diff options
Diffstat (limited to '41144-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 41144-0.txt | 3829 |
1 files changed, 3829 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/41144-0.txt b/41144-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..050d277 --- /dev/null +++ b/41144-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3829 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Fishguard Invasion by the French in 1797, +by M. E. James, et al + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Fishguard Invasion by the French in 1797 + + +Author: M. E. James + + + +Release Date: October 22, 2012 [eBook #41144] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FISHGUARD INVASION BY THE +FRENCH IN 1797*** + + +This ebook was transcribed by Les Bowler. + + [Picture: Disembarkation] + + + + + + THE FISHGUARD INVASION + BY THE + FRENCH IN 1797 + + + * * * * * + + SOME PASSAGES TAKEN FROM THE DIARY OF THE LATE + REVEREND DANIEL ROWLANDS, SOMETIME + VICAR OF LLANFIANGELPENYBONT + + * * * * * + + London + T. FISHER UNWIN + PATERNOSTER SQUARE + MDCCCXCII + + Dedicated + BY PERMISSION + TO + THE RIGHT HONOURABLE + THE + EARL OF CAWDOR + + + + +CONTENTS + + PAGE +INTRODUCTION 9 + WEDNESDAY. + _THE FIRST DAY_. +CHAP. + I. THREE FRIGATES 43 + II. THE LANDING 54 + III. THE FATE OF THE CLOCK 75 + IV. THE PRIEST’S PEEP-HOLE 88 + THURSDAY. + _THE SECOND DAY_. + V. DAVY JONES’ LOCKER 109 + VI. WELSH WIVES 125 + VII. GENERAL TATE’S LETTER 139 + FRIDAY. + _THE THIRD DAY_. + VIII. THE GATHERING AT GOODWICH 159 + IX. THE CAPITULATION 171 + X. TREHOWEL ONCE MORE 180 + SEQUEL. + _THE GOLDEN PRISON AT PEMBROKE_. + XI. THE GENERAL THANKSGIVING 193 + XII. INSIDE THE GOLDEN PRISON 204 + XIII. AWAY! AWAY!! 222 + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. + +THE DISEMBARKATION (_From an old print_) _Frontispiece_ +STAND OF ARMS IN TENBY MUSEUM 20 +THE FRENCH FRIGATES (_From an old print_) 43 +CARREGWASTAD 54 +COTTAGE AT CASTELL 75 +A RANSACKED FARMHOUSE 109 +THE “ROYAL OAK” AT FISHGUARD 139 +TREHOWEL: GENERAL TATE’S HEADQUARTERS 184 + + + +INTRODUCTION. + + +The very curious incident related in the following narrative took place +nearly a hundred years ago, and, as men’s memories are short, and the +whole affair reads like fiction—and very improbable and imaginative +fiction—it may be as well to write a few lines of introduction, and to +give my authorities for the facts mentioned in the story. + +In the first place, the evidence of persons who had witnessed the +landing, and who recollected it perfectly, and who have told the story to +me—I have met many such in the course of my life, as my home was within +sight of Fishguard Head. Probably the last of these eye-witnesses was +the old woman who died a short time ago—on February 8, 1891. Her demise +was announced by the Pembrokeshire papers as “The Death of a +Pembrokeshire Centenarian.” + +The death occurred on Sunday morning at the Dyffryn Cottages, near +Fishguard, of Eleanor (Nelly) Phillips at the age of 103. Her age is +pretty accurately fixed by a statement she was wont to make, that she was +nine years old when the French landed at Fishguard. She was a spinster, +and had been bedridden for eight years. When a mere girl she was in +service at Kilshawe, near Fishguard, and was driving cows from a field +when the French frigates appeared off the coast in 1797. + +In the second place, the following books and pamphlets:— + +Fenton’s “Pembrokeshire,” pp. 10, 11, and 12. + +“The Book of South Wales,” by C. F. Cliffe, p. 251. + +A curious and scarce pamphlet, written by Williams of Crachenllwyd, a +place near St. David’s; he was the farmer who sent his servant to give +the alarm. The pamphlet was called “The Landing of the French,” and was, +I believe, printed at Haverfordwest. + +“The Red Dragon,” 1885. _Western Mail_ Office, Cardiff. + +“An Authentic Account of the Invasion of the French Troops (under the +command of General Tate) on Carrig Gwasted Point, near Fishguard, +Wednesday, the 22nd day of February, 1797, and their Surrender to the +Forces of His Britannic Majesty on Goodwick Sands, on Friday, the 24th of +February; likewise some occurrences connected therewith: never before +published. Haverfordwest: Joseph Potter, printer, High Street, 1842.” +This pamphlet was written by H. L. ap Gwilym—and was signed as correct by +two eye-witnesses, Fishguard Fencible men, Peter Davies and Owen +Griffith. + +Laws, “Little England beyond Wales,” p. 367. + +I am indebted to the kindness of Mr. Leach, the editor of the _Tenby +Observer_, for many particulars, and especially for information as to how +the news was conveyed to England. He found the following entry in the +overseer’s accounts for the borough of Tenby:— + + “_Thursday_, _Feb._ 23, 1797. Cash paid by Mr. Mayor’s order to John + Upcoat, for going out to the Road for a skiff to go over to the + English side to give information concerning the landing of about + 1,400 French Troops at Fishguard in the County, who on the next day + surrendered themselves up to the Welsh etc., that went to oppose them + as _prisoners of war_, and were marched accordingly by Saturday 25th + to Haverfordwest. . . 1s.” + +This entry could not have been entirely made on Feb. 23rd, unless the +worthy overseer had the gift of prophecy. + +The messenger probably came on to Tenby from Stackpole, where he aroused +Lord Cawdor with the tidings in the middle of Wednesday night. The news +conveyed by John Upcoat must have been taken across the Channel to +Somersetshire and thence to London; the manner of proceeding at the _fin +de siècle_ of the eighteenth century contrasts amusingly with the +rapidity of the nineteenth, but possibly our time will be scoffed at and +considered slow by the twentieth. + +The _European Magazine_ of the period gives the names of the vessels: _La +Résistance_, commanded by Monsieur Montague, 40 guns, eighteen pounders +on her main deck, 345 men. The other frigate _La Constance_, commanded +by Monsieur Desauny, mounted 24 nine-pounders on her main deck, with 189 +men. {14} + +One of the frigates and the corvette were eventually captured off Brest +by the _St. Fiorenzo_ frigate (Captain Sir H. B. Neale, Bart.) and the +_La Nymphe_ (Captain J. Cooke), who took them both into Portsmouth, where +the frigate was repaired and rechristened the _Fisgard_, presumably the +French pronunciation of Fishguard, and was until quite lately the +receiving ship at Sheerness. The other frigate and the lugger managed to +get safely into Brest. + +The officers present at the council of war held at the “Royal Oak,” +Fishguard, were the Lord-Lieutenant of the county, Lord Milford (who from +age and infirmity had given up the command of the troops to Lord Cawdor), +Lord Cawdor, Colonel Knox, Colonel Colby, Major Ackland, Colonel Dan. +Vaughan, Colonel James, Colonel George Vaughan, the governor of Fishguard +Fort, and other gentlemen. The troops consisted of the Castle Martin +Yeomanry Cavalry, the Cardiganshire Militia, the Cardiff Militia (which +was then stationed in Pembrokeshire), some Fencible infantry, and a few +sailors under Lieutenants Mears and Perkins, in all 750 men. + +The letters that passed between General Tate and Lord Cawdor are given in +the narrative, but the following letters from Lord Milford and Lord +Cawdor to the Duke of Portland, Secretary of State for the Home +Department, may be found interesting:— + + _From Lord Milford_. + + “HAVERFORDWEST, + + “_February_ 26, 1797, Six o’clock A.M. + + “Since I had the honour of writing last to your Grace by express I + received information of the French ships having sailed and left 300 + men behind, who have surrendered themselves prisoners. The great + spirit and loyalty that the gentlemen and peasantry has shown on this + occasion exceeds description. Many thousands of the latter + assembled, armed with pikes and scythes, and attacked the enemy + previous to the arrival of troops that were sent against them.” + + * * * * * + + “HAVERFORDWEST, + + “_February_ 24, Nine o’clock P.M. + + “I have the honour and pleasure to inform your Grace that the whole + of the French troops, amounting to near fourteen hundred men, have + surrendered, and are now on their march to Haverfordwest. I have + taken the first opportunity of announcing the good news to your + Grace, and shall have the honour of writing again to your Grace by + tomorrow’s post.” + +The following letter was written by Lord Cawdor to the Duke of Portland:— + + “FISHGUARD, + + “_Friday_, _February_ 24, 1797. + + “MY LORD,—In consequence of having received information on Wednesday + night, at eleven o’clock, that three large ships of war and a lugger + had anchored in a small roadstead upon the coast, in the + neighbourhood of this town, I proceeded immediately with a detachment + of the Cardiganshire Militia and all the provincial force I could + collect to the place. I soon gained positive intelligence they had + disembarked about 1,200 men, but no cannon. Upon the night setting + in a French officer, whom I found to be second in command, came in + with a letter (a copy of which I sent your Grace, together with my + answer), {18} in consequence of which they determined to surrender + themselves prisoners of war, and, accordingly, laid down their arms + this day at two o’clock. I cannot, at this moment, inform your Grace + the exact number of prisoners, but I believe it to be their whole + force. It