CHAPTER XVI

ROBERT SURCOUF

Robert Surcouf, another prominent French privateersman, was born on December 12th, 1773--just one hundred years after Du Guay Trouin, to whose family he was related.

Like his famous relative, he was intended for the Church; but he speedily manifested a militant spirit by no means of an ecclesiastical quality--he was, in fact, an awful pickle at home and at school; insubordinate, always fighting with some one, tearing his clothes to pieces, and quite unamenable to parental or pedagogic admonition. Severity and entreaty were alike futile. However, he was sent to a seminary at Dinan, under a superior of great reputed strictness, and here for a time he raised his parents' hopes; but he soon grew weary of the monotony of obedience, ceased to evince any interest in his studies, and speedily became the leader in every description of mischief.

The crisis arrived one day when the class-master seized young Robert with the intention of administering personal chastisement. The scholar proved to be exceedingly robust for his years, and resisted the operation with tremendous vigour; and when at length the master had got him down, he seized his leg in his teeth, and compelled him to desist for the moment and seek for assistance. Surcouf's classmates loudly applauded him; but, knowing that he would be ultimately compelled to yield to superior force, he got through the window, scaled the garden wall, and, without hat or shoes, started to walk home, the snow lying thickly on the ground. He had more than twenty miles to walk, and when it became dark he slipped about on the frozen snow, and at length, worn out and half perished with cold and hunger, he sank senseless by the roadside. Luckily, some fish-merchants found him and took him home, where he was nursed by his mother with the tenderest devotion during an attack of pneumonia. Thanks to his strong constitution, he recovered completely; but he was not sent back to Dinan. It was obvious that there was nothing to be done but to recognise his vocation as a seaman; and accordingly, at the age of thirteen, he was shipped on board the _Heron_, brig, bound for Cadiz.

This kind of coasting voyage was not at all to the mind of the impetuous and ambitious Robert. Some of the crew who had made distant voyages had wonderful tales to tell, and he longed to visit these far-off lands. It was two years, however, before his wish was gratified. In March 1789, at sixteen, he embarked as volunteer on board the _Aurora_, of 700 tons, bound for the East Indies. They had a gale of wind, with a tremendous sea, off the Cape, and young Surcouf displayed remarkable courage and aptitude in the various emergencies which are sure to arise on such an occasion, for which he was duly praised by his superiors on board. After touching at the Mauritius, they went on to Pondicherry; and during this latter portion of the voyage Surcouf became very friendly with the fourth officer, M. de Saint-Pol, who, having been born on the Coromandel Coast, was conversant with the Eastern seas, was a very good officer and a well-informed man. He took pleasure in imparting to his young shipmate the knowledge at his command, and the seed fell upon fruitful ground, young Surcouf drinking in with avidity every detail concerning the Indian Seas, which he was destined one day to hold for a while completely. Saint-Pol's enthusiastic description of the exploits of Suffren served to inflame his ardour. However, he had some unpleasant work before him ere he found the opportunity he sought.

The _Aurora_, having conveyed some troops from Pondicherry to Mauritius, sailed for Mozambique, and there embarked four hundred negro slaves for the West Indies. This was in February 1790, the season at which the tremendous cyclones of the Indian Ocean are most frequent and formidable. The _Aurora_ fell in with one of these storms on the 18th, and, in spite of the brave efforts of master and crew, she was cast, dismasted and helpless, on the coast of Africa. The crew, together with the female slaves and children, were saved; but the negroes confined in the hold perished, every man, in that horrible death-trap, in spite of some brave attempts, in which young Surcouf took a part, to rescue them.

When the wind went down there was the terrible task to be performed of clearing out the ship, which appeared not to be damaged beyond repair; and in this work, which occupied fifteen days, Surcouf distinguished himself by his willing and untiring energy. Twice he was brought up fainting from that awful hold, but he continued to labour and set an heroic example until the end; and such fortitude in a lad of his age naturally attracted attention. He went back as mate in a vessel hired to convey the crew to Mauritius. She was driven terribly out of her course, and did not arrive until December; and Surcouf finished his first voyage as quartermaster, on board a corvette, the _Bienvenue_, for the homeward passage, reaching L'Orient on January 3rd, 1792. He made haste to visit his parents, who, no longer remembering the escapades of the school-boy, welcomed with pride and affection the stalwart, bronzed young seaman of eighteen, who appeared likely, after all, to do them credit.

