prize. She had, I saw, a number of hands on board, and I felt somewhat surprised that they did not bundle me and my two hands into the boat, and tell us to go back whence we had come. She was, however, only a quiet honest trader, so her master affirmed, from Bedford, bound to Connecticut with fish and oil. On counting her people, I found that she mustered sixteen in all--stout, fierce-looking fellows. Some two or three of them said they were landsmen, and one hailed as a Quaker and a non-combatant, but I did not like the looks of any of them. I sent Rockets to the helm, and told him to keep the prize under the lee of the tender. I found that the schooner had a large boat on board. I accordingly ordered the crew to lower her into the water.

"Now, my lads," said I, "tumble into her yourselves, and make the best of your way to the shore. It is a dark night, and not very pleasant weather, I own, but it is either that or a prison, you know."

Before I had done speaking the rebels had begun to launch the boat, too glad of the opportunity of getting on shore to consider the danger they must run in reaching it. The Quaker, however, did not appear at all to relish the trip, and protested vehemently against being thus unceremoniously sent adrift. He protested that he was as quiet as a lamb, and, that he would obey my orders as strictly as if he had taken the oath of allegiance to King George. I told him that might be, but that "necessity has no law greater than itself." Then he assured me that he was a non-combatant; that to fight was against his principles, and that he would not dream of lifting a finger against any man.

"I dare say not, friend," I answered, "but you wouldn't mind boring a hole in a ship's bottom and letting her go down, or setting fire to her, and letting her blow up with all hands on board, provided you could make your escape unhurt, eh?"

I saw that I had by chance hit the right nail on the head, and that he had, some time or other, done the very thing I suggested. He said nothing further. Still he evidently did not like being turned adrift in the boat. I, however, was inexorable. The enemy had so frequently retaken vessels which had been captured from them, that I was, I own, afraid to trust any of the prisoners I had just made. I accordingly bundled the Quaker in with the rest. I must own that I acted a harsh part. It turned out a terrible night. It was blowing very fresh, and there was a heavy sea running, while it was more than usually dark. I scarcely reflected at the time on the dreadful risk to which I was exposing the poor fellows. In vain I afterwards endeavoured to discover what became of them. They might have reached the shore in safety, or been picked up by some friendly vessel; but they might have been run down, or their boat might have been swamped, and they all might have perished miserably. I pray they might have escaped. If not, their deaths were at my door.

As soon as the prisoners had shoved off, I sent the boat back to the tender, and Grampus and two men returned in her.

"Grampus," said I, "I put you in charge of this craft. I hope that it is not the last of which you will get command."

He pulled the front lock of his hair when I made him this speech, and looked round with a glance which showed that he did not over highly appreciate the honour.

"I'll try to get her into harbour, sir, at all events," he answered, as I stepped into the boat, and not without difficulty returned to the tender, when, with my prize, I again made sail for Rhode Island. An hour afterwards I captured a whale-boat, from Connecticut to Bedford, with four hogs-heads of salt. As I could spare no people to man her, after making the prisoners come on board, I took her in tow. I was in hopes of carrying her into harbour, but it soon came on to blow harder than ever, and before long I had the dissatisfaction to find that I had towed the prize under water, and, to avoid any mishap to ourselves, I had quickly to cut her adrift. When the morning broke, so heavy a gale was blowing that, being unable to reach Rhode Island, I bore away for the Seaconnet Passage, making a signal to my prize to do the same. We reached it not without difficulty. I was well content to drop my anchor not far from his Majesty's ship Kingfisher, which I found lying there. Grampus came in soon after, and brought up near me. I asked him if he was sure that his ground tackle was good. He answered, "Pretty well," but he wished that it were better. An officer from the Kingfisher soon after came on board, and advised us to look to our cables, for it was coming on to blow harder than ever. The caution was not needed. I had done all I could to secure the tender, and she seemed well able to ride out the gale. The prize, however, I saw was labouring heavily. I watched her anxiously, both on my own account and that of Grampus and the men with him.

