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Three Midshipmen

<h3>Chapter Twenty Two.</h3> <h4>Prisoners.</h4> Battles and wounds, death and destruction, and all the other concomitants of warfare, may be interesting matters to read about, but the reality is very far from pleasant or desirable. Even Jack Rogers and Paddy Adair could not help coming to this conclusion during the night they spent off Lagos, surrounded by their wounded, and dead, and dying companions. They were also not a little anxious about Murray, of whom they could obtain no information. The stars kept shining forth from the dark sky, the surface of the river was smooth as glass, on either side around them was the squadron of steamers and boats, while in the distance could be observed the lights of the black city, from which every now and then a flash might be seen as a negro took it into his head to fire off his musket, or perhaps, while handling it, let it explode unintentionally. At length daylight returned. Directly everybody was on the alert, but as yet no signal was made to recommence the attack. Whatever heroes of romance might have done, modern warriors require rest and refreshment, so the men set to work to cook and eat their breakfasts. While this was going on, a boat was seen approaching the squadron. She was the gig Murray commanded. He himself was on board. His shipmates warmly welcomed him. “Where have you been? What have you been about? We feared you were lost,” exclaimed several voices. “It is a somewhat long story,” he answered. “After the retreat was ordered yesterday I saw some negroes pulling off in a canoe to the northward of the island, and not thinking of consequences, I pursued them. Away we went at good speed, but they paddled faster. It did not occur to me at the time that they were making their escape from the town. When I looked astern I found that our own boats had gone to the southward, and that between me and them was a large body of native canoes. To attempt to pass them would have been madness, so I pulled on up the river. The blacks were so engaged in the fight, that I was not perceived. I therefore pulled up the stream till it was dark, and then lay hid for some time to rest and refresh my men. I bethought me that having got thus far, I would employ myself profitably. I therefore dropped an anchor, and let the men take a couple of hours’ sleep; then once more getting under weigh, I dropped down, sounding as I came, and passed right round to the west of the island. When abreast of it I saw dark objects moving across the channel, and found that they were canoes crossing and recrossing, and I have no doubt carrying off household goods and other property, and perhaps some of the inhabitants were making their escape. At all events, it looks as if the natives were not very sanguine of success. I had to wait till I had an opportunity of threading my way between them, and it was only just at daybreak that I was able to get clear. I must now go and make my report to the captain.” Not long after this the signal was given to attack, and the whole squadron was quickly in movement. There was not a man engaged who was not resolved to redeem, if possible, the loss of the previous day. The boats, as before, pulled round to the northward, where the houses of the king and his prime ministers, as well as of the European slave-dealers, were situated, while the steamers took up positions on either side of the town. There was no mistake this time as to what was to be done. The sad loss of life which occurred on the previous day arose, it must be remembered, entirely in consequence of the grounding of the steamer. This made it necessary to land in the face of a hot fire and to storm the stockades, while it also brought about the subsequent disasters. The signal was given and the steamers and boats opened a steady and well-directed fire, which soon began to tell. House after house was seen to be in flames. The blacks returned it, but with very different spirits to the previous day. They had fancied after the apparent defeat the English had suffered on the previous day, they would not again venture to attack them. Steadily the boats fired away. “Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!” A loud cheer ran through the line. A shot had entered the house of Tappis, Kosoko’s prime minister, and set it on fire. He was one of the most determined supporters of the slave-trade, and the chief instigator of the first attack on the boats of the squadron. Soon after the gun in a battery below his house was capsized, while the men working it were driven out by a well-directed rocket sent among them. House after house now caught fire. Most of the non-combatants had before this fled, the rest were next seen hurriedly making their escape with cries of terror and dismay. Still the garrison, with a bravery worthy of a better cause, held out. The firing on both sides became more rapid, but the English redoubled their exertions. Showers of shot, and shell, and rockets were flying into the devoted town. Suddenly a fearful roar was heard. Earth and stones, and fragments of timber