The Indian seas called him again, and, after six months at home, he sailed as a lieutenant on board the armed ship _Navigator_, for Mauritius. After a couple of trading voyages between this island and the African coast, war broke out with England, and the _Navigator_ was laid up.

Surcouf now became lieutenant on board another vessel, trading to Africa, in which he made several voyages. There was no opportunity of acquiring any honour and glory in action, so he applied himself to his profession, and became a very good seaman, with an excellent knowledge of the navigation of the Indian Ocean.

He was not as lucky, however, as he had been in the _Aurora_, with regard to his superiors. The first lieutenant was a Portuguese, and for some reason he conceived a deadly hatred of Surcouf.

One sweltering hot day, the ship being becalmed, the men obtained leave to bathe over the side; after they had finished Surcouf thought he would like a dip, and took a header from the gangway. No sooner had he done so than he was seized with a sort of cataleptic fit, and found himself sinking helplessly. Luckily, it was noticed that he did not come up again, and some of the crew lowered a boat, while others dived for him, recovered him, and brought him on board; but all their efforts failed to evoke any signs of life, and the Portuguese, obviously and brutally exultant, after declaring repeatedly that Surcouf was dead, seized the inert body and with his own hands dragged it to the ship's side.

Surcouf, conscious of all that went on around him, realised that, unless he could make some sign, he had only a few seconds to live. With a tremendous effort, he contrived a voluntary movement of his limbs--it was noticed, and the further exertions of his shipmates sufficed to restore him.

The Portuguese, however, had not done with him. On their next visit to Africa some of the crew were laid up with malarial fever, and the first lieutenant caught it. He was very ill, and Surcouf earned the warm approbation of the captain for the manner in which he performed his senior's duties on the return voyage. After they arrived at Mauritius he was just going on shore when he received a message begging him to go and see the Portuguese, who said he must speak to him before he died. Surcouf did not much like the idea, but, after some hesitation, he went, having put a pair of loaded pistols in his pocket. The sick man made a sign to his servant to retire, and then said:

"I wish to speak to you with a sincere heart before I pass from this world, to relieve my conscience, and ask your forgiveness for all the evil I have wished to do you during our voyages."

Surcouf, touched by this appeal, assured him that he bore no malice. Just then the dying man appeared to suffer from a spasm which contorted his body, one arm stretching out towards a pillow near him. Surcouf quietly seized his hand and lifted the pillow, disclosing a couple of loaded pistols.

He seized them, and, pointing one at his enemy's face, said:

"You miserable beast! I could have shot you like a dog, or squashed you like a cockroach; but I despise you too much, so I'll leave you to die like a coward."

Which, we are told, the wretched man did, blaspheming in despairing rage.

After this, his ship being laid up in consequence of the blockade, he was appointed junior lieutenant of a colonial man of war, with a commission signed by the Governor.

Then came news of the death of Louis XVI. by the guillotine--news which astounded the colonists and seamen, who, in the Indian seas, were defending the "honour" of France--which they continued to do to the best of their ability, disregarding the deadly feuds and bloodshed at home.

In October 1794 a little squadron was despatched from Mauritius to attack a couple of English men-of-war which were practically blockading the island--these were the _Centurion_, of 54 guns, and the _Diomede_, of the same force but fewer men; and the French squadron consisted of the _Prudente_, 40 guns, the _Cybele_, 44 guns, the _Jean Bart_, 20 guns, and the _Courier_, 14 guns. The Frenchmen attacked with great spirit, and the English vessels were practically driven off the station; partly owing, it was said, to the extreme caution displayed by Captain Matthew Smith, of the _Diomede_, for which he was subsequently called upon to answer before a court-martial.[14]

In this spirited action, on the French side, Robert Surcouf took part as a junior lieutenant on board the _Cybele_. The casualties were heavy, but he escaped without a single scratch, and was commended for his courageous attitude. But soon afterwards he found himself at a loose end, the volunteers being discharged; so he presently accepted the command of the brig _Creole_, engaged in the slave trade, and made several successful voyages before the authorities realised that the traffic was, by a recent ordinance, illegal.