At noon, just as I was leaving the deck, I heard an exclamation from Rockets, which made me pop my head pretty rapidly up the companion-hatch, and, looking to leeward, I saw my prize, amid a mass of foam, driving away at headlong speed towards the enemy's shore. To help her was impossible. I was more sorry at the thought of losing Grampus than of anything else. Even should he and his companions escape with their lives, they would, at all events, be made prisoners by the enemy, and I might chance never to meet my old follower again. First one cable parted, then another. Grampus made sail as quickly as he could, but he could only show a very small amount of canvas with the gale there was then blowing. I watched the schooner anxiously through my glass. Tom Rockets stood by my side, as eager about her as I was. On she drove. She appeared to be almost among the breakers.

"She's lost, sir, she's lost!" exclaimed Tom.

"No, no," said I, taking another glance. "Grampus is handling her like a good seaman, as he is. She keeps her luff, and is shooting out again into clear water. Hurrah! Well done, Grampus! She stands up to her canvas bravely. She is making for Fogland Ferry. If she carries nothing away she will reach it too."

Such were the exclamations to which I gave utterance as I watched the progress of the prize. More than once she appeared to be nearing the land, and I thought that I could make out people following her course, ready to take possession of her should she drift on shore. Then, again, she stood off clear of danger, and at length disappeared in the distance. By daylight next morning, the weather having moderated, I once more made sail in quest of my prize, and as I drew near the wharf at Fogland Ferry, to my great satisfaction, I found her safely moored alongside of it. We remained here some days, till at last, the weather becoming finer, on the 27th of November I sailed with my prize for Newport. I was very anxious to carry her there in safety. I had gained her not without danger and difficulty, and she afforded a substantial evidence that I had not been idle during my cruise. Scarcely was I clear of the land when I made out a large whale-boat, which I chased for three hours and ultimately took. She had on board a cargo of beef, pork, cheese, and tallow. However, it came on to blow harder than ever, so, much against my will, I had to heave a cold shot into her, which sent her to the bottom, and once more I was compelled to run for the Seaconnet Passage.

Next day, that is, on the 28th, I once more put to sea, but in a short time it came on to blow harder than ever. Still, in my anxiety to reach my destination, I did not like to put back, and kept hammering away in the hopes of making good my passage. Feeling that I must take ten minutes of sleep, I went below, but scarcely had I thrown myself on a locker when I was hove off it. I sprang on deck, and found that a squall had thrown the vessel on her beam-ends. I sang out an order to cut away topsail halyards, sheets, main and fore ties, peak halyards. It was done, not without difficulty. Still she would not right. I put the helm up. She answered it, and away we floundered, almost water-logged, to our former place of anchorage in the Seaconnet Passage.

On the 29th, getting all things to rights again, I once more sailed; and this time, in spite of the gale, and not without difficulty, I reached Newport with my prize. I got some credit for my proceedings, and I felt that I was amply rewarded by the way the admiral spoke to me.

"I have my eye on you, Mr Hurry, and it is, I feel, my duty to mark out merit for reward," he observed, with a pleasant smile, one day when he had invited me to dine with him.

I got three or four days' rest, and, on the 3rd, sailed once more on a cruise.

I had not been out many days when a tremendous gale sprang up which compelled me to lay-to. During this time the little vessel shipped several heavy seas, which I more than once thought would send her to the bottom. At last one heavier than its predecessors came rolling and roaring towards us.

"Hold on, my lads!" I sang out.

There was nothing else to be done. It struck the vessel.

"She is sinking! she is sinking!" cried out several of the people, as the sea washed over us.

She rose again; but our enemy had left us in a pretty state of wreck and confusion. The caboose was gone, and so was everything on deck not thoroughly secured. The water, too, in torrents was rushing down below. Still our masts stood, and not a rope was carried away. I immediately ordered the pumps to be rigged, and had to keep all hands spell and spell at work at them. The gale, which had been blowing from the north-east, now shifted to the north-west as hard as ever. I had no choice but to remain hove-to, and to work away at the pumps to keep the vessel afloat. Our caboose being gone, and as we had no stove below, we were unable to light a fire to cook anything. We were all, therefore, compelled to live on raw meat. The crew didn't seem to think this anything of a hardship; indeed, seamen, when not hard pressed, will often, to save themselves the trouble of cooking, or because they prefer it, eat it in that state.