mixed with human forms, were seen to rise up into the air. One of the enemy’s chief magazines had exploded. From that moment the conflagration extended more rapidly and fiercely than before, till the whole city appeared to be in a blaze, the flames rising up in ruddy pyramids and supporting a dark canopy overhead—a fit funeral pall for those who had fallen in the strife. There could be no longer any doubt that the fate of Lagos was decided. A broad creek ran through part of the town. This stopped the flames. Kosoko’s house was still standing. A boat was directed especially to destroy it; but the commander of the expedition, influenced by truly Christian motives, resolved, before doing more injury to the town, to give Kosoko an opportunity of capitulating. The next day was Sunday. He resolved, should the blacks commit no act of hostility, to make it also a day of rest. Recalling all the boats, he sent in therefore a flag of truce, by a friendly chief, to Kosoko, allowing him till Monday morning to consider his proposals. Once more, therefore, on Saturday evening, the squadron retired from before the town; but very different were the feelings of those engaged from what they had been on Friday. Now success appeared certain, then a heavy loss and defeat had been the termination of their day’s labour. Still, as the three midshipmen met on board Jack’s boat, their conversation was far sadder than it was wont to be. So probably was that of the commanders of the expedition. “To think that we should have spent all this time before a town fortified only by slaving rascals, and manned by blacks, and after all not yet to be masters of it!” exclaimed Jack, with some bitterness in his tone. “It comes very much of the common English fault of despising our enemies,” observed Murray. “We are apt to forget that though fellows have black or tawny skins, they have got brains in their heads.” “Still we don’t often find enemies who have the pluck of Britons,” said Adair. “No, and that is the reason why we are ultimately so generally successful,” answered Murray. “But that does not prevent us from frequently, in the first place, meeting with defeat and disgrace, and losing numberless valuable lives. I do not mean to say that what happened on Friday could have been avoided, but it is very sad to think of the poor fellows who have lost their lives, as well as of the many now suffering from their wounds; so we won’t talk more about the matter.” That night passed like the former ones, and Sunday was gliding tranquilly away, spent in most instances by the crews on board the vessels and boats, after the example of their commander, as a Sunday should be passed, when it was ascertained that the usurper and his prime minister, and the greater number of his troops, had abandoned the city. The English commander, therefore, sent to direct the negro auxiliaries who had accompanied King Akitoye from Abeokuta to escort him into the city, and to install him in his office. This was done, and they took possession of the houses which had escaped the conflagration, while a small portion only of the British forces entered that evening and spiked the guns in the chief batteries turned towards the river. The next morning fifty-two guns were destroyed or embarked. Murray was among those who went on shore. In his letter home he made the following remarks:— “The greater part of the stronghold of slavery is now little more than a heap of ashes; but enough of the works remain to show the cunning methods devised by the blacks for entrapping us into ambushes had we assaulted it. In truth, the place is a great deal stronger than we had any notion of. One thing I must say, that, in spite of the reverses we at first experienced, every officer and man engaged in the affair did his utmost, and behaved as British seamen always should behave; and it must be the consolation of the relations and friends of the gallant fellows who lost their lives, that a very important work has been performed, and that the capture of this stronghold of the slave-trade will prove one of the severest blows that hateful traffic has ever experienced. It has done much also, I trust, to advance the cause of religion and civilisation in Africa, and will help, I hope, to wipe away the dark stain which is attached to many of the so-called Christian nations of the world. Akitoye is now installed King of Lagos. He professes great friendship for the English, as well as for the people of Abeokuta. If he proves the stern enemy of the slave-trade and the true friend of Christianity, we shall not have fought in vain.” On searching for the Spanish and Portuguese slave-dealers, by whom the Lagos people had been trained to arms, none were to be found. They had fled, and as their property was completely destroyed, they have never since returned. The midshipmen heard that their old acquaintance Don Diogo was one of those who had establishments there, but they could not hear anything of him, nor what had become of the felucca, on board of which he was last seen. One thing was very certain, that his love for the English generally, or for them in