is my intention to march them this night to Haverfordwest, + where I shall make the best distribution in my power. The frigates, + corvette, and lugger got under weigh yesterday evening, and were this + morning entirely out of sight. The fatigue we experienced will, I + trust, excuse me to your Grace for not giving a more particular + detail; but my anxiety to do justice to the officers and men I had + the honour to command, will induce me to attend your Grace with as + little delay as possible, to state their merits and, at the same + time, to give you every information in my power on this subject. The + spirit and loyalty which has pervaded all ranks throughout the + country is infinitely beyond what I can express. + + “I am, &c., + “CAWDOR.” + + [Picture: Stand of Arms in Tenby Museum] + +Lord Cawdor’s “distribution” took the form of placing 700 men in the +beautiful old church of St. Mary’s (which they greatly injured), 500 in +the Town Hall, and the remainder in the store-houses of Haverfordwest. +The officers were allowed out on parole, and one of them showed scant +respect for his word of honour, for he was discovered at a silversmith’s +trying to barter an old silver cup for coin of the realm, with which +doubtless to escape to France. There were some letters on the cup which +he chose to decipher as “La Vendée”; they turned out on inspection to be +“Llanwnda,” from which church the chalice had been stolen, and where it +was at once returned, while the officer was transferred from the “Castle +Hotel” to the Castle jail—a very different place. + +A number of the prisoners were shortly after sent on to Carmarthen and to +Pembroke, where the romantic episode of the escape from the Golden Prison +occurred exactly as given in the narrative. The arms and ammunition +taken from the French filled fifty-five carts; their muskets were the +ordinary weapon of the period, with flint locks, barrels 3ft. 7in., whole +length 4ft. 10in., weight 9¾lbs. Lord Cawdor presented two of these +muskets to the Tenby Museum, and Mr. Mathias gave a short sword and +scabbard. On each side of the sword are represented sun, moon, and +stars, with the inscription _Cassaguard_, _Fourbisseur du Roy_, _Nantes_. +There are half-a-dozen cannonballs—nine pounders—at the house of Eleanor +Rees, of Goodwick, which were given to her father by the French—a curious +toy for a small boy of two or three years of age. The invaders seem to +have been very kind to this young Taffy, nursed him on their knees, and +made much of him, and finally presented him with this strange _gage +d’amour_. He was probably a plucky little fellow, for he grew into a +brave man, and was awarded a medal for having at various times saved many +lives, going out in his own boat to shipwrecked vessels and rescuing the +crews—when the _Lady Kenmare_ foundered he saved, among others, two +ladies and some children, bringing them through a tremendous sea, “in +their night-dresses, as wet as sops,” the narrator added. + +Most of the prisoners were finally sent back to France, when it was +discovered what manner of men they were. Lord Cawdor took General Tate +and some of the other officers to London, whence they were consigned to +Dartmoor. This personally-conducted journey through England was not +without peril. The people were greatly incensed against the French, and +were quite ready to carry out Lynch law on these unhappy men, and in the +excitement of the moment a mob does not always discriminate between its +friends and its foes. It was fortunate for Tate and his fellows, and +still more fortunate for Pembrokeshire, that the conduct of the whole +affair from first to last was in such able and determined hands as those +of Lord Cawdor. A letter from him to Lady Cawdor (hitherto unpublished, +and for which I am indebted to Mr. Laws), gives a very vivid account of +this journey. + + “OXFORD STREET, + + “_Monday morn_, _March_ 13, 1797. + + “I have at length the satisfaction of an hour’s time free from + interruption to give you a short account of our employment, etc., + since I quitted you, but shall reserve much of the detail for your + amusement when we meet, a moment I ardently long for. Near Tavern + Spite I met a messenger, with the D. of Portland’s despatches to me + signifying the King’s approbation of my conduct, which probably + General Rooke has shown you, accompanied also by a handsome and + flattering private letter from the Duke. Upon my arrival at + Carmarthen I immediately sent off the messenger with my letters, and + finding the impossibility of procuring horses until the following + morn was in the expectation of getting a quiet night, having procured + a bed at a private house; but an alarm of a fire in the town joined + to confusion created by the report of a landing in great force in + Glamorganshire, which I knew must have no foundation, prevented my + obtaining sleep for one moment. Early in the morn we left + Carmarthen, with three chaises; in the first, Joe Adams had charge of + Tate and Captain Tyrell, the first alarmed and confused, the second a + stupid Paddy. I had Le Brun with me, as dirty as a pig, but more + intelligent and better manners; in the last, Lord E. Somerset had the + care of Captain Norris and Lieutenant St. Leger, both greatly + frightened, they had but little conversation. The whole road we + passed through great crowds of people at all the places were (_sic_) + we changed horses, and thro’ Wales tho’ the indignation of the people + was great, I found my influence would protect them without + difficulty. The women were more clamorous than the men, making signs + to cut their throats, and desiring I would not take the trouble of + carrying them further. All the military assistance I could get at + Oxford as a guard for the night was a sergeant of your friend and + landlord, and two recruits, but I had no apprehension of their escape + as their remain (_sic_) with us was the only thing that ensured their + safety. At Uxbridge the rage of the mob was chiefly directed against + Tate, who was supposed to be Wall, and he trembled almost to + convulsions, by a little arrangement I contrived to bring them quiet + through the parks, and lodged them in the Duke of Portland’s before + any crowd was assembled. My time since that moment has been taken up + with attendance at the different offices, etc., and ministers are so + bewildered by the difficulties at the Bank, etc., that it is more + than usually difficult to get access to them for any time, but I have + seen them all and stated to them plainly and decidedly, the situation + of Pembroke, etc., giving every testimony in my power. The weather + is extremely cold, the town I hear dull and unpleasant, everybody I + have seen much interested about you, Mrs. Wodehouse . . . and desires + her love. Joe his respects.” + + [No signature.] + +Having disposed of the rank and file of the expedition, there comes the +natural question, what was its _raison d’étre_? Some persons think it +was merely a fine stroke of political economy on the part of the French +Government, for a considerable number of the men were convicts, and to +have them killed or imprisoned at the expense of the English would +undoubtedly have been a good financial arrangement; but the biography of +Lazare Hoche {26} proves that a much larger idea than this was in the +mind of the originator of the invasion. He was a successful general and +an ambitious man, and his imagination was fired by the prowess of +Napoleon:—“La France couvrait alors ses frontières de jeunes républiques, +et Bonaparte saisissait les imaginations par ses merveilleux exploits en +Italie. Hoche, retenu par les pénibles soins de la pacification de +l’Ouest, avait suivi de son ardente pensée le vainqueur d’Arcole à +travers, tous ses champs de victoire: ‘Glorieux jeune homme, s’écriait-il +en se frappant le front,’ que je te porte envie! Il brûlait de faire +d’aussi grandes choses, et de trouver un champ de gloire digne de son +génie; il projetait donc de révolutionner l’Irlande, de la transformer en +république; puis de passer en Angleterre et de la frapper au cœur. Il +fit adopter son projet par le gouvernement qui, aprês s’être concerté +avec les chefs des révolutionnaires irlandais, prépara à Brest une grande +expédition dont Hoche eut le commandement. . . Hoche y joignit deux +légions, qu’il nomma légions des Francs: il composa la première des +officiers et des soldats les plus résolus, audacieux jusqu’ à la +témérité; il forma la seconde, il faut le dire, d’éléments indignes, et +c’est un reproche pour sa mémoire. Détestant l’Angleterre, partageant de +tristes prejujés et regardant, en haine du gouvernement britannique, le +peuple anglais comme le suppôt de ministres perfides et d’une odieuse +aristocratie, tous les moyens lui semblaient permis pour abaisser et pour +désoler cette fière nation: il agit en conséquence et fit entrer dans +cette seconde légion tout ce qu’il put ramasser de gens perdus, de +bandits et de massacreurs, et il la mit sous le commandement d’un chef +étranger connu par sa sauvage énergie. Cette légion devait aborder en +Angleterre pour abuser l’ennemi sur la véritable destination de l’escadre +portant le corps expeditionnaire: elle eut l’ordre de débarquer à +l’embouchure de la Saverne, de se porter de nuit sur Bristol, d’incendier +cette ville et de semer la devastation dans les campagnes environnantes; +puis de se rembarquer pour