Read Maurice Tiernay, Soldier of Fortune Page 18


  CHAPTER XVIII. 'THE BAY OF BATHFRAN'

  Our voyage was very uneventful, but not without anxiety, since, to avoidthe English cruisers and the Channel fleet, we were obliged to holda southerly course for several days, making a great circuit before wecould venture to bear up for the place of our destination. The weatheralternated between light winds and a dead calm, which usually came onevery day at noon, and lasted till about sunset. As to me, there wasan unceasing novelty in everything about a ship; her mechanism, herdiscipline, her progress, furnished abundant occupation for all mythoughts, and I never wearied of acquiring knowledge of a theme sodeeply interesting. My intercourse with the naval officers, too,impressed me strongly in their favour in comparison with their comradesof the land service. In the former case, all was zeal, activity, andwatchfulness. The lookout never slumbered at his post; and an unceasinganxiety to promote the success of the expedition manifested itself inall their words and actions. This, of course, was all to be expected inthe discharge of the duties peculiarly their own; but I also looked forsomething which should denote preparation and forethought in theothers; yet nothing of the kind was to be seen. The expedition was neverdiscussed even as table-talk; and for anything that fell from the partyin conversation, it would have been impossible to say if our destinationwere China or Ireland. Not a book nor a map, not a pamphlet nor a paperthat bore upon the country whose destinies were about to be committed tous, ever appeared on the tables. A vague and listless doubt how longthe voyage might last was the extent of interest any one condescended toexhibit; but as to what was to follow after--what new chapter of eventsshould open when this first had closed, none vouchsafed to inquire.

  Even to this hour I am puzzled whether to attribute this strange conductto the careless levity of national character, or to a studied and well'got up' affectation. In all probability both influences were at work;while a third, not less powerful, assisted them--this was the grossignorance and shameless falsehood of some of the Irish leaders of theexpedition, whose boastful and absurd histories ended by disgustingevery one. Among the projects discussed at the time, I well remember onewhich was often gravely talked over, and the utter absurdity of whichcertainly struck none amongst us. This was no less than the intentionof demanding the West India Islands from England as an indemnity forthe past woes and bygone misgovernment of Ireland. If this seem barelycredible now, I can only repeat my faithful assurance of the fact, and Ibelieve that some of the memoirs of the time will confirm my assertion.

  The French officers listened to these and similar speculations withutter indifference; probably to many of them the geographical questionwas a difficulty that stopped any further inquiry, while others feltno further interest than what a campaign promised. All the enthusiasticnarratives, then, of high rewards and splendid trophies that awaited us,fell upon inattentive ears, and at last the word Ireland ceased to beheard amongst us. Play of various kinds occupied us when not engaged onduty. There was little discipline maintained on board, and none of thatstrictness which is the habitual rule of a ship-of-war. The lights weresuffered to burn during the greater part of the night in the cabins;gambling went on usually till daybreak; and the quarter-deck, that mostreverential of spots to every sailor-mind, was often covered by lounginggroups, who smoked, chatted, or played at chess, in all the cool apathyof men indifferent to its claim for respect.

  Now and then, the appearance of a strange sail afar off, or some dimobject in the horizon, would create a momentary degree of excitement andanxiety; but when the 'lookout' from the mast-head had proclaimed her a'schooner from Brest,' or a 'Spanish fruit-vessel,' the sense of dangerpassed away at once, and none ever reverted to the subject.

  With General Humbert I usually passed the greater part of eachforenoon--a distinction, I must confess, I owed to my skill as achess-player, a game of which he was particularly fond, and in which Ihad attained no small proficiency. I was too young and too unpractisedin the world to make my skill subordinate to my chiefs, and beat him atevery game with as little compunction as though he were only my equal,till, at last, vexed at his want of success, and tired of a contest thatoffered no vicissitude of fortune, he would frequently cease playing tochat over the events of the time, and the chances of the expedition.