particular, could not have been increased when he found that all his property in Lagos had been destroyed. The squadron at length once more put to sea, and Lagos has ever since virtually been under the jurisdiction of the British Government, who retain it for the purpose of keeping in check the traffic in slaves. The frigate had been some weeks at sea before she at length fell in with the Archer, which Murray had then to rejoin. All three of the midshipmen were beginning to look forward to the time when they might hope once more to return to England. Still they were perfectly content, till the time arrived, steadily to go on in the performance of their duty. When Murray left the frigate he took with him his two parrots, Polly and Nelly, but Queerface remained, and Adair declared that under his judicious system of education he had become one of the most learned and sagacious of monkeys. He said that it reminded him very much of Don Diogo, and so he and Jack amused themselves by rigging him out in a dress similar to that in which they had seen the old Don appear. The imitation was so good that the moment Queerface sprang up on deck the likeness was recognised by all who saw him. When Adair went away in boats he usually took Queerface with him to afford amusement to his men. The frigate had been for some time cruising on to the southward, without meeting with any success, when, there being every appearance of calm weather, Captain Lascelles ordered away two of the boats to cruise in search of slavers, one to the northward and the other to the southward. Jack, to his great satisfaction, got command of the pinnace, and Adair, who would otherwise have remained on board, volunteered to accompany him with Queerface, to make sport for the crew. Dick Needham was also of the party. Away they pulled to the northward, and before sunset they were out of sight of the ship. “We must have a prize somehow or other,” cried Adair; “it will never do to return without one.” “Just such a one as you and I took in the Mediterranean when we first went to sea,” said Jack, laughing. “However, we’ll do our best: what do you say to it, Master Queerface?” There sat the monkey in the stern-sheets, dressed in a broad-brimmed straw hat, nankeen trousers, a light blue jacket, and a red neckcloth, just as Don Diogo had appeared when Jack had last seen him. Queerface seemed in no way to disapprove of the hat and jacket, but his lower garments at times somewhat puzzled him; however, he altogether behaved himself very well. There was so little wind that Jack did not even step his masts. He thus hoped to get close to any slaver, should he see one, without being discovered. He had his trusty rifle ready, and from frequently practising he was even a better shot than before. Adair had picked up a very fair rifle at Sierra Leone, but he could not pretend to equal Jack as a shot. They both well knew that they could not hope to take a prize without exerting themselves, and they were, therefore, constantly standing up and looking about on all sides in search of a sail. They were off a part of the coast whence numerous cargoes of slaves were still embarked. A short time before sunset they made the land. Soon after this, as Jack was standing up on the stern-sheets, his eye fell on a white spark glistening brightly in the oblique rays of the departing luminary. He brought his glass to bear on the subject. Adair took a look at it, and so did Needham. They all agreed that the sail in sight was a square topsail schooner standing off the land. “Then she must pass close to us,” cried Jack. “We’ll be on the watch for her.” Another look they all took before the sun sank below the horizon confirmed them in this opinion. The last few hours of daylight were spent by the crew in examining their pistols, in seeing that their cutlasses were ready at hand, and everything prepared for boarding at a moment’s notice. All hands then turned to and had a good supper, after which, as they said, they were up to anything. The boat floated quietly on the almost calm waters, for though the men lay on their oars, they did not pull a stroke. Not a word was spoken above the lowest whisper. There were sounds, for the ocean itself is never, even in a calm, altogether silent. Ever and anon there was a splash, sometimes caused by the boat as the smooth undulations rose up as it seemed from the depths below, and made her roll lazily for an instant from side to side, or some fish rose to the surface with wide-open mouths, or leaped up into the air, or one of the monsters of the unfathomed waters came to have a gaze at the strange thing which floated over their liquid home. A slight mist came over the land with the night air, damp and unwholesome enough, but Jack and Terence little regarded that point, as it contributed much to conceal the boat from the approaching stranger, though they had little doubt that her more lofty sails would easily be seen above it. Time passed on. They calculated that the schooner must be drawing near them. Once more Jack stood up. “There she is,” he whispered, as he sank into his seat. “Away to the northward. Out