jeter plusieurs détachements sur différents +points du littoral en portant partout la mort, le ravage et l’incendie, +attirant ainsi sur elle et retenant en Angleterre une partie considérable +des forces britanniques, tandis que l’expédition cinglerait viers la côte +irlandaise.” + +In the appendix of the same work we find the source from which Hoche +compiled his instructions. + + “NOTE D. + + “Extrait du projet de Carnot pour l’organisation d’une chouaunnerie + en Angleterre, et dans lequel Hoche puisa les instructions données + par lui à la seconde légion des Francs. + + “Les hommes employés à cette expédition devront être, autant que + faire se pourra, jeunes, robustes, audacieux, d’une âme accessible à + l’appât du butin. + + “Il faut qu’à l’exemple de ce que faisaient les filibustiers dans les + Antilles, ils sachent porter, au milieu de leurs ennemis, l’épouvante + et la mort. + + * * * * * + + “On pourrait incorporer dans ces troupes les condamnés par jugement + aux fers ou à la chaine en qui l’on reconnaîtrait les dispositions + physiques et morales requises pour les individus employés à cette + expédition. On assurerait à ces individus la possession du butin + qu’ils feraient. On leur en promettrait la jouissance tranquille + dans quelques-unes de nos colonies. Il faudrait en outre faire + espérer aux condamnés la rémission de leurs peines, en récompense des + services qu’ils auraient rendus à la patrie. + + “Le premier noyau de ces hommes, au nombre d’environ deux mille, + serait organisé en compagnies d’environ cinquante hommes chacune, qui + auraient leurs officiers et seraient subordonnés à un chef unique + chargé de l’ensemble des opérations. Ce chef serait investi d’une + très-grande autorité. + + * * * * * + + “Il ne faut pas perdre de vue qu’une expédition tentée d’abord avec + aussi peu de monde ne peut réussir que par des moyens + extraordinaires. + + “Il ne faut point de grands approvisionnements en effets + d’habillement: les ressources de la troupe seront dans son courage et + dans ses armes. + + * * * * * + + “Il faut que le débarquement se fasse sur plusieurs points de la + côte, soit parce que la désolation et la terreur portées dans une + grande étendue de terrain multiplieront aux yeux de nos ennemis la + quantité de nos forces, soit parce que les moyens de subsistance en + seront plus faciles. + + “En arrivant, les chefs s’annonceront, eux et leurs soldats, comme + _vengeurs de la liberté et ennemis des tyrans_. + + * * * * * + + “Il faut que la troupe jure _querre aux châteaux_ et _paix aux + chaumières_, et que sa conduite, surtout au début, soit conforme à + cette déclaration. + + “A mesure qu’ils avanceront, ils ouvriront les prisons, recruteront + les détenus, les incorporeront: ils appelleront les ouvriers, les + indigents, les mécontents, à faire cause commune avec eux, leur + présenteront des armes, des subsistances; leur offriront l’appât du + butin. Ils briseront toutes les voitures. + + * * * * * + + “Il faut poursuivre l’ennemi à outrance quand il est battu, et ne + point faire quartier aux prisonniers. + + “Il faut rompre les ponts, couper les communications, arrêter et + piller les voitures publiques, brûler tout ce qui appartient à la + marine . . . sommer les communes de rendre leurs armes; exécuter + militairement celles qui resisteraient.” + +Mr. Laws has kindly shown me an “Authentic Copy of the Instructions given +by General Hoche to the American officer, Colonel Tate, who commanded the +men employed in the French Invasion of South Wales in 1797.” It +commences thus:— + + “There will be placed under the command of Colonel Tate a body of + troops completely organised to the number of one thousand and fifty, + all resolute, determined men, with whom he may undertake anything. + They are to be called ‘La Seconde Légion des Francs.’ + + “The legion is completely armed; he will be likewise furnished with + fast-going vessels with which he is to proceed before, with, or after + the squadron; the vessels will be victualled for the passage, but the + legion will bring on shore nothing but their ammunition, which is to + be musquet cartridges. + + “Colonel Tate is to have command in chief of the legion; the Admiral + will give the necessary orders to the officer commanding the naval + force, which will proceed up St. George’s Channel, and the landing is + to be effected, if possible, in or near Cardigan Bay.” + +The instructions then give directions that the expedition should make a +feint of landing in Somersetshire, as was afterwards done; and the most +minute and careful suggestions are made on the primary object of securing +the co-operation of the Welsh people—General Hoche remarks that the poor +are the most easy to rouse, as hunger makes people discontented. His +followers, however, hardly carried out this truism in the way he +intended; they devoured everything they could lay their hands on, and +certainly succeeded in rousing the peasantry, but not exactly to +co-operation. The loyalty of the people must have been an unpleasant +surprise to the framers of the expedition. + +It appears from the directions that two other legions were to have +simultaneously invaded the counties of Northumberland, Durham, and York; +these latter, however, never put in an appearance. The primary object to +be attained by the Second Legion was the destruction of Bristol and +Liverpool. On reaching Severn Sea should the former prove impracticable, +then the legion was to land in Cardigan Bay, and march through Wales to +Chester and Liverpool. + +These instructions are taken from a pamphlet printed for J. Wright, 169, +Piccadilly (1798), the text of which is copied from attested transcripts +of the original documents. The instructions continue:— + + “The expedition under the command of Colonel Tate has in view three + principal objects. The first is, if possible, to raise an + insurrection in the country. The second is to interrupt and + embarrass the commerce of the enemy. The third is to prepare and + facilitate the way for a descent by distracting the attention of the + English Government.” {36} + +There is no doubt that the frigates did go up the Channel as far as +Ilfracombe, causing consternation among the small craft, and great +excitement on shore. They proceeded as far as Ilfracombe, where they +scuttled some merchantmen. A letter is extant written by the town +authorities to the Home Secretary. The volunteer regiments were on the +alert, and a considerable force was quickly mustered, which was possibly +the reason that the French did not land in Somersetshire, but returning +down the Channel made without any delay for the north coast of +Pembrokeshire. + +As has been seen, the local regiments here were no less brisk than their +Somersetshire fellows. The Castle Martin Yeomanry Cavalry now carry +“Fishguard” on their standard as well as upon the sabretaches of the +officers, and upon the pouches of the troopers, a distinction granted to +them in 1853, when the following letter was written by Lord Palmerston to +Sir John Owen. + + “WHITEHALL, _May_ 18, 1853. + + “SIR,—I have had the honour to lay before the Queen the memorial of + the officers, non-commissioned officers, and privates of the Castle + Martin Yeomanry Cavalry (which you transmitted to me), and I have the + satisfaction to inform you that Her Majesty is graciously pleased to + approve of the corps bearing the word ‘Fishguard’ on their standard + and appointments. + + “I have the honour to be, sir, + “Your obedient servant, + “PALMERSTON. + + “Sir John Owen, Bart., M.P.” + +It is satisfactory to state that the Castle Martin Yeomanry Cavalry still +maintains its reputation for efficiency and smartness, its team of ten +men having won the inter-regimental challenge cup, and proved themselves +the best shots among the forty competing yeomanry regiments in 1890, +Corporal Williams, of St. Florence, having made the highest score of any +yeoman in the kingdom. Thus giving us—the inhabitants of +Pembrokeshire—the satisfactory assurance that, should invaders land on +our coast now, they would meet with at least as warm a reception as they +did a hundred years ago. And this suggests the idea that, in this age of +centenaries, this strange occurrence should not be forgotten, but that in +1897 the landing of the French at Fishguard should be duly celebrated. + + + + +WEDNESDAY. +_THE FIRST DAY_. + + +CHAPTER I. +THREE FRIGATES. + + +In the year of our Lord, 1797, there was a right fair day in February. +The day was a Wednesday, the twenty-second of the month, and it was +indeed the most pleasant day for that harsh season of the year that I can +call to mind on looking back through the course of a long life. But it +was not only the unusual beauty of it that made that Wednesday in +February a day of mark, or I might scarcely have kept it stored in a +corner of my mind for seventy years well-nigh—remarkable as fine days are +in this climate that is chiefly renowned for fine rain; but for the +reason that this particular Wednesday was a day of utmost astonishment to +all the dwellers on this North Pembrokeshire coast, and (I may venture to +add) a day of much consternation to most of them. + + [Picture: The French Frigates] + +A day still remembered by old Welsh fishwives, and still used by them as +a means of terror wherewith to hush to sleep unquiet grandbabes, or to +stir to patriotism stout but supine grandsons. + +I was, at the