They gave orders to arrest Surcouf upon his arrival at Mauritius; he, however, having got wind of this intention, steered instead for the Isle of Bourbon, and there landed his cargo during the night, in a small bay about ten miles from St. Denis, the capital of the island. At daybreak he anchored in St. Paul's Bay, in the same island.

About eight o'clock he had a surprise visit from three representatives of the Public Health Committee, who desired to come on board. Surcouf, concealing his annoyance, gave permission, and of course they were not long in discovering undoubted indications of the purpose for which the brig had been employed. They drew up an indictment on the spot, and warned Surcouf that he would have to accompany them to answer to it.

"I am at your service, citizens," he replied politely; "but don't go until you have given me the pleasure of partaking of the breakfast which my cook has hastily prepared."

The invitation was accepted. The conscientious commissioners--"improvised negro-lovers, under the bloody Reign of Terror," as Robert Surcouf's namesake and biographer contemptuously styles them--were fond of good things, and the sea-air had sharpened their appetites. Surcouf had a short and earnest conversation with his mate before he conducted his guests below.

The cook's "hasty" efforts were marvellously attractive, and the wine was excellent--Surcouf was a bit of a _gourmet_ himself, and liked to have things nicely done--so what need was there for being in a hurry?

Meanwhile, the mate had dismissed the state canoe of the commissioners, telling the coxswain that the brig's boat would take them on shore.

Then the cable was quietly slipped, and the _Creole_, under all sail, rapidly left the anchorage, and, opening the headland, lay over to a fresh south-west wind. The unaccustomed motion began to tell upon the landsmen. Surcouf invited them to go on deck, and there was the island, already separated from the vessel by a considerable tract of foam-flecked ocean--and Surcouf was in command! In reply to their threats and remonstrances he told them that he was going to take them across to Africa, among their friends the negroes, and meanwhile they could come below and receive his orders.

During the night the wind freshened considerably, and the morning found the commissioners very anxious to regain terra firma at any cost; Surcouf had it all his own way. The indictment was destroyed, and a very different document was drawn up, to the effect that they had found no traces on board the brig of her having carried negroes, and that she had been suddenly driven from her anchor by a tidal wave--with other circumstantial little touches, which amused Surcouf and did them no great harm. Eight days later he landed them at Mauritius.

He had, however, had enough of slave trading. Of course, his exploit was the talk of the town, and most people were much amused over his impudent capture of the commissioners, who were compelled, in view of their written acquittal, to keep quiet. The general idea was that Surcouf had displayed qualities which would be extremely useful in the captain of a privateer; and it was not long before he was offered the command of the _Emilie_, of 180 tons and 4 guns. Just when she was ready for sea, however, the Governor let it be understood that, for certain reasons, he did not intend to issue any privateer commissions. This was a very keen disappointment; Surcouf obtained an interview with the Governor, who received him kindly but remained inflexible. Stifling his feelings, he sought his owners, and asked them what they were going to do. He received orders to go to the Seychelles for a cargo of turtles, and, failing these, to fill up with maize, cotton, etc., at these and other islands, and to fight shy of the cruisers that might be to windward of the island: a very tame programme.

However, he took comfort from the reflection that, although his ship was not a regular privateer, she was at least "an armed vessel in time of war"; and, as such, was permitted to defend herself when attacked; so he might yet see some fighting.

While at anchor at Seychelles, taking in cargo, two large English men-of-war unexpectedly appeared in the offing, and Surcouf only escaped by the clever manner in which he navigated the dangerous channels among the islands, to the admiration of his crew.

This incident set him thinking, and, calling his staff together, he drew up a sort of memorandum, setting forth how that they had been obliged to quit Seychelles on account of these two men-of-war, and could not return to complete their cargo; and that they had therefore resolved, by common consent, to go to the coast of "the East"--_i.e._ Sumatra, Rangoon, etc.--for a cargo of rice and other articles; "and at the same time to defend ourselves against any of the enemy's ships which we may encounter on the way, being armed with several guns."