I have had many a hard time at sea, but that was as hard as any as long as it lasted. As soon as I could venture to make sail, I shaped a course for Rhode Island, and, getting a better land-fall than I expected, I reached it on the 12th of December. When I went to report myself to Sir Peter, he received me very kindly.

"You have had a pretty rough time of it, Mr Hurry," he remarked.

"Yes, sir," I replied, and I told him how the tender had been knocked about, and what a hard time we all had had of it; but I made no complaint, and finished by saying that I was ready to go again to sea in her as soon as she had undergone the necessary repairs.

"No, no, my lad," he answered. "I like your spirit; but she and you have had enough of it just now. You shall lay her up for the winter, and probably before the spring we may have other work carved out for you."

I was very glad to hear this, and very speedily got the tender dismantled and laid up. The admiral, of course, knew more than I did as to what was going forward, and I guessed that none of us should have long to remain idle.

On the 20th of December, 1778, the Bristol, Raisonable, Nonsuch, Somerset, and a fleet of transports arrived from the Delaware River; and on the 27th Sir Peter Parker shifted his flag to the Bristol, taking with him the officers of the Chatham and a hundred seamen. Sir Peter Parker was now only waiting the arrival of Lord Howe, to proceed to the West Indies to take the command there. I looked forward to the time with great satisfaction, for I had no doubt that the admiral would give me every opportunity in his power of winning the step I so much coveted.

Two or three days after I joined, Delisle and another old shipmate, O'Brien, made their appearance on board the Bristol, to which I found that they had been appointed. It was a pleasure to us all; for latterly I had been so constantly on detached duty that we had seen but little of each other. We were, I may truly say, like brothers, regarding each other with the most sincere and truest affection. I doubt if any friendship is greater than that of people thus situated. We anticipated all sorts of fun in the West Indies; for those were the palmy days of the islands, when the planters, or rather their managers and the merchants residing there, lived like princes, and treated all visitors with unbounded hospitality. It was in too many instances with them a short life and a merry one. Delisle had been there for a short time, and so had several of our other shipmates, and the accounts they gave were quite sufficient to make us long to go there.

On the 4th of January Lord Howe arrived at Rhode Island, and on the 15th we sailed thence for our destination. One thing only made me regret leaving the American shores; the certainty that I should have no further chance of again meeting Madeline Carlyon till the war was ended, and I might obtain leave to go on shore to visit her no longer as the professed enemy of her countrymen, but, as I trusted, an accepted suitor and a friend of America and the Americans. Though I may not be constantly mentioning her, it must not be supposed that she was ever out of my thoughts. All my hopes and wishes for the future were wrapped up in her; and often and often I had to struggle hard against the wish of quitting the service, and of seeking her out without delay. Of course I very quickly saw the folly, not to say hopelessness, of such a proceeding. I had nothing but my profession to depend on; and if I were to desert that profession, how was I to support a wife and as to joining the ranks of the enemy and fighting against my countrymen, that, even in my maddest moods, never entered my imagination. However, I will not now dwell further on the matter.

The first island we made was Antigua, where we arrived, without meeting with any adventure worthy of note, on the 5th of February. We found there HMS Aurora, with Vice-Admiral Young's flag on board. We sailed again the next day with two transports under our convoy, and arrived at Port Royal in Jamaica on the 15th. Here Sir Peter Parker superseded Vice-Admiral Gayton as Commander-in-Chief. On the 18th we went alongside the wharf at Kingston, and hove down to repair and clean the ship's bottom. We had now many opportunities of seeing this, one of the most beautiful and picturesque of the West India islands, as well as of engaging in the gaieties of the place. With regard to the scenery, others have often described it far better than I can pretend to do, while the thought of Madeline kept me from entering into the somewhat extravagant gaieties which were of daily occurrence. The repairs of the ship took us till the 20th of March, when we hauled out into the harbour.