time of which I speak, but a youth of fifteen, as +thoughtless and careless as most lads of that age; not very sensible to +danger, save when it presented itself face to face with me at no more +than arm’s length, under which circumstances candour compels me to own I +did not always enjoy it. I trust that I may say without undue boasting +that I did not fear anything greatly as long as it was out of sight, for +which reason I have often thought that had I been born a generation or +two later, and had I selected a soldier’s career instead of that of a +divine I might have fought excellently at a distance of a few miles from +the enemy: though at close quarters I will admit that any unexpected +danger might perchance produce a sense of amazement which the +uncharitable might set down to faint-heartedness. + +But that my nephews, nieces, and neighbours generally may know the truth +concerning this matter—the landing of the French at Fishguard in 1797, I, +Daniel Rowlands, clerk, being aged, but still of sound mind, have written +this narrative—which when duly set forth will, I hope, convince the most +sceptical as to the sort of spirit which animated my countrymen (if not +myself), and still more my countrywomen. + +On this fair morning then, at about ten o’clock, when I ought to have +been pursuing my studies under the fostering care of one of the clergy at +St. David’s, I was in reality strolling along the headland of that name, +led astray by the beauty of the day, which seemed too fair for book-lore; +I was strolling along, doing nothing, thinking of nothing, wishing for +nothing, yet, having found for the nonce the secret of true happiness, +when I perceived a man on horseback approaching me at a furious rate. In +spite of the pace at which he was advancing I recognised him as a servant +of Trelethin. + +“Whither so fast, John?” I shouted, in our own tongue. He was past me as +I spoke. + +“The French, the French!” came back to me on the breeze mingled with the +sound of his horses’ rushing hoofs. His voice or my ears failed, for I +heard no more save—when the thunder of the hoofs had ceased, the duller +but more continuous thunder of the waves rolling in freshly at the foot +of the rocks. + +John’s words had left me much astonished. I knew—from my studies under +the divine above referred to—that the French lived in France, where some +of them had lately been engaged in beheading the rest with the help of a +newly discovered machine. So much I knew, but why John Trelethin should +yell “French” at me as he passed, riding apparently for his life, I knew +not. What were the French to him or to me? As I advanced pondering the +matter—but in a purely impersonal manner, and without any keen +interest—at a little distance further along the cliff I espied the owner +of Trelethin, John’s master, standing very firm on his legs against a +background of bright sea, his head inclining somewhat backward, while +with both his raised-up hands he clutched a long spy glass, the small end +whereof was applied to his eye. Following the direction of his +spy-glass, I perceived a yet more astounding sight—astounding to us used +to the world of lonely waters that lay stretched out in front of our +homes. Three ships of war were passing slowly along our coast not far +from land, they were accompanied by a smaller craft, which Mr. Williams +informed me was a lugger. As he had been a sailor I took his word for +it—but it did not make things clearer. What did it all mean? What did +those vessels—or their inhabitants want here? They carried the English +colours, I saw that for myself when Mr. Williams obligingly lent me the +instrument. + +“Take a look for yourself, my boy,” he said—he was a man singularly free +from pride—“Take a look at the blessed Frenchmen.” (He did not say +exactly blessed, but out of respect to my cloth I subdue his expressions +slightly.) + +“Frenchmen!” I cried. Then those were the French in those three vessels. +I did not count the lugger, not being sure of her. Strange to say the +first thought that flitted through my brain was one of pure joy; here was +an excuse, real, tangible, and startling, for having shirked my studies. +With a little help from imagination (his and mine, which might act on +each other as flint on steel, for he was an excitable man), I trusted I +might so alarm my clerical guide and master as to make him quite forget +the fact that I had given to St. David’s Head the time I should have +given to my own. The excuse might be made effective even should they +prove to be not quite really French. + +“They’ve English colours, sir,” I said to Mr. Williams. + +“Foreigners are deceitful,” says he, “up to any tricks. I can see the +scoundrels swarming on the decks.” (For by this time he again had +applied the spy-glass.) “Ah!” he continued, handing the glass to his +wife who had joined us, “If it was but night now and a bit stormy, we +might put out a false light or two and bring them on the rocks in no +time.” + +This was the moment afterwards immortalised by a local bard in these +words— + + “Mrs. Williams Trelethin was know every tide + From England to Greenland without guide. + Mrs. Williams Trelethin was take the spy-glass, + And then she cry out—There they Wass!” + +The three tall ships sailed on calmly, with the clear shining of the sea +around them, dark objects in all that flood of light. They went +northward—along our Pembrokeshire coast, where (had Providence so willed +it) they might have made shipwreck on the sharp rocks anywhere. However +the day was too fair to admit of any such hope. + +The alarm spread quickly; men and boys came bounding over the gorse in +every direction; even the women, with the curiosity of their sex, came +forth from their homesteads, leaving the cawl {51} and the children to +mind themselves, while their natural caretakers gaped open-mouthed at the +tall ships filled with untold dangers. + +The crowd on the cliffs followed in the direction of the ships, keeping +them ever in sight. Helter-skelter we ran along, crossing deep gullies, +then along bare headlands covered only with gorse and large grey stones, +then passing under a great mass of rock, like to some gaunt castle or +fort (but alas, lacking cannon), then, at rare intervals, where a stream +ran into the sea, we would dip suddenly into a smiling little valley +filled with trees and bushes. But the stones and crags prevailed greatly +over the softer scenes. I had now entered so fully into the spirit of +this race that all thought of my studies passed away; the fear of the +dominee was merged in the far greater fear of the French. And yet it was +not wholly fear that possessed me, but a sort of tremor of excitement, +and curiosity as to what might happen next. Noon passed, but none +stopped for food—nor even (till we came to a village) for a Welshman’s +comfort in perplexity—a glass of cwrw da. {52} + +At two o’clock, for no apparent reason, the Frenchmen came to anchor. +This was opposite to a rocky headland called Carn Gwastad, which forms a +portion of Fishguard Bay, some distance to the west of the town of that +name, and, by reason of an intervening headland, quite invisible from it, +and in truth from most other places. We had now come from St. David’s +Head, a distance of full ten miles, and I, for one, was glad to sit down +on a gorse-bush and meditate a little as to what all these things might +mean and where they were like to end, which I hardly dared to hope might +somehow take the form of a bit of dinner for myself. To stay hunger I +composed my mind for a nap while I reflected dreamily that my elders were +taking more definite steps for the defence of their country; and the +knowledge of this was gratifying to me. + + [Picture: Carregwastad] + + + +CHAPTER II. +THE LANDING. + + +Besides Mr. Williams’ John, who had been despatched at full speed to St. +David’s to rouse the inhabitants, another man was sent to give the news +to the Lord-Lieutenant of the county, while others wended their way to +various points on the range of mountains which divides Pembrokeshire into +two parts; the result of their mission being apparent when night fell and +beacons flared along the line of heights from Vrenny Vawr to Carn +Englyn—the mountain of the angels, so named from the angel-visits +received by a pious hermit who dwelt thereon, and who probably lacked +more ordinary society. + +Many other messengers were sent in various directions, but though in this +way persons at a distance were warned of danger, many of those who dwelt +close by were as yet insensible of it. Chiefest of these was the owner +of the old manor house, Trehowel, situated just above the bay where the +ships were lying-to—of which house we shall hear more anon. Mr. Mortimer +was of a generous and confiding disposition—and, as a bishop should be, +he was in truth—much given to hospitality. He was, moreover, about to +celebrate the marriage of his son, and he had made ample provision of +cakes and ale, not to mention meats and spirits for this purpose. The +wedding was to be on the following day (Thursday, the 23rd of February, +to be exact); the new daughter-in-law was much to his mind, and therefore +heart and hand were even more lavish than usual, when, looking out +seaward from amidst the bridal greenery, his spirit was stirred within +him by the sight of the British flag. + +Nothing would serve this hospitable gentleman but that the English +officers should partake of his good cheer; so his orders flew forth in +every direction—compliments and invitations to the officers, and +directions to the servants as to the setting forth of a sumptuous repast. + +In the meantime one of the great ships, heaving anchor, had quietly +slipped round the corner—by which I would say, rounded the next headland, +Pen Anglas, in an undemonstrative manner. Thus coming in sight of the +men occupying the fort near Fishguard; these fired as in duty and fair +observance bound—a salute to the flag that had braved a thousand years, +and had never in all that considerable period of time been put to a viler +use than the present, when—hey presto! down came the British colours with +a run, and up flew the tricolour in its stead—the red, white, and blue +colours of the Republic of the French. + +The astonishment of those men in the fort at this unexpected +transformation-scene must have been akin to an electric shock such as may +be produced on the unwary by the careless placing of a hand on a magnetic +eel. They had been completely deceived by the mock flag, and were more +unprepared for the change than those men who had already scrutinised the +three frigates with very doubtful eyes as they made their way along the +coast of Pembrokeshire. + +All disguise was now over; the enemy showed under their true colours at +last, and convinced even the most liberal-minded (including Mr. Mortimer) +that they were not English. Though truly if they had desired to appear +under their most appropriate colour they should have sailed under the +black flag of piracy, for the men on board these frigates were little +better than freebooters. Many of the older persons present were minded +to take them for a new and enlarged edition of the _Black Prince_—a +pirate ship which had eighteen years previously brought his broadside to +bear on the town of Fishguard, and kept up an animated fire all day with +his six-pounders. However, he caught a Tartar—the master of a smuggling +craft, who returned the fire with such goodwill, aided by clever hands +and a cannon at the edge of the cliffs, that the _Black Prince_ sheered +off. “Set a thief to catch a thief;” but it were ungrateful to think on +that proverb. + +It was this circumstance which caused the fort at Fishguard to be +erected, one of whose nine-pounders had just, in courtesy, saluted the +frigate, who, not caring to face the other seven guns of the fort in +anger, turned round speedily, and rejoined her companions at Carn Gwastad +Point without loss of time. + +On her way she intercepted a sloop which had—perhaps out of curiosity, +perhaps from some nobler motive—ventured too near; probably the master of +the sloop had not expected this sudden rearward movement—anyway he found +himself a prisoner, and his boat a prize. I had jumped up from my +reclining position, and stood watching his fate with anxiety and awe, +knowing him to be a friend (for I was a Fishguard boy, and intimate with +all the varieties of seamen to be found there), but being, at that +distance, unable to tell which friend. + +All the other boats in the bay stood out to sea with all speed, scudding +away with white sails stretched, reminding even a matter-of-fact boy who +abhorred poetry, similes, and all such inventions of schoolmasters, +suggesting even to me the sudden, outspread, white wings of a flock of +ducks frightened by the unwelcome appearance, from round the corner, of a +fox. They got away safe, but the captive sloop was towed in triumph by +the frigate back to Carn Gwastad, where she found her sister ships were +already disgorging their freight of soldiers. + +The sun was setting as the first boats set down their load on British +soil. There were not many spectators of this act (the only one of a like +nature since 1066, as far as my knowledge—not very profound—of history +went), the inhabitants of the district, when they perceived that the +landing was to be on their own coast, having dispersed as quickly as a +swarm of ants amongst whom a foreign body is introduced—each one making +with the utmost speed for his own home in order to retreat with his +valuables (including his family) further into the interior. I, however, +was but young, and concluded that my family, who lived in Fishguard, +could very well take care of themselves; while it was possible that my +father, who was a somewhat stern parent, might not even accept the (to +me) absolute necessity of keeping an eye on the French as a valid excuse +for departing from my studies at St. David’s without leave from my +master. I had a certain amount of fear of the French, I do not deny it; +but it was as yet in the abstract, and was a very different thing from +the absolute fear I had of my father when I caught him (and he caught me) +in a bad mood. Besides, though I considered curiosity a childish and +feminine quality, and as such infinitely beneath my dignity, still I must +own I did feel a sort of craving desire to know what those people were +going to do next. So, hidden in a gorse bush on a headland which +commanded the creek, I watched the sun go down like a red ball into the +sea, throwing a light as of blood on the muskets in the boats beneath me, +making the dark figures that swarmed over the sides of the ships look +darker and more grimy, lighting up the three-coloured flags that unfurled +themselves to the night breeze. Then there came a long path of crimson +right across the grey sea, which, dying out as the sun set, showed that +this fair day was gone—a day too fair and sweet to be the setting for +foul deeds. + +Suddenly there rose a shriek, or, rather, a succession of shrieks +breaking through the twilight quiet, and a young woman shot out like an +arrow from the back door of Trehowel, darted past me without pausing to +answer a question, and, shrieking all the time, fled away into the +interior, clutching tightly in her hand a foaming jug of beer. I heard +afterwards that she ran on for miles, still clutching that jug of beer, +which she had been drawing for the (supposed) English officers; when at +last her master had awakened to the fact that the French were actually at +his doors. She ran thus for miles, not even stopping to drink the beer. + +She was shortly after followed by Mr. Mortimer himself, who came across +the courtyard laughing in spite of the seriousness of the occasion, for +he must needs smile at a joke. He spied me, for indeed I had jumped up +to question Sally, and he came towards me. + +“The poor maid has had a scare,” said he, with a twinkle still in his +eye. “But, in truth, Dan, my boy, I suppose it is time to be off.” + +“Oh, there’s a pity,” said I; “about Master Mortimer’s wedding—and all +the meats and drinks!” + +“Well, yes, I never meant them for the parley-vous,” said he, mounting +his horse which one of his farm-boys had brought out; “but I dare say +they’ll enjoy them all the same—they won’t be wasted.” + +He turned in the saddle to give a last look at his old house, standing +dark against a yellow-green twilight sky, pranked out with all the +mockery of boughs and flowery arches. The trees in the courtyard had not +yet put forth their leaves, but branches of myrtles and ever-blooming +gorse and great bunches of primroses had made the place gay. Mr. +Mortimer’s face changed as he looked; he made no movement with the reins; +he was very loath to leave his home. In his mind’s eye he was viewing +the heap of smoking ruins he might see when next he came, and he seemed +to be resolving to meet fate and the French on his own threshold, when a +woman’s quick step came out of the now-deserted house. + +“Oh, master,” she cried, running up to us, “ar’n’t you off yet! Quick, +there isn’t a minute; they are coming up the hill. For the young +master’s sake,” she whispered. “Remember, you have got the money and the +papers. Quick!” + +He nodded, then shaking his rein, rode off without a word. + +“And what are you going to do, Nancy?” said I. “Isn’t it time for you to +be off too?” + +“Oh, no odds about me. I’ll slip off somehow, but I must get the silver +spoons first.” + +Then she turned from me, and her voice broke suddenly. + +“Wherever is Davy—oh, wherever is he?” she sobbed. + +“Cheer up, Nancy, my maid,” said I, being well acquainted with her, and +only ten years younger—an inequality made up for by my superior station +and parts. “Wherever Davy is he’s in mischief—that you may take your +davy of; but he always comes out of it somehow.” + +I hope the reader will pardon this expression, but I was not at this time +even a curate—being but fifteen—and the chance of my ever attaining that +station seemed but remote. + +At this moment the clang of arms and the sound of high-pitched voices +broke on our ears. + +“I’ll have those spoons if I die for it!” exclaimed Ann, who was not much +given to the melting mood. “Run, Dan, make for Fishguard as fast as you +can.” And without another word or a sign of personal fear, Ann George +disappeared into the house. + +I will not deny now, after the lapse of so many years, that my heart at +this moment beat unpleasantly fast. I had already watched the landing of +some of the French troops, but from a considerable distance, and there +had been something unreal about the scene, something like to play-acting, +or a dream; but now that I actually heard their voices, the effect was +very different. They were really here, close by; there was no mistake +about it. I had an almost overwhelming desire to take to my heels and +run for it, but in spite of a very real fear, two feelings restrained +me—one was a hesitation on account of Nancy, whom it seemed mean to +desert; the other was that curiosity to which I have already alluded, and +which powerfully possesses most of the inhabitants of these regions, but +more especially the females. The twilight was rapidly sinking into +darkness as I crouched lower among the bushes and peered out with eyes +which doubtless resembled those of a frightened bird. Never hare in its +form felt more of a flutter at the heart than I experienced as those +screeching, and yet savage, voices drew nearer and nearer. I did not +understand French, but if I had I trust I should not have understood the +nature of the expressions those men were using. It must be remembered +that at that time we were accustomed to think of a Frenchman as of a +two-legged tiger—which we spelt with a y—and then perhaps the horror that +thrilled me may be understood. Suddenly the vague terror was turned into +reality, as between me and the dusky sky loomed forth a wild figure, then +another and another, then a confused crowd. + +I could stand no more. With one bound I passed from behind my bushes in +through the back door of the house— + +“Nancy, hang those spoons!” I spoke in Welsh, and I fear my expression +was still more forcible. “Come this minute, I’ll wait no longer.” + +“Why, who asked you to wait?” said Ann George, ungratefully. “I thought +you’d be half-way to Goodwick ere this.” + +At this moment her speech was interrupted by a sound as of thunder at the +front door, while the parlour window came flying into the room before the +butt-ends of French muskets. Even Ann George thought it now high time to +take her leave. + +So we departed as quickly and as silently as possible through the back +door, while the front door was being shivered to atoms, and the enemy was +pouring into the house over its remains. Quickly, indeed, we went now +and the falling night favoured us; the enemy’s own noise too rendered the +slight addition of our footfalls totally unobservable. All the space +between Trehowel and the cliffs swarmed with Frenchmen, and the uproar +was bewildering. + +“They’ll make short work with your master’s ale, Nan,” I gasped, as we +ran along under the cover of the earthen banks topped with gorse. + +“Aye, and of the wine and the spirits, and of all the poor young master’s +wedding feast. Oh, indeed, I wish I had known they were coming when I +was baking those pies and brewing that ale!” + +I did not waste my breath by inquiring the reason of this aspiration, for +the hill was rather heavy on my lungs, and her meaning was obvious. In a +very short time we had reached Brestgarn, the abode of a worthy divine, +the Rev. David Bowen, whom we found about to depart hurriedly, he having +been no quicker to hear the alarming tidings than his neighbour at +Trehowel; but, having heard it, he and his family were off for the +interior as fast as horses and fright could take them. Only one of his +servants, a man named Llewelyn, volunteered to stay behind, to keep, as +far as in him lay, an eye upon his master’s place and goods. + +“Let us go to the top of Carnunda,” suggested this man. “We can see +everything from there.” + +Carnunda is a rock situated just above most things in this region; more +especially just under it lies the tiny village and church of +Llanunda—Unda being manifestly a saint, though I cannot truthfully say I +ever heard anything about him—or her. + +We got up to the top of this carn then, and there snugly ensconced +between huge boulders of stone—the place is large enough to hold six or +seven hundred men, well protected by natural rock-work—we gazed on the +scenes all around us. + +First at the creek beneath us. It was now pitch dark—for the night was +as black as the day had been bright—but the three tall ships of war were +lighted up with cressets of fire; the lugger was there and the captured +sloop, and the sea around them was alive with boats, still conveying +troops to the land. The torches that they carried were reflected on the +waves, elsewhere inky black—but here bearing long broken lines of light. +Dark figures swarmed at the landing place, if so one could call, what was +merely some flat slabs of rock; and all up the cliffs we saw ant-like +beings crawling, and even (by the aid of a little imagination) we could +fancy we heard their strong exclamations at the steepness of the +path—made even steeper to them by the nature of their occupation, for +they were rolling casks (evidently heavy) of gunpowder from where the +boats landed them up to the top of the cliff. Some of these dark figures +carried torches which shed a fierce glow for a small space through the +black night. As we looked, one of the casks which had been by much +effort shoved up to well-nigh the top of the cliffs, suddenly slipped +from the Frenchmen’s hands and rolled rapidly down the declivity—the roll +speedily becoming a succession of jumps and plunges, till with a wild +leap the cask fled over a final precipice and disappeared in the sea. + +“Thank the Lord for that,” said Llewelyn. + +Nancy and I laughed aloud. It is impossible to give any idea of the +exultation that we felt. + +“What words they are using over that!” said Nancy. + +“Oh, don’t I wish we were near enough to hear them!” said I, totally +unmindful of my future profession. + +But shortly after we had even greater cause of rejoicing. The enemy (as +we had already learnt to call them) were disembarking their cannon, and +lowering these unwieldly articles of war into a long boat, but zeal +outstripping discretion, they so over-weighted the boat, that lurching +forward heavily she upset, and the whole of her cumbrous cargo was +shortly at the bottom of the sea. It was a satisfaction even to think of +it. Aye, and we may think of it still, for to this very day those +foreign cannon are rolling about and rusting in the unquiet waters of +Carrig Gwastad creek—a proof, should one ever be needed, of the truth of +this strange story. + +“Thank the Lord again,” said Llewelyn. + + + +CHAPTER III. +THE FATE OF THE CLOCK. + + +Great bonfires now lit up the side of the hill beneath Trehowel—in the +place still called the French camp—and scores of dark figures rushed +about with torches flaring wildly in their hands; the whole scene +reminding one forcibly of Pandemonium, that is, if one is capable of +being reminded of a place one has never seen and that one has no desire +to see. + +Even the thought of it at the moment was unpleasant to me as bringing my +neglected studies to my mind, so I hastily turned my attention once more +to the French. + +The boats and the sailors had now returned to their ships, having landed +the invading hordes (which was the term we usually applied to the Gallic +soldiers), who now seemed more bent on cooking than on conquering, on +supping than on surprising. + + [Picture: Cottage at Castell] + +We watched the erection of beams and bars over the huge fires; and the +slinging on to the bars of great pots and pans of all sorts—mostly +intimate friends of poor Nancy who watched all these proceedings with +many a groan and warm ejaculation as she thought of all her wasted +scrubbings in the back kitchen of Trehowel. The precise number of the +men who landed that night on a bit (though remote) of Great Britain was +fourteen hundred; of whom six hundred were regular troops, and eight +hundred were convicts of the basest sort, described, indeed, in the +pamphlets of the time as the sweepings of the gaols. Besides these, +there were two women; and had the fourteen hundred been animated by the +spirit which possessed these two of the weaker sex, the result might have +been much more unpleasant to the Principality than it actually was. + +The Welsh woman beside me was not by any means deficient in spirit +either, it even sometimes took the form of temper, yet to my astonishment +I heard the sound of sobs which could only proceed from her, as Llewelyn +was hardly likely to relieve his feelings in this way. + +“Oh, Master Dan, wherever is Davy?” she again asked. She called me +“master” when she remembered what I was going to be, otherwise my father +being only a small tradesman in Fishguard, I was more frequently called +Dan. I do not think I have given any description of Ann George, boys do +not, as a rule, think much of personal appearance; nor did I. My idea of +Nancy had been chiefly connected with the peppermints she had been in the +habit of giving me as a child; I thought her a person of a free and +generous disposition. She was a tall, fine young woman of five and +twenty, with dark hair and eyes (these last being dark grey not brown), +decided but pretty eyebrows, a well-shaped nose, and rather large mouth +which disclosed when she laughed or talked (which was frequently) +handsome white teeth. In short, she was the type of a good-looking Welsh +woman. She had also a healthy colour, a warm heart, and a splendid +appetite. It was not very surprising that she had (or had had) two +admirers. + +I at once referred to this fact with a boy’s utter want of delicacy in +matters of sentiment. + +“What are you bothering about Davy for? I thought it was Jim you liked.” + +“Don’t you ever say that fellow’s name to me again, Dan’el,” said Nancy +with animation, her tears dried up and her eyes