oars, lads, as gently as possible. In ten minutes we shall be alongside of her.” The oars had been muffled, and with the long, steady strokes made by the men, scarcely a splash was heard. They might well hope to be up to the stranger without being discovered. On glided the boat. It was an exciting moment. The sails of a large topsail schooner rose up out of the mist before them. Jack and Adair thought they saw a little beyond her the pointed tops of another craft slowly moving over the bank of fog. If they should both prove enemies there would be fearful odds against them. They numbered only eleven people in all—eight pulling, Needham, and themselves. Still they did not hesitate. “We’ll take one, and then be ready for the other,” whispered Jack. Adair nodded his assent. Still discretion might have been the best part of valour in this case. “That further craft is a felucca,” again whispered Jack. “I can see the tops of her lateen sails above the mist. Perhaps she’s the old Don’s craft. Never mind, we’ll be ready for him.” In two minutes more they were close up to the schooner. No notice had hitherto been taken of them by those on board. They flattered themselves that they were not perceived. They dashed alongside. “Who are you? who are you?” said a fierce voice in Spanish. “Speak, speak, who are you?” “A boat of her Britannic Majesty’s ship Ranger,” answered Jack, who understood what was said. “Heave-to, I want to come on board you.” He said this as the boat was hooking on, and he and Terence, followed by their men, were about to spring on deck, when again the same person who had before hailed, sang out, “Heave, heave, sink the boat and the scoundrel heretics. Have no mercy on them.” At that instant down came half a dozen round shots into the bottom of the boat, rattling through the planks, while pistols were fired in their faces, and pikes were thrust at them, and swords flourished above their heads. They were prepared for opposition, so, in spite of this, cutlass in hand, they sprang up the side of the vessel without much difficulty, as her bulwarks were low, and attacked their assailants. Jack had time to seize his rifle, for he saw the water rushing into his boat, and he felt that she was sinking under their feet. Followed by Queerface, who, through fright, chattered away louder than ever, the English seamen gained the deck of the slaver. Such undoubtedly she was, if not worse. Jack saw that they had nearly taken her by surprise, for but few men were at that moment on deck; but others, some only half dressed, were rushing out of both the fore and after cabins. The first who had received them made so bold a stand that time was allowed for the whole of the Spanish crew to assemble. They far outnumbered the English. Still the gallant young midshipmen and their followers fought on undaunted. Suddenly Queerface, who had hitherto kept behind the rest, jumped up into the rigging and looked over them. “Don Diogo! Don Diogo!” cried several of the slaver’s crew; “how comes he to be with these men? There must be some mistake.” “Quacko—Quacko—Quacko,” cried Queerface, and scud up the rigging out of harm’s way. The Spaniards could not make it out. The delay, however, was an advantage to the English, as it enabled them to cast their eyes around and see the state of affairs. The greater number of their enemies were forward, so Jack and most of his party sprang on in that direction, hoping to dispose of them first. The fellows stood their ground, firing their pistols and flourishing their swords, and two of the English were shot, and Jack got an ugly cut across his shoulder. Still he pressed on, and compelled at length the Spaniards to take refuge in their cabin under the topgallant forecastle. Meantime Terence was keeping the slaver’s captain and officers in check, but he had lost a man, who was struck to the deck, and Needham too was wounded. Matters were going very hard with Jack and his followers. Still ten British seamen might well have hoped to conquer the whole of a slaver’s crew. The fight had now become desperate. The Spanish captain had probably all his fortune embarked in the venture, Jack and his party had to struggle for life and liberty. Again and again they made desperate rushes at the afterpart of the vessel, and at length they pushed the Spaniards so hard that they almost drove them overboard, when two sails were seen emerging from out of the fog and gliding up alongside. In another instant, not Queerface, but the veritable Don Diogo himself was seen to spring on board, followed by a dozen or more villainous-looking ruffians. “What’s all this? what’s all this?” his harsh croaking voice was heard shouting in Spanish. “Down with the English pirates, down with them!” Hearing the cry, the Spaniards, who had taken refuge forward, rushed out again, and though Jack called to Terence to fight to the last, and that they would sell their lives dearly, they found themselves literally borne down by numbers, and their cutlasses whirled out of their hands. “We have done our best, Paddy, we can do no more,” exclaimed Jack, as he and Terence found themselves standing side by side, with their hands secured and lashed to the mainmast. Needham and the rest of the people who were able to move were treated in the same way. “Why, my friend, you were very nearly captured by these picaroons,” they heard Don Diogo remark to the other Spanish captain. “But where is a lantern?