  It was with no slight mixture of surprise and dismay that I now detectedhis utter despair of all success, and that he regarded the whole as acomplete forlorn-hope. He had merely taken the command to involve theFrench Government in the cause, and so far compromise the nationalcharacter that all retreat would be impossible. We shall be all cutto pieces or taken prisoners the day after we land,' was his constantexclamation, 'and then, but not till then, will they think seriously inFrance of a suitable expedition.' There was no heroism, still less wasthere any affectation of recklessness in this avowal. By nature he was arough, easy, good-tempered fellow, who liked his profession less forits rewards than for its changeful scenes and moving incidents--his onepredominating feeling being that France should give rule to the wholeworld, and the principles of her Revolution he everywhere pre-eminent.To promote this consummation the loss of an army was of little moment.Let the cause but triumph in the end, and the cost was not worthfretting about.

  Next to this sentiment was his hatred of England, and all that wasEnglish. Treachery, falsehood, pride, avarice, grasping covetousness,and unscrupulous aggression, were the characteristics by which hedescribed the nation; and he made the little knowledge he had gleanedfrom newspapers and intercourse so subservient to this theory, that Iwas an easy convert to his opinion; so that, ere long, my compassion forthe wrongs of Ireland was associated with the most profound hatred ofher oppressors.

  To be sure, I should have liked the notion that we ourselves were tohave some more active share in the liberation of Irishmen than the mereact of heralding another and more successful expedition; but even inthis thought there was romantic self-devotion, not unpleasing to themind of a boy; but, strange enough, I was the only one who felt it.

  The first sight of land to one on sea is always an event of uncommoninterest; but how greatly increased is the feeling when that land isto be the scene of a perilous exploit--the cradle of his ambition, orperhaps his grave! All my speculations about the expedition--all mydaydreams of success, or my anxious hours of dark forebodings--neverbrought the matter so palpably before me as the dim outline of a distantheadland, which, I was told, was part of the Irish coast.

  This was on the 17th of August, but on the following day we stoodfurther out to sea again, and saw no more of it.

  The three succeeding ones we continued to beat up slowly to thenorthward against a head wind and a heavy sea; but on the evening ofthe 21st the sun went down in mellow splendour, and a light air from thesouth springing up, the sailors pronounced a most favourable change ofweather--a prophecy that a starry night and a calm sea soon confirmed.

  The morning of the 22nd broke splendidly--a gentle breeze from thesouth-west slightly curled the blue waves, and filled the canvas ofthe three frigates, as in close order they sailed along under the tallcliffs of Ireland. We were about three miles from the shore, on whichnow every telescope and glass was eagerly directed. As the lightand fleeting clouds of early morning passed away we could descry theoutlines of the bold coast, indented with many a bay and creek, whilerocky promontories and grassy slopes succeeded each other in endlessvariety of contrast. Towns, or even villages, we could see none--a fewsmall wretched-looking hovels were dotted over the hills, and here andthere a thin wreath of blue smoke bespoke habitation, but, save thesesigns, there was an air of loneliness and solitude which increased thesolemn feelings of the scene.

  All these objects of interest, however, soon gave way before anotherto the contemplation of which every eye was turned. This was a smallfishing-boat, which, with a low mast and ragged piece of canvas, wasseen standing boldly out for us: a red handkerchief was fastened to astick in the stern, as if for a signal, and on our shortening sail,to admit of her overtaking us, the ensign was lowered as thoug
h inacknowledgment of our meaning.

  The boat was soon alongside, and we now perceived that her crewconsisted of a man and a boy, the former of whom, a powerfully built,loose fellow, of about five-and-forty, dressed in a light-blue friezejacket and trousers, adroitly caught at the cast of rope thrown out tohim, and having made fast his skiff, clambered up the ship's side atonce, gaily, as though he were an old friend coming to welcome us.

  'Is he a pilot?' asked the officer of the watch, addressing one of theIrish officers.