sparkling. “I hope never +to hear of James Bowen again so long as I live.” + +I whistled. “Was that because he got into trouble for horse-stealing? +Why, as to that, Davy’s none too particular.” + +“Dear anwyl, Dan, talk of what you understand, or hold your tongue! What +do I care for their customs and laws? ’Deed to goodness, nothing at all. +As to James Bowen if it had been only that—but there, a child like you +can’t understand things.” + +“Can’t I!” I shouted, thoroughly incensed—of course we spoke in Welsh, +and used a good many more exclamations than I have set down here. “Can’t +I, indeed. I only know smuggling is—” + +“Don’t quarrel, children,” said Llewelyn, who was of a quiet disposition. +“And don’t shout or you’ll bring the French upon us. Silence holds it +here. {80} Just look there!” + +He pointed towards the opposite direction to that in which we had been +looking, and where the French were still clambering about the cliffs +dragging up the last of their barrels of ammunition and brandy. He +pointed towards the steep road which leads from Goodwick to Fishguard. +This road was thronged with people, horses, carts, furniture, cattle all +mixed together, and all (the animate ones at least) making their way with +such speed as their legs and the hill permitted away from the immediate +neighbourhood of the invaders. The lights which some of them carried, +and the glare from some gorse which had been set on fire, lit up the +straggling, toiling multitude. + +Further off the semi-circle of hills blazed with warning beacons. It was +a sight never to be forgotten; a sight that had not been seen in this +island for centuries. From our high nest in the rocks we had but to turn +our heads to see all. In front of us to the north stretched the sea; a +little to the north-west was the creek where the French had landed, where +we could dimly discern the tall masts of the war-ships lighted up +fitfully by cressets of fire. At the top of the cliff was Trehowel, and +close by was the French camp surmounted by the tricolor flag. A little +nearer us was Brestgarn, where Llewelyn lived, and just at our feet was +the village and church of Llanunda. Goodwick lay to the east of us; +there was a steep hill down to it, a magnificent flat of sands, with sea +on one side and marsh on the other, and then a steep hill up from it +leading ere long to Fishguard. The sea came round the corner from the +north in order to form that deep and beautiful Goodwick Bay, where trees +and rocks, gardens and wild waves, luxuriant vegetation and marshy +barrenness are so strangely mixed. Behind all, to the south and +southeast came the mountains; and towards the fastnesses therein most of +these fugitives were wending their way. + +“Deuks!” said Llewelyn, “they are coming out to see what they can get, +the scoundrels; I must run back to Brestgarn.” + +“Let me come,” said I, on the impulse of the moment—though my knees shook +as I saw small dark clumps of men leaving the main mass and coming +towards us; but Llewelyn inspired confidence, and curiosity has a courage +of its own; then I suddenly bethought me of Ann George. + +“But what will you do, Nancy?” I asked. + +“I will go to my Aunt Jemima, I’ll be safe enough with her; don’t trouble +about me, my dear,” said Nancy, our short-lived quarrel being happily +over. + +“That is in Fishguard, you can’t go there alone, wait a bit for me,” said +I, with youthful assurance. + +“I can hide you at Brestgarn if you want to come, but better go on to +Fishguard,” said Llewelyn. + +By this time, however, we were almost at the farm, for we had run down +the steep side of Carnunda without any delay. + +As we drew near to the house we found from the uproar therein that it was +already full of Frenchmen. Very cautiously we approached a window and +peeped in. We saw a strange sight. The kitchen was filled with ragged +ruffianly fellows, all gesticulating with all their limbs, and screeching +with all their lungs. Of course we did not understand a word they said, +which, perhaps, was no loss under the circumstances. They were dressed +in all sorts of uniforms—some of them in a dusky red (our soldiers’ coats +dyed, as I afterwards heard), others wore the regular dark blue of the +French army. An enormous fire blazed on the hearth, on which they had +placed a large brass pan, geese and fowls only half-feathered had been +hastily thrown into it, and now they were literally cramming it with +butter, which they dug out of a cask they had dragged in from the dairy. +Suddenly a shout arose, apparently from the ground beneath us. + +“Deuks!” said Llewelyn, again. “They’ve found the port.” + +Llewelyn did not allude to any of the harbours in the neighbourhood, but +rather, it may be, to the lack of one, which had perhaps occasioned the +wrecking of a vessel from Oporto laden with the wine of the district. + +“No odds, don’t fret for the wine,” whispered Nancy. “We’ll get plenty +again. I only hope there’s a good store of brandy in the houses, too.” + +We got our brandy in a different way, but also inexpensively, and there +was at times a considerable stock of it, and tobacco, too, in the +farmhouse cellars. + +Llewelyn, however, was much perturbed: he had volunteered to stay to look +after the household goods, and he didn’t seem to be able to do much. The +delight of the Frenchmen at such an unexpected treasure-trove was indeed +exasperating. Down flowed the generous liquid through throats the +outsides of which were much in want of shaving, elbows were raised, and +voices also in the intervals of quaffing. Suddenly one man paused in his +potations, the brass face of the old clock that stood in the corner had +caught his eye, and the loud ticking of it had caught his ear. +Screeching something that sounded like “enemy,” he levelled his musket +and fired straight at the clock. The bullet went through the wood-work +with a loud sound of splitting. + +“Brenhin mawr!” yelled Llewelyn, forgetting all caution in his +exasperation. “The scoundrels have shot our eight day clock!” + +Unfortunately his remark was overheard; and indeed his yell shot into the +midst of those rioting ruffians like a pebble into a wasp’s nest. Out +they flew, evidently infuriated; but we waited for no explanations, +taking to our heels on the instant, with the promptitude of extreme fear. +Nan and I were light of heel, and favoured by the darkness—yet more black +to those who came from that blaze of light—we got clear away; but turning +ere long to look, we perceived that Llewelyn had not been so fortunate, +he was older and a good deal heavier than we were; and then his righteous +anger had rendered him rather breathless before he began to run. He was +now surrounded by a crowd of foreigners, all jabbering and gesticulating +as hard as possible. Our hearts were sore at having to leave our +companion in this plight, but there was no help for it, to attempt a +rescue would have been, under the circumstances, worse than folly. So we +ran along across country, avoiding all roads, and making straight for +Goodwick. + + + +CHAPTER IV. +THE PRIEST’S PEEP-HOLE. + + +As Nancy and I puffed and panted in as noiseless a manner as possible up +the steep hill from Brestgarn, we saw, or, more strictly speaking, we +heard all around us, foraging parties of the enemy, who were making off +with everything they could lay their hands upon. The screeching of +poultry, the quacking of ducks, the cackling of geese, the grunting and +squealing of pigs (I might go on as long as some foreign Delectus, but +that I fear to weary the reader) together with the oaths and laughter of +the Frenchmen, formed a medley of sound that might have been pleasing to +the ears of a musician composing a symphony on rural sounds, but that to +a more ordinary listener formed a hubbub of noise that was bewildering +and extremely distasteful; while poor Nancy’s vexation at the fate of the +dwellers in the farm-yard equalled her indignation at the use made of her +well-scrubbed pans. + +Not a single inhabitant of this district seemed to be left, every cottage +was deserted; all had fled for the present, in order to turn again with +greater force and rend the intruder—as one may draw back for a space so +as to gain the necessary impetus for a spring. + +We had reached the village of Llanunda, when we heard a considerable body +of the enemy marching along the road near us, on their way to take +possession of our rocky nest on the top of Carnunda. This very strong +position formed the enemy’s outpost, and it ought to have been a matter +of no small difficulty to oust them therefrom, had they but planted +themselves firmly in it. + +To our great dismay we now heard voices approaching us from the other +side; these proved to be some of the foraging parties making themselves +acquainted with the larders and cellars of all the neighbouring houses. +We crouched down lower among the gorse bushes, and I at least knew +precisely the sensations experienced by a hunted and hiding hare. When +this danger, too, was happily overpast, at all events for the moment, +Nancy whispered to me— + +“Dan, they are a deal too near us here, and there’s more coming. I know +a better hiding-place than this. Let’s make for the church.” + +I assented willingly; and we made as fast as we could for the church. It +was a small but ancient building, full of queer holes and corners, with +the which Nancy was better acquainted than I