—let me see whom we have caught.” The lantern was brought, and the Don came round and held it up to their faces. “Ha! ha!” he exclaimed, with a most sardonic grin. “Your obedient humble servant, gentlemen. I told you we should meet again, and we have met. What do you expect after all the tricks you have played me?” Neither Jack nor Terence deigned a reply. “Ah, speak, pirates,” he exclaimed, stamping furiously on the deck; “the yard-arm, a sharp knife, or a walk on the plank? Whichever you like. I grant you your choice.” Still neither of the midshipmen would reply. What was the use of so doing? “We must kill every one of them,” exclaimed the Don, speaking in Spanish, turning to the other captain. “I have a long account to settle with these English generally, and these lads especially. They have been the cause of nearly all my losses. They cannot repay me, but I can take my revenge, and that is something.” “Certainly, certainly, my friend,” answered the other: “you can hang, or drown, or shoot them, as you think fit. It is a matter of perfect indifference to me.” These were the last words poor Jack heard as the two worthies entered the cabin. “We are in a bad case, Jack, I am afraid,” said Adair, “though I could not exactly make out what the fellows said.” “It was not pleasant,” answered Jack, briefly. “Terence, have you ever thought of dying?” “Yes, I have; that is to say, I have known that I was running many a chance of being knocked on the head or finished in some way or other,” answered Adair, with some little hesitation. “Then, Terence, my dear fellow, let us look at it as an awful reality, which is about speedily to overtake us,” said Jack solemnly. “These fellows threaten to at once take our lives; depend on it, they will put their threats into execution.” “It is hard to bear, Jack dear,” replied Adair; “I am so sorry for you and for all your brothers and sisters at home. I don’t think mine care much for me; that’s one comfort. But I say, I wish that the blackguards would let us have our arms free, that we might still have a fight for our lives.” “Don’t speak thus, Terence,” said Jack, who was almost overcome by Adair’s allusion to his family. “Don’t let us think of the past, but keep our thoughts fixed on the future world we are about to enter, and think how very unfit we are of ourselves for the glorious place we would wish to go to.” Terence listened, and responded in the same tone to his messmate. Much more they said to the same effect, nor did they forget to offer up their prayers for preservation from the terrible danger which threatened them. Then, with the calmness of Christians and brave men, they awaited the doom they believed prepared for them. Such consolation as they could give also they offered to the survivors of their crew. Two poor fellows had been killed outright; another was bleeding to death on the deck, nor would the brutal Spaniards offer him the slightest assistance, while they prevented his shipmates from giving it him. Jack himself was suffering also much pain from his wound, while he felt so faint from loss of blood that he could scarcely support himself. He had told Needham that the Spaniards threatened to kill them all. “Well, sir, they may do it if they dare, but they will be sure to be caught some day or other,” answered Needham. “I wouldn’t change places with them. We shall die having done our duty; they will be hung up like dogs. If I knew their lingo I would tell them so.” The English were not long left in quiet. So many of the Spaniards had been wounded that some time was spent by them in bandaging up their hurts, and as soon as this was done they came on deck eager to wreak their vengeance on their captive foes. They now came about them with their long knives, flourishing them before their eyes, and pretending to stab at them. Some indeed, more brutal than the rest, actually stuck their knives into their flesh, but though blood was drawn, the seamen generally disdained even to utter a word, though one or two said, “I’ll tell you what, you villains, if I can get my fists at liberty, I’ll give it you.” At length Don Diogo and the captain of the schooner came out from the cabin. They had apparently made up their minds what to do. The latter gave orders to reeve ropes to each yard-arm, while planks were got up and placed over the sides, secured on board by lanyards. On these being cut, of course the end of the plank overboard would instantly sink down and let the person standing on it into the water. Don Diogo had, it seemed, taken upon himself the direction of the executions. Jack and Adair had supposed that the Spaniards would wait till the morning to kill them, but the little Don evidently had no wish to delay his vengeance. “Cast the prisoners loose, and bring them aft,” he cried out. “Now, you scoundrel