A short time after this, two ships came into port direct from England, the Ostrich and Active. Each of them had left a lieutenant behind them; and Sir Peter appointed two of ours to fill up the vacancies, and in their steads my friends Delisle and O'Brien obtained their commissions. I was beginning to feel somewhat jealous of them, when the Chameleon came in. Several of her officers had been disabled, having been blown up in a prize she had taken, and were now gone to the hospital. Among them was Lieutenant David Mackey, in whose room the admiral gave me an acting order.

I was sorry to part with my old shipmates, still it was with great satisfaction that I found myself raised to the rank I had longed to obtain, as I had no doubt that I should soon be confirmed in it. My duty in the ship was, however, both disagreeable and severe. In those days, when the schoolmaster had made but little progress, in the Navy especially, and not much on shore, it was difficult to obtain good and steady warrant officers, and I was especially troubled with a drunken boatswain, gunner, and carpenter. Drunk or sober, they were constantly insubordinate, setting a bad example to the crew, and quarrelling with each other. I determined, however, to master them, and compel them to do their duty, or get them dismissed from the service. As I was the only officer in the ship directly over them, my task was not an easy one.

Having run the ship over to water at Rockfort, I found, on my return to Port Royal, that the admiral shifted his flag from the Bristol to the Chameleon. He had just been promoted from Rear of the Blue to Rear of the Red.

My troubles and annoyances with my subordinates continued to increase. Scarcely a day passed but what they were guilty of some neglect of duty, which more than once placed the ship in a dangerous position. I was continually afraid that the gunner, by some carelessness in the magazine, would blow her and all on board up into the air. I have no doubt that most of the catastrophes of that nature, which have from time to time occurred, have been caused by the conduct of which he was guilty. Fortunately for me, I was thoroughly supported in my duty by Captain Douglas of the Chameleon, who was in every respect the officer and the gentleman, and I am much indebted to him for many kind and favourable remarks he made respecting me to the admiral. When a man is endeavouring to do his duty, it is pleasant to be spoken of as an active, zealous, intelligent officer, as I know he did of me. The misconduct of the gunner grew more and more unbearable, and at length I was compelled to bring him, as also the boatswain and carpenter, to a court-martial. The result was that the former was broke, and rendered incapable of again serving his Majesty; while the other two, who did not deserve a less punishment, were severely reprimanded. They would have been broke likewise but for the difficulty which then existed of finding intelligent and educated men to fill the posts they occupied.

The Camel, Captain Bligh, having come into harbour with one of her lieutenants sick, I was appointed to her as acting-lieutenant, her captain having done me the favour of applying for me to the admiral. We left the harbour on the 10th of June, and anchored next day in Bluefield's Bay, where we found lying HMS Hind, Southampton, and Stork, with a hundred sail of merchantmen.

On the 25th we proceeded with them to the Gulf of Florida. The weather was intensely hot, the sun struck down with unmitigated fury on our heads, and in a few days seven cases of fever appeared on board. Scarcely was a man taken ill than he became delirious, and in a few hours he was dead. Thus in six days we lost twenty seamen and seven marines, together with Lieutenant Thomas Philipsmith of the marines, and Mr John Eaglestone, master's mate. It was a sad and weary time we had of it. Captain Bligh kept up his spirits in a wonderful way. I messed with him all the time I was on board, and he always spoke frankly and openly to me; indeed, I should be most ungrateful did I not acknowledge the kindness with which he treated me on all occasions.

"I hope we may do better when we get clear of the land," he remarked. "This climate tries the poor fellows sadly."

It did indeed. On the 28th the master, purser and surgeon were taken ill, and a few days afterwards I was myself struck down, as were the gunner, surgeon's mate, and fully sixty more men. Thus, we had not enough men to work the ship; and for some time Captain Bligh and one of the only officers capable of doing duty had to take charge of the ship watch and watch. The weather also was constantly squally, with thunder, lightning, and heavy rain, and this kept us in the gulf till the 20th of July.

On the 28th, in latitude 32 degrees 30 minutes North and 74 degrees 19 minutes West, we parted company with the fleet, which was bound for England, while we made sail back to Jamaica.