  'No; he's only a fisherman, but he knows the coast perfectly, and saysthere is deep water within twenty fathoms of the shore.'

  An animated conversation in Irish now ensued between the peasant andCaptain Madgett, during which a wondering and somewhat impatient groupstood around, speedily increased by the presence of General Humberthimself and his staff.

  'He tells me, general,' said Madgett, 'that we are in the Bay ofKillala, a good and safe anchorage, and, during the southerly winds, thebest on all the coast.'

  'What news has he from the shore?' asked Humbert sharply, as if the careof the ship was a very secondary consideration.

  'They have been expecting us with the greatest impatience, general; hesays the most intense anxiety for our coming is abroad.'

  'What of the people themselves? Where are the national forces? Have theyany headquarters near this? Eh, what says he? What is that? Why does helaugh?' asked Humbert, in impatient rapidity, as he watched the changesin the peasant's face.

  'He was laughing at the strange sound of a foreign language, so odd andsingular to his ears,' said Madgett; but for all his readiness, a slightflushing of the cheek showed that he was ill at ease.

  'Well, but what of the Irish forces? Where are they?'

  For some minutes the dialogue continued in an animated strain betweenthe two; the vehement tone and gestures of each bespeaking what soundedat least like altercation; and Madgett at last turned half angrily away,saying, 'The fellow is too ignorant; he actually knows nothing of whatis passing before his eyes.'

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  'Is there no one else on board can speak this _barargouinage_?' criedHumbert, in anger.

  'Yes, general, I can interrogate him,' cried a young lad named Conolly,who had only joined us on the day before we sailed.

  And now as the youth addressed the fisherman in a few rapid sentences,the other answered as quickly, making a gesture with his hands thatimplied grief, or even despair.

  'We can interpret that for ourselves,' broke in Humbert; 'he is tellingyou that the game is up.'

  'Exactly so, general; he says that the insurrection has been completelyput down, that the Irish forces are scattered or disbanded, and all theleaders taken.'

  'The fellow is just as likely to be an English spy,' said Madgett, in awhisper; but Humbert's gesture of impatience showed how little trust hereposed in the allegation.

  'Ask him what English troops are quartered in this part of the country,'said the general.

  'A few militia, and two squadrons of dragoons,' was the prompt reply.

  'No artillery?'

  'None.'

  'Is there any rumour of our coming abroad, or have the frigates beenseen?' asked Humbert.

  'They were seen last night from the church steeple of Killala, general,'said Conolly, translating, 'but believed to be English.'

  'Come; that is the best news he has brought us yet,' said Humbert,laughing; 'we shall at least surprise them a little. Ask him what men ofrank or consequence live in the neighbourhood, and how are they affectedtowards the expedition?'

  A few words, and a low dry laugh, made all the peasant's reply.

  'Eh, what says he?' asked Humbert.

  'He says, sir, that, except a Protestant bishop, there's nothing of therank of gentry here.'

  'I suppose we need scarcely expect his blessing on our efforts,' saidHumbert, with a hearty laugh. 'What is he saying now?--what is helooking at?'

  'He says that we are now in the very best anchorage of the bay,' saidConolly, 'and that on the whole coast there's not a safer spot.'

  A brief consultation now took place between the general and navalofficers, and in a few seconds the word was given to take in all sailand anchor.

  'I wish I could speak to that honest fellow myself,' said Humbert, ashe stood watching the fisherman, who, with a peasant curiosity, had nowapproached the mast, and was passing his fingers across the blades ofthe cutlasses as they stood in the sword-rack.

  'Sharp enough for the English, eh?' cried Humbert, in French, but witha gesture that seemed at once intelligible. A dry nod of the head gaveassent to the remark.

  'If I understand him aright,' said Humbert, in a half-whisper toConolly, 'we are as little expected by our friends as by our enemies;and that there is little or no force in arms among the Irish.'

  'There are plenty ready to fight, he says, sir, but none accustomed todiscipline.'