This was signed by Surcouf and his officers and by some of the leading hands. No doubt it made him feel happier; but he had quite made up his mind as to his future conduct.

They got in a cyclone south of the Bay of Bengal, and then steered for Rangoon, off which place they sighted an English vessel steering for them. She came steadily on, and, when within close range, fired a shot--the "summoning shot," for the _Emilie_ to display her colours. It was not an attack, and Surcouf had no right so to consider it; but that is what he chose to do. Hoisting his colours, he replied with three shots. The Englishman attempted to escape; but the _Emilie_ was the faster, and, running alongside, delivered her broadside, upon which the other struck his colours.

"This was the first time," says his biographer, "that our Malouin had seen the British flag lowered to him, and though he had had only the commencement of a fight, his heart swelled with patriotic pride and beat with hope. The first shot has been fired; the captain of an armed ship in time of war gives place to the privateer commander. Surcouf arrives at a decision as to his future--he has passed the Rubicon!"

All very fine; but it was an act of piracy, for which he could have been hanged at the yardarm. He repeated it shortly afterwards, capturing three vessels laden with rice, and appropriating one, a pilot brig, in place of the _Emilie_, which was losing her speed on account of a foul bottom. A few days later, having now thrown away all hesitation, he seized a large ship, the _Diana_, also laden with rice, and started to take her, in company with his stolen brig, the _Cartier_, to Mauritius.

On the voyage, however, Surcouf improved upon his former captures. A large sail was reported one morning, and it was presently apparent that she was an East Indiaman. The two French ships had not made much progress down the Bay of Bengal, and the English vessel was obviously standing into Balasore Roads, there to await a pilot for the river Hooghly, unless she picked up one earlier. The account given in _The Gentleman's Magazine_ for June 1796 states that the Indiaman--the _Triton_--was at anchor in Balasore Roads when she was sighted. In the latest life of Surcouf, however, written by his great-nephew and namesake, it is said that she was standing towards the Orissa coast, on the starboard tack--Balasore being, of course, in the province of Orissa, and the open anchorage a convenient place for picking up the Calcutta pilot. The difference is of some importance with regard to Surcouf's attack: it is one thing to board and carry a vessel at anchor, on a hot afternoon, when every one who is not required to be moving about is having a siesta, and quite another thing to board her when she is standing in to her anchorage, with the captain and officers on deck, and the crew standing by to handle the sails; and this latter feat is what M. Robert Surcouf claims to have been performed by his great-uncle. It is possible, however, that both accounts may, in a measure, be correct; that is to say, the _Triton_, when first sighted from aloft on board the _Cartier_, may have been standing in towards the anchorage, which she may have reached, and dropped anchor, before the Frenchman came alongside.

However this may be, Surcouf was quick enough to realise that the Indiaman, if fought in anything like man-of-war style, was far too strong for him. He had on board only nineteen persons, including himself and the surgeon, belonging to the ship, and a few Lascars who had been transferred from the _Diana_: a ridiculous number to attack an Indiaman.

Finding that he did not gain upon the chase, and knowing that his own vessel had been a pilot brig, Surcouf hoisted the pilot flag; upon which the _Triton_ immediately hove to and waited for him; or, possibly, being already in the roads, dropped anchor; but the story distinctly says, "met en travers, et permit ainsi de l'atteindre," which has only one possible interpretation. Surcouf was still some three miles distant, and kept an anxious eye upon his big opponent, or rather, upon his possible prey, for the _Triton_ could scarcely be styled an opponent. He saw that she mounted some six-and-twenty guns, but that they were not ready for action. He saw also on deck "beaucoup de monde"--a great crowd of people, most of whom, he hoped, would prove to be Lascars; but he very shortly discovered that they were nothing of the kind. He was now within gunshot, and realised that the business might be serious for him; but the Englishmen were as yet quite unsuspicious, so he harangued his crew:

"My lads, this Englishman is very strong, and we are only nineteen; shall we try to take him by surprise, and thus acquire both gain and glory? Or do you prefer to rot in a beastly English prison-ship?"