I pass over this period of my adventurous existence more rapidly than I have described the former part of my sea-life, because it is full of painful recollections. I had often and often seen men struck down in battle, without allowing my feelings in any way to be agitated; but it went to my heart to see my brave shipmates carried off one after the other with fever, without being in any way able to relieve their sufferings, or to devise means to save them from death. That fever, "yellow jack" as we used to call it, is truly one of the most dreadful scourges of the West Indies. There is no avoiding him. All ranks are equally sufferers, for he picks off rich and poor alike, the strong and weak, the brave man and the coward. Still, I believe that the best way to prevent his attacks from proving fatal is to live moderately but well--not to be afraid, and to avoid exposure to rain and fogs. It is wiser to soak the clothes in salt water than to allow them to be wet with fresh and to dry on the back. However, it is very certain that, if a man does not play tricks with his constitution when he is young, as do so many young fellows in every variety of way when he is exposed to similar baneful influences, he will better be able to withstand them.

On the 17th of August we made the Island of Hispaniola. Two days after that, as I was walking the deck as officer of the watch, the look-out at the mast-head hailed to say that a sail was in sight. We were then off Cape Francois.

"Where away?" I asked.

"Right ahead to the westward!" was the answer.

"What does she look like?" inquired the captain, just then coming on deck.

"An English frigate, sir!" replied the look-out.

She might be, or she might be an enemy's cruiser, for I was aware that they had already some large ships fitted out. We were, as far as I knew to the contrary, still at peace with France and Spain. Weak as I was from the fever, (though I had got over it far more rapidly than I could have expected), I was so anxious to ascertain, as soon as possible, the character of the ship in sight, that I went aloft myself to watch her with my glass. As we drew near each other, Captain Bligh ordered the drum to beat to quarters, and the ship to be got ready for action. The nearer we got, the more convinced was I that the look-out was right, and that the stranger was an English frigate. In a short time she hoisted English colours, and soon afterwards made the private signal, by which we knew that she was his Majesty's frigate Minerva. On getting within hail we hove-to and exchanged civilities, which, as they cost nothing, are very current coin. We found that she had been out on a cruise for some time, but, like us, had not made any captures. Her captain was deploring his ill-luck.

"Better than being taken oneself," remarked Captain Bligh.

"No fear of that," was the answer; "I shall take very good care that no one--Frenchman, Spaniard or rebel--captures me. As for the two first, I don't suppose they will ever go to war again with us."

"Don't be too sure of that," said Captain Bligh. "A pleasant cruise to you, however, and a more fortunate one than we have had. We are bound back to Jamaica. I hope we shall make a quick passage there."

Such, as far as I can recollect them, were the parting words of the two captains. Scarcely had we lost sight of the Minerva than we fell in with a fleet of merchantmen from Saint Domingo. We agreed that, if there was but a war, what rich prizes they would prove, and we should, without difficulty, have been able to take the greater number of them. They sailed on their way, and we continued on our course for Jamaica. We reached Port Royal without any further adventure on the 28th of August. Scarcely had we dropped anchor than a boat from his Majesty's ship Niger boarded us.

"Grand news--glorious news!" cried a midshipman who came in her. We all asked him what he meant. "Why, there's war with France, and a rattling war it will be, too, from all accounts. All the ships here are getting ready for sea, and we shall pick up no end of prizes."

Captain Bligh stamped with his foot and turned round when he heard this. And well he might, when he recollected the rich prizes we had let slip through our fingers. A vessel came in directly after us, which brought the unwelcome intelligence that the Minerva had been taken by the French frigate Concord only nine hours after we had spoken her. Had we, therefore, only come up a little later, the tables might have been reversed, and we might have brought in the Concord as our prize. The Minerva was, as may be supposed, taken by surprise, her captain not believing that a war had broken out with France, or I am very sure that she would not have so easily become the prize of the enemy.

The circumstances I have mentioned were of course vexatious, but such is the fortune of war, and I believe the knowledge that we had now a foreign nation to contend with, instead of those whom we could not but look upon as countrymen, afforded unmitigated satisfaction throughout every ship in the British Navy. _

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