  A gesture, half contemptuous, was all Humbert's reply, and he now turnedaway and walked the deck alone and in silence. Meanwhile the bustle andmovements of the crew continued, and soon the great ships, their sailsall coiled, lay tranquilly at anchor in a sea without a ripple.

  'A boat is coming out from the shore, general,' whispered the lieutenanton duty.

  'Ask the fisherman if he knows it.'

  Conolly drew the peasant's attention to the object, and the man, afterlooking steadily for a few seconds, became terribly agitated.

  'What is it, man--can't you tell who it is?' asked Conolly.

  But although so composed before, so ready with all his replies, heseemed now totally unmanned--his frank and easy features being struckwith the signs of palpable terror. At last, and with an effort thatbespoke all his fears, he muttered--' 'Tis the king's boat is coming,and 'tis the collector's on board of her!'

  'Is that all?' cried Conolly, laughing, as he translated the reply tothe general.

  'Won't you say that I'm a prisoner, sir; won't you tell them that you"took" me?' said the fisherman, in an accent of fervent entreaty, foralready his mind anticipated the casualty of a failure, and what mightbetide him afterwards; but no one now had any care for him or hisfortunes--all was in preparation to conceal the national character ofthe ships. The marines were ordered below, and all others whose uniformsmight betray their country, while the English colours floated from everymast-head.

  General Humbert, with Serasin and two others, remained on the poop-deck,where they continued to walk, apparently devoid of any peculiar interestor anxiety in the scene. Madgett alone betrayed agitation at thismoment, his pale face was paler than ever, and there seemed to me a kindof studious care in the way he covered himself up with his cloak, sothat not a vestige of his uniform could be seen.

  The boat now came close under our lee, and Conolly being ordered tochallenge her in English, the collector, standing up in the stern,touched his hat, and announced his rank. The gangway-ladder wasimmediately lowered, and three gentlemen ascended the ship's side andwalked aft to the poop. I was standing near the bulwark at the time,watching the scene with intense interest. As General Humbert stood alittle in advance of the rest, the collector, probably taking him forthe captain, addressed him with some courteous expressions of welcome,and was proceeding to speak of the weather, when the general gentlystopped him by asking if he spoke French.

  I shall never forget the terror of face that question evoked. At first,looking at his two companions, the collector turned his eyes to thegaff, where the English flag was flying; but still unable to utter aword, he stood like one entranced.

  'You have been asked if you can speak French, sir?' said Conolly, at asign from the general.

  'No--very little--very badly--not at all; but isn't this--am I not onboard of----'

  'Can none of them speak French?' said Humbert shortly.

  'Yes, sir,' said a young man on the collector's right; 'I can makemyself intelligible in that language, although no great proficient.'

  'Who are you, monsieur?--are you a civilian?'
asked Humbert.

  'Yes, sir. I am the son of the Bishop of Killala, and this younggentleman is my brother.'

  'What is the amount of the force in this neighbourhood?'

  'You will pardon me, sir,' said the youth, 'if I ask, first, who it isputs this question, and under what circumstances I am expected to answerit.'

  'All frank and open, sir,' said Humbert, good-humouredly. 'I 'm theGeneral Humbert, commanding the army for the liberation of Ireland--somuch for your first question. As to your second one, I believe that ifyou have any concern for yourself, or those belonging to you, you willfind that nothing will serve your interest so much as truth and plaindealing.'

  'Fortunately, then, for me,' said the youth, laughing, 'I cannotbetray my king's cause, for I know nothing, nothing whatever, about themovement of troops. I seldom go ten miles from home, and have not beeneven at Ballina since last winter.'

  'Why so cautious about your information, then, sir,' broke in Serasinroughly, 'since you have none to give?'

  'Because I had some to receive, sir, and was curious to know where I wasstanding,' said the young man boldly.