It was cleverly put, from his own standpoint: he was spoiling for a fight, for an opportunity of displaying his masterly strategy and determined courage, to say nothing of the dollars in prospect; but the implication was perfectly unjustifiable that the choice lay between a desperate assault and certain capture. If he did not want to fight, he had only to sheer off and run for it; no Indiaman would initiate an action, or give chase, under such circumstances. However, he knew his audience, and his speech had the desired effect:

"Death or victory!" cried the eighteen heroes.

"Good!" replied their captain, "this ship shall either be our tomb or the cradle of our glory!"

It was really very fine and melodramatic--more especially since it was the prelude to an act of undoubted piracy.

This fact, however, does not detract from the merit of a very clever and bold attack, which was perfectly successful. Making his eighteen heroes lie down, while the Lascars stood about the deck, he took the helm and ran down for the _Triton_. The people on board only saw the expected pilot brig approaching, as no doubt they habitually did, to within a biscuit-toss, to tranship the pilot. Suddenly she hoisted French colours and let drive a heavy dose of grape and canister among the Indiaman's crew. A cry of dismay and astonishment rose from her deck, as every one instinctively sought shelter from the hail of iron. In another moment the brig was alongside, and Surcouf was leaping on board at the head of his small company. The surprise was so complete that there was but little resistance. The captain and a few others made a brave attempt, but were killed immediately; the rest were driven below, and the hatches clapped on. And so, with five killed and six wounded on the English side, and one killed and one wounded on the French, the thing was over. Really, it was a masterly affair.

Putting his prisoners on board the _Diana_, which he permitted her captain to ransom, he left them to make their way to Calcutta; and it is stated by contemporary Indian newspapers that he treated them with consideration, and was polite to the lady passengers.

The _Cartier_ was captured by an English man-of-war, but Surcouf carried the _Triton_ in triumph to Mauritius, where he was, of course, received with a tremendous ovation.

He was greatly dismayed, however, upon having it pointed out to him by the Governor that those who choose to go a-pirating are liable to be called upon to pay the piper. All his captures were condemned, and forfeited to the Government, as he had not been provided with a letter of marque. This was perfectly right and proper, though his biographer tries to make it out an injustice. There was a fearful outcry, of course, and eventually the matter was referred home, Surcouf appearing in person to plead his cause; the appeal was successful, and all the captures were declared to be "good prize," which was very nice for Surcouf and his owners, who pocketed a good round sum of money. About the morality of the proceedings the less said the better.

During this period of litigation the privateer hero had, of course, revisited St. Malo and seen his family and friends; and there he also fell in love with Mlle. Marie Blaize, to whom he became engaged. But the sea was calling him again, and he left her without being married.

His new command was the _Clarisse_, 14 guns, with a crew of one hundred and forty hardy seamen of St. Malo and elsewhere; while Nicolas Surcouf, brother to the captain, and a man of similar type, was chief officer. She sailed in July 1798 for the old familiar cruising-ground in the Indian Ocean; and just after crossing the Equator, fell in with a large armed English vessel, from which, after a sharp action, she parted, considerably damaged; but Surcouf consoled himself for this failure--from which, as his biographer puts it, "there remained only the glory of having seen the flag of England flying before the victorious standard of France!"--by the capture of a rich prize off Rio Janeiro; and anchored in December 1798 at Port Louis, Mauritius, "where his expected return from Europe was awaited with impatience by those who had built great hopes upon the conqueror of the _Triton_."