heretics, what have you got to say for yourselves? Nothing? I thought so. Well, I will be merciful. You shall choose the mode of your death. What shall it be—will you be hung or walk the plank? There are plenty of sharks alongside who will be happy to entomb you either way.” No one replied to this address. “Speak, you heretics,” he cried, stamping with rage. The two midshipmen cast their eyes about them to assure themselves that what was taking place was a reality; the whole scene appeared so like some horrid dream that they could scarcely believe it true. As they looked up they discovered that a strong breeze had sprung up, and that the vessel was moving rapidly through the water. The deck was crowded with seamen, many of whom held lanterns, so that the whole ship was lighted. “It is time to begin,” cried the Don. “Come, as you will not choose for yourselves, I must choose for you. Here, seize that lad and run him up to the mainyard-arm.” He pointed at Adair. Several of the ruffian crew rushed forward and seized poor Terence, and dragged him up to the rope which hung from the yard-arm. They were about to take hold of it to adjust it round Adair’s neck, when down by it came gliding an apparition which, in the uncertain light cast by the lanterns aloft, looked so like old Don Diogo himself, that the superstitious Spaniards, believing that it was his wraith or ghost, let go the rope and sprang back to the other side of the vessel. The old Don was not less astonished than the rest, but not exactly recognising himself, it occurred to him that some spirit of evil had come on board to watch his proceedings. Queerface, meantime, for the apparition was no other than him, seeing the confusion he had created, shinned up the rope again, and on reaching the yard-arm, finding it slack, hauled it up after him, and there he sat chattering away and wondering what the strangers were going to do to his master. The wicked old Don, though astonished at first, was not altogether overcome, and soon recovering himself, began to get an idea of the true state of the case. Once more he ordered the crew to go on with their cruel work, but no one would venture aloft to overhaul the whip, and Queerface showed no disposition to help them. The Don began to swear and stamp with rage, calling them all by certain uncomplimentary epithets, in which the Spanish language is so rich. The crew swore and abused him in return. In the midst of the confusion a voice hailed them through a speaking-trumpet. “What schooner is that? Heave-to, or I will fire into you.” “We are in the hands of a set of bloody pirates. I’m Jack Rogers,” sang out Jack, at the top of his voice. Never had he sung out louder. “Take that for speaking,” exclaimed the little Don, levelling a pistol at his head. He pulled the trigger. It missed fire, and before he could again cock the lock, Needham, who had been working his hands free, sprang aft, and with a blow of his fist levelled him with the deck. It was the signal for the Spaniards to set upon them, and they would all have been cut down, but the next instant a loud crash was heard, and the dark hull of a man-of-war brig, with her taunt masts and wide spread of canvas, was seen ranging up alongside. The next instant twenty or more stout English seamen, led by Alick Murray, came pouring down on the slaver’s deck. The brig which had thus providentially fallen in with them was the Archer. She was on her passage to the northward with despatches for Captain Lascelles, recalling him and his frigate homewards. The news was received by all hands with unmitigated joy. The tables on board the schooner were quickly turned. The Spaniards were all handcuffed, and a strict guard set over them. The midshipmen and their followers went on board the brig, where they were cordially welcomed, and their wounds looked to. The felucca escaped, but as she was never again heard of, it was supposed that she was lost in a fierce gale which occurred two days afterwards. The schooner was found to be full of slaves, and proved a rich prize. Don Diogo escaped hanging, but was reduced to abject beggary, for he had not even the means of leaving Sierra Leone, and very soon afterwards was found dead on the beach. This was the last adventure either of the three midshipmen met with on the coast of Africa. They were all three pretty well tired of it, and delighted indeed were they when they once more found themselves in sight of Old England. The frigate and brig were paid off about the same time, and Alick and Terence accompanied Jack to that often-talked-of and well-loved home of his in Northamptonshire. It must not be forgotten that they had in their train the most sensible of travelled apes. Master Queerface, who, by his amusing antics and performances, and extraordinary monkeyish sagacity, gained the admiration of the whole surrounding neighbourhood. There they remained for some weeks, when, after Alick and Terence had paid a short visit to their own friends, they were all once more summoned afloat. <hr /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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