  While these few sentences were being interchanged, Madgett hadlearned from the collector that, except a few companies of militia andfencibles, the country was totally unprovided with troops; but he alsolearned that the people were so crest-fallen and subdued in courage fromthe late failure of the rebellion, that it was very doubtful whetherour coming would arouse them to another effort. This information,particularly the latter part of it, Madgett imparted to Humbert at once,and I thought, by his manner, and the eagerness with which he spoke,that he seemed to use all his powers to dissuade the general from alanding; at least I overheard him more than once say--'Had we beenfarther north, sir-----'

  Humbert quickly stopped him by the words--

  'And what prevents us, when we have landed, sir, in extending our linenorth'ard?--the winds cannot surely master us, when we have our feeton the sward. Enough of all this; let these gentlemen be placed insecurity, and none have access to them without my orders. Make signalfor the commanding-officers to come on board here. We've had too much ofspeculation--a little action now will be more profitable.'

  'So, we are prisoners, it seems!' said the young man who spoke French,as he moved away with the others, who, far more depressed in spirit,hung their heads in silence, as they descended between decks.

  Scarcely was the signal for a council of war seen from the mast-head,when the different boats might be descried stretching across the baywith speed. And now all were assembled in General Humbert's cabin whoserank and station in the service entitled them to the honour of beingconsulted.

  To such of us as held inferior 'grade,' the time passed tediously enoughas we paced the deck, now turning from the aspect of the silent andseemingly uninhabited cliffs along shore to listen if no sign betokenedthe breaking up of the council; nor were we without serious fears thatthe expedition would be abandoned altogether. This suspicion originatedwith some of the Irish themselves, who, however confident of success,and boastful of their country's resources before we sailed, now made noscruple of averring that everything was the exact reverse of what theyhad stated, for that the people were dispirited, the national forcesdisbanded, neither arms, money, nor organisation anywhere--in fact, thata more hopeless scheme could not be thought of than the attempt, andthat its result could not fail to be defeat and ruin to all concerned.

  Shall I own that the bleak and lonely aspect of the hills along shore,the dreary character of the landscape, the almost deathlike stillnessof the scene, aided these gloomy impressions, and made it seem as if wewere about to try our fortune on some desolate spot, without one look ofencouragement, or one word of welcome to greet us? The sight of even anenemy's force would have been a relief to this solitude--the stir andmovement of a rival army would have given spirit to our daring, andnerved our courage, but there was something inexpressibly sad in thisunbroken monotony.

  A few tried to jest upon the idea of liberating a land that had noinhabitants--the emancipation of a country without people; but evenFrench flippancy failed to be witty on a theme so linked with all ourhopes and fears, and at last a dreary silence fell upon all, and wewalked the deck without speaking, waiting and watching for the result ofthat deliberation which already had lasted above four mortal hours.

  Twice was the young man who spoke French summoned to the cabin, but,from the briefness of his stay, apparently with little profit; andnow the day began to wane, and the tall cliffs threw their lengthenedshadows over the still waters of the bay, and yet nothing was resolvedon. To the quiet and respectful silence of expectation, now succeededa low and half-subdued muttering of discontent; groups of five or sixtogether were seen along the deck, talking with eagerness and animation,and it was easy to see that whatever prudential or cautious reasonsdictated to the leaders, their arguments found little sympathy withthe soldiers of the expedition. I almost began to fear that if adetermination to abandon the exploit were come to, a mutiny might breakout, when my attention was drawn off by an order to accompany ColonelGharost on shore to reconnoitre. This at least looked like business, andI jumped into the small boat with alacrity.

  With the speed of four oars stoutly plied, we skimmed along the calmsurface, and soon saw ourselves close in to the shore. Some little timewas spent in looking for a good place to land, for although not theslightest air of wind was blowing, the long swell of the Atlantic brokeupon the rocks with a noise like thunder. At last we shot into a littlecreek with a shelving gravelly beach, and completely concealed by thetall rocks on every side; and now we sprang out, and stood upon Irishground!