Space does not admit of following the adventures of Robert Surcouf in detail; his grand-nephew spares no pains, indeed, in this respect, spinning out his narrative, embellished with admiring outbursts of national and personal eulogy, in a somewhat tedious fashion. In the _Clarisse_ Surcouf had more successes, capturing two armed merchant vessels very cleverly at Sonson, in Sumatra, not without damage, which rendered it advisable to return to Port Louis to refit: thence, putting out again, he was on one occasion chased by the English frigate _Sibylle_; and so hard pressed was he that he was compelled to have recourse to desperate measures to improve the speed of his vessel: eight guns were thrown overboard, together with spare spars and other loose material, the rigging was eased up, the mast wedges loosened, the between-deck supports knocked away. It was a light breeze, of course, and these measures have a remarkable effect under such circumstances, rendering the vessel "all alive," as it were, and exceedingly susceptible of the smallest variation of pressure on the sails--and so the _Clarisse_ escaped. Two days later she captured an English vessel, the _Jane_--which is misnamed _James_ in French narratives--whose skipper wrote a long account of the affair. She sailed in company with two Indiamen, the _Manship_ and _Lansdowne_, having been warned that Surcouf was on the prowl outside. The captain imagined that, by keeping company with the two large Indiamen--armed vessels, of course--he would be safe from molestation; but he was sorely mistaken, for when the privateer hove in sight, and he signalled his consorts, they calmly sailed on and left the _Jane_ a victim, after a trifling resistance. Surcouf, being informed that these two large vessels, still in sight, were Indiamen, contemptuously remarked: "They are two _Tritons_," and he and his officers expressed the opinion that the captains deserved to be shot.

Next he encountered two large American ships: there was much ill-feeling between France and the United States, though war had not been declared, and when they met they fought like dogs of hostile owners. One of these vessels Surcouf captured by boarding, the other escaping; and this was his last cruise in the _Clarisse_.

It is in connection with his next command that Surcouf's name is, perhaps, most familiar. This was the _Confiance_, a new ship, and by all accounts a regular beauty. Before he got away, however, he had a quarrel with Duterte, another privateer captain of some note, commanding the _Malartic_, who had recourse to a ruse to obtain the pick of the available seamen in Mauritius for his own ship. Surcouf eventually contrived to circumvent him, and, after some high words in a cafe, they arranged a meeting with swords at daybreak. The Governor, General Malartic, however, intervened, commanding their attendance at the hour arranged for the duel, and, after an harangue from him, the two corsairs embraced and remained friends thereafter--they cruised, in fact, in consort for a time, in the Bay of Bengal, with much success.

Surcouf's great exploit in the _Confiance_ was the capture of the _Kent_, East Indiaman, at the end of her voyage. M. Robert Surcouf, in describing this event, dwells upon every detail, from the moment the _Kent_ was sighted, with most tedious prolixity, as though this was one of the decisive battles of the world. What happened is as follows:

On October 7th, 1800, a large sail was sighted at daybreak. After careful scrutiny, Surcouf decided that she was an Indiaman, a rich prize, and determined to have her if possible; so he hailed from aloft, where he was inspecting the stranger: "All hands on deck, make sail--drinks all round for the men! Clear for action!"

Then, coming down from aloft, he mounted on the companion hatch, ordered everybody aft, and harangued them--he was great at a speech on an occasion of the kind, though probably his biographer has embellished it--told them the Englishman was very strong, but that he intended to board at once.

"I suppose each one of you is more than equal to one Englishman? Very good--be armed ready for boarding--and, as it will be very hot work, I will give you an hour of pillage."

It was very hot work. The _Kent's_ people certainly greatly outnumbered the privateer's; she had on board a great proportion of the crew of the _Queen_, another East Indiaman, which had been destroyed by fire on the coast of Brazil. Surcouf says she had 437 on board, and the _Confiance_ only 130; but the figures for the _Kent_ are probably greatly exaggerated.

After the exchange of some broadsides, Surcouf at length out-manoeuvred the English captain, his vessel being probably far more handy, and succeeded in laying him aboard. Captain Rivington, of the _Kent_, was a man of heroic courage, and fought at the head of his men with splendid determination; but the privateer crew had all the advantage of previous understanding and association. The _Kent's_ men were undisciplined and but poorly armed for such an encounter, while Surcouf's, we are told, had each a boarding axe, a cutlass, a pistol, and a dagger--to say nothing of blunderbusses loaded with six bullets, pikes fifteen feet long, and enormous clubs--all this, in conjunction with "drinks all round," and the promise of pillage!

As long as their captain kept his feet the "Kents" maintained the desperate combat; but when at length he fell mortally wounded, though his last cry was "Don't give up the ship!" the flag was shortly lowered, though the chief officer made a desperate attempt to rally the crew once more.

And then commenced the promised pillage. Surcouf, hearing the loud complaints of the English, despoiled of their property, was on the point of angrily restraining his crew, when he remembered his promise, and stepped back, we are told, with a sigh of regret. But then came the screams of women.

"Good Lord! I'd forgotten the women!" he cried, and called his officers to come and protect them, which was very necessary. So hideous was the scene of plunder, amid the dead and wounded, that Surcouf exerted his power of will to cut short the time. He landed the prisoners in an Arab vessel, and arrived at Mauritius with his prize in November.

The French were accused of having behaved with great brutality, even wantonly poniarding the wounded and dying. This, of course, is denied; but it does not require a very vivid imagination to picture the scene--a crowd of half-disciplined men, excited with liquor, brutalised by bloodshed, elated with victory, turned loose to plunder; some word of remonstrance from a wounded man, finding his person roughly searched, and a knife-thrust, or fatal blow with the butt of a pistol, would be the only reply. Surcouf's protection of the ladies was, however, said to be effective; and this is probably true.

Surcouf took his flying _Confiance_ back to France, with a letter of marque; he caught a Portuguese vessel on the passage, and arrived at La Rochelle on April 13th, 1801. His adventure in the East had not cooled the ardour of his feelings towards Mlle. Marie Blaize, whom he married six weeks later; and he now became in his turn the _armateur_ or owner of privateers.

He was persuaded, however, to go to sea once more in 1807, when war had broken out again, in a vessel which he named the _Revenant_--_i.e._ the _Ghost_: and she had for a figure-head a corpse emerging from the tomb, flinging off the shroud.

With 18 guns and a complement of 192 men, the _Revenant_, a swift sailer, was quite as formidable as her predecessor; and so effectually did Surcouf scour the Bay of Bengal and the adjacent seas, so crafty and determined was he in attack, so swift in pursuit or in flight, that his depredations called forth an indignant but somewhat illogical memorial, in December 1807, from the merchants and East India Company to the Admiralty. The fact was that the British men-of-war on the station were doing pretty well all that could be done, but the _Revenant_, when it came to chasing her, was apt to become as ghostly as her figure-head--she had the heels of all of them, and her captain seemed to have an intuitive perception as to the whereabouts of danger.

Surcouf eventually settled down as a shipbuilder and shipowner at St. Malo. He had, of course, made a considerable fortune, and his business prospered, so he was one of the most wealthy and influential men in the place. He died in 1827.

Captain Marryat, in one of his novels, "Newton Forster," gives a vivid description of a fight between Surcouf and the _Windsor Castle_ Indiaman, commanded by the plucky and pugilistic Captain Oughton. Such a yarn, by an expert seaman and a master-hand, is delightful reading, and the temptation to transcribe it here is strong. It must, however, be resisted, as the story is, after all, a fiction, and therefore would be out of place.

There are other French privateersmen well worthy of notice, did space permit, foremost among whom is Thurot, who, single-handed, contrived to harass the English and Irish coasts for months; the brothers Fourmentin, the eldest of whom has the Rue du Baron Bucaille in Boulogne named after him, though his biographer informs us that he never called himself Bucaille, nor was he a baron--but somehow this title became attached to him.

M. Henri Malo, in "Les Corsaires," tells a story of him which is said to be traditional in his family, and is certainly entertaining; so it shall be transcribed as related.

"One evening, several privateer captains were dining together. There was a leg of mutton for dinner, and a discussion arose as to whether French mutton was superior or inferior to English. Fourmentin said the only way to decide the question was to have the two kinds on the table; they had French mutton, they only wanted a specimen of the English mutton--he would go and fetch it. Forthwith he proceeded to the harbour, and, according to his custom, summoned his crew by beating with a hammer on the bottom of a saucepan. Making sail, he landed in the middle of the night on the English coast, seized a customs station, and bound the officers, except six, whom he directed, pistol in hand, to conduct him to the nearest sheep-fold. Choosing the six finest sheep in the flock, he made the six customs officers shoulder them and take them on board his vessel. He gave his six involuntary porters a bottle of rum by way of reward for their trouble, and straightway made sail for France. He had left on the flood-tide--he returned on it, with the required sheep, which he and his colleagues were thus able to appreciate and compare with the others."

A very good family story, and probably quite as true as many another!

These Frenchmen of whom we have been discoursing were certainly fine seamen, and intrepid fighters; they had, no doubt, the faults common to privateers, but they were able and formidable foes, and left their mark in history.

CONCERNING THE FRONTISPIECE

On July 27th, 1801, capture was made of a remarkable vessel. There was no fighting, but the ship herself excited a good deal of interest at the time.

We learn from the captain's log of the British frigate _Immortalite_ that, in the small hours of the morning, a large ship was observed, and sail was made in chase. At daylight the chase proved to be a four-masted vessel, fully rigged upon each mast--a common enough object nowadays, but then almost unique. This was the French privateer _Invention_, a ship built under the special supervision of the man who commanded her--M. Thibaut. She was brand-new, having sailed upon her first voyage only eight days previously, and had already eluded one of our frigates by superior speed. She was probably a very fast vessel, and might quite possibly have outsailed the _Immortalite_; but, very unhappily for Captain Thibaut, another British frigate, the _Arethusa_, Captain W. Wolley, appeared right in her path. Thus beset, Thibaut's case was hopeless, and so the _Invention's_ very brief career as a privateer came to an end, the _Immortalite_--commanded by Captain Henry Hotham--taking possession at eight o'clock.

Captain Wolley, as senior officer, reported the circumstances to the Admiralty:

"She is called _L'Invention_, of Bordeaux, mounting 24 guns, with 207 men. She is of a most singular construction, having four masts, and they speak of her in high terms, though they say she is much under-masted. I directed Captain Hotham to take her into Plymouth. I should have ordered her up the river for their lordships' inspection, but I did not choose to deprive Captain Hotham of his men for so long a time."

The corner of the letter is turned down and on it is written: "Acquaint him that their lordships are highly pleased with the capture of this vessel."

There is an enclosure giving the dimensions of the vessel, as follows:

Ft. In. Length of keel 126 10 Extreme length 147 4 Breadth of beam 27 1 Depth of hold 11 9 Draft of water 13 9

Mention is also made of a sketch enclosed, but this is not now with the letter. It is probable, however, that a small woodcut, on the first page of vol. vii. of _The Naval Chronicle_, is copied from this sketch, and the frontispiece of this volume is an enlargement and adaptation from the woodcut.

The _Invention_ had less beam in proportion to her length than was usual in those days, and perhaps Captain Thibaut was afraid of masting her too heavily lest she should be "tender" under canvas. Her draft of water is moderate for her other dimensions, which would be an additional occasion of anxiety on this score; but, with a large spread of canvas, she would have been very swift in moderate weather.

There does not appear to be any record to hand as to what became of the _Invention_, whether she was afterwards sent up the river for the inspection of their lordships, or taken on as a man-of-war; possibly some dockyard archives may contain the information.

On August 25th, 1801, the Navy Board reported to the Admiralty that the _Invention_ had been surveyed, and was a suitable vessel for the Royal Navy, and asked whether her four masts should be retained; and September 1st following they ask that the sketch of the ship may be returned; but there is no reply to be found to either of these letters in the proper place; so the further correspondence must either have been lost or placed among other papers. Possibly the ship was not, after all, taken for the Navy; if she was it would probably be under some other name.

[Footnote 14: Captain Smith appears, however, to have been very harshly used, through the implications, rather than any specific accusation, of his senior, Captain Osborn; and upon his presenting a memorial to the King (George III.), setting forth the circumstances under which he was tried in the East Indies, the case was referred to the law officers of the Crown and the Admiralty Counsel, who declared that the finding of the court was unwarrantable, and should not be upheld. Captain Smith, who had been dismissed the Service, was thereupon reinstated; but an officer who thus "scores" off his superiors is not readily pardoned, and he was never again employed. It appears to have been a shady business, with some personal spite in the background.]

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