was, it being her parish +church. The door was happily unfastened, but no Frenchmen had as yet +invaded the sacred building, for we took the precaution of looking +through the “leper’s hole” as soon as we had entered the porch. The +leper’s hole is a little square window, the sides of which are so sloped +as to command a view of the interior of the church, more especially of +the chancel; so that in the old times even these miserable wretches—set +apart in the porch—might still behold the high altar. + +We then looked with eagerness through this orifice, and perceived gladly +that the building was dark and empty. So pushing open the door, we +entered our sanctuary as though it had been a veritable city of refuge. +Our first care was to secure the door as well as we could on the inside; +then Nancy sat down in order to fetch her breath, while I reviewed the +place and the situation. Neither were to my mind when I came to think of +it. + +“What have you come here for, Nan?” I inquired. “I don’t like it—we’ll +be caught here like rats in a trap. We can’t hide in the pulpit. I’d +rather a gorse-bush in the open, now.” + +“Wait a bit, Dan, till I fetch my breath—and don’t talk; they may hear +you,” said Nancy, not considering that she was talking herself. + +“Oh do make haste with your breath,” said I, “and tell me where it is.” +I was full of curiosity to know where her hiding-place could be: the +church was pitch dark, a few minutes of silence there seemed an age. +“It’s not in a vault, is it?” I continued. + +“A vault—bless the boy—no! I’m not going into a vault before I can help +it. Well, if you won’t be quiet, I suppose I’d better show you the +place. It is at the other side of the church. Come across quietly, +now.” + +We did go across as quietly as we could, considering the pitch darkness +of the place, all blocked up with high pews according to the fashion of +the time. In my after-career I had often occasion to reprove the +occupiers of like boxes, who, trusting to their wooden walls to screen +them, slumbered happily within a few yards of me, utterly forgetful of +the treachery of their own noses. + +After having injured her shins several times over unexpected obstacles, +Nancy sighed forth, “Oh for a light!” + +“Oh for something to eat!” I responded. “I’ve got a flint and steel in +my pocket; but I can’t eat that. You can have it if you like.” + +“I daren’t strike a light,” said Nancy; “but I’ve got a bit of cheese in +my pocket along with the silver spoons. Here, stretch out your hand.” + +“Don’t you want it?” I felt impelled by manners to say this, though I +felt wolfish. + +“Not I. I had my dinner as usual. I put it in my pocket in case of +meeting—a friend.” + +“Do your—friends like cheese?” I asked with my mouth full. + +“You seem to, any way,” retorted Nancy. “I hear them coming.” + +I bolted the cheese in a panic. I felt much more afraid of the French +since I had seen them so near in Brestgarn kitchen, and since they had +nabbed Llewelyn. + +“Here’s the hole—you go first. I’ll close it up after us with a pew +door.” + +Nancy dexterously lifted one off its hinges, while I, mounted on the back +of a pew, groped my way into a pitch dark cavity in the wall, the +entrance to which was situated at the height of some three or four feet +above the floor-level. + +“Take care, there are steps,” said Nan, just as I had discovered the fact +by the aid of my shin-bone. She was still wrestling with the pew door, +and I smothered my agony chiefly, I must own, from fear of the French. + +“Get on a bit higher up, Dan,” whispered Ann, as she followed me, +dragging the door after her as quietly as she could. Nancy was certainly +a wonderful woman, with a head on her shoulders. + +At this moment I felt that it was so, for I was propelled somewhat +violently upward by the member in question. I can also add my testimony +that she was a hard-headed woman. She was also perhaps a little +hard-hearted, for in answer to my remonstrance, “Hold hard, Nancy, that +hurts!” she merely said, + +“Oh, do get on, Dan; I expect them here every minute.” + +I did get on, and found after mounting half-a-dozen steps of a twirling +stair, that my head was opposite an opening just at the place where the +roof of the church sprung; one of the oaken beams was, in fact, a little +scooped out to make room for this slit, which being under the heavy +shadow of the woodwork was almost completely screened from the glances of +those below; while to the person placed behind this coign of ’vantage the +whole of the interior of the church was visible—chancel as well as nave. + +“What a queer place—what’s it for, Nancy?” I asked. + +“That is called the Priest’s Peep-hole; I suppose in old times he got a +friend to go up there and keep an eye on the congregation—see who went to +sleep, and what they were at altogether,” explained Nan; but at this +moment her eloquence came to a sudden end. Our voices and our hearts +died within us, for there came to our ears the dreaded but expected +sound—the clamorous jabber of many tongues. + +The sounds came from the churchyard, but I doubt if even a company of +good Welsh ghosts would have frightened us as much as these earthly +foreigners. Very, very earthly and carnal-minded did they seem to us at +this moment. + +“They won’t come into a church—they won’t rob a church!” I whispered to +Ann, leaning my head down close to her’s—a difficult feat, but I was as +thin as a lath then. + +“Won’t they?” said Ann, scornfully. “You wait a minute—Hst!” + +Nan’s appreciation of character and computation of time proved equally +correct. She had fixed the pew-door by this time, and she held it firmly +in its place by the handle, which she had taken care to put on the inward +side when she lifted up the barrier across the entrance to the stair. + +“I hope they won’t fire through that like they did through the clock at +Brestgarn, on the chance of finding some one behind it,” I whispered to +my companion as this comfortable idea flashed through my mind, even the +terror of the French failing to curb my natural love of suggesting a +terror. + +“Hst!” retorted Nan; “hold your tongue, can’t you, and keep your head +down; don’t let them see you peeping, Dan!” + +Nancy’s caution to me came not a moment too soon, for crash! a rush of +men and muskets at the door, whose rickety bolts we had drawn when we +entered, chiefly in the hope that they might not be tried. But if we +drew them as a sort of charm, the spell was not strong enough, nor were +the locks. + +C-r-a-ck—_crack_! the feeble bolts gave a groan, and open flew the door +with a sharp, splitting sound. In rushed ten or a dozen Frenchmen, +tumbling over one another in their haste. The church was lighted up with +a sudden blaze from their torches; this was all I saw, for on the +entrance of the enemy I had ducked my head speedily. Ann could see still +less, as she was crouched on the bottom step, and was keeping the door in +its place with her knees. + +The noise in the church was terrific, but yet to my ears the beating of +my heart was still louder. The more I tried to silence it, the more it +ticked. + +“Perhaps they’ll think it’s a clock,” I reflected. + +“Oh, dear! oh, dear!” + +Yet after a while, as I grew more accustomed to the clamour, I became +possessed by a desire to know what these men were doing. Very cautiously +I raised my head. I feared my hair must be standing on end, which would +make it more perceptible by an inch or two. Instinct had made me take +off my hat as we entered the building; in crossing the dark aisle I had +dropped it, and I hoped sincerely no one would find it, as it might lead +to unpleasant investigations. Planted finally on my hands and knees, I +raised myself till my eyes were on a level with the lowest part of the +priest’s peep-hole, and then, even veiling my eyes with half-closed lids +as a precaution, I glanced furtively forth at the foreign marauders +beneath me. They had not gone through the ceremony of removing their +hats, and their object in entering the sacred edifice was evidently +simply the hope of plunder. With the butt ends of their muskets they +knocked and thrust at everything, as if to ascertain of what it was made, +and whether anything of value might not be concealed within it. One +half-drunken fellow came and gave a mighty bang to the cushion belonging +to the pulpit, which he snatched from its proper position and dashed +against the wall, immediately under my spy-hole. I imagine that the +worthy incumbent must have been less given to pulpit thumping than most +of his fellows, for out flew a cloud of dust, reaching even to my +nostrils. A smothered sneeze was the result. Instantly I felt myself +violently pulled by the leg from below; indeed, so provoked was Nancy +that she could not resist giving me a shake, though I am sure the candid +reader will allow I was not to blame in the matter. + +Unluckily the Frenchman had heard the sneeze, and some animated +conversation went on between him and his companions, who, however, seemed +inclined to ridicule his assertions. Judging from the tone of their +remarks (for Nancy held too tight a grip of me to allow of my seeing +anything), I should say that their language to each other was not so +polite as one might have expected from men of their nation. However, my +particular enemy did not seem inclined to allow himself to be set down +after this fashion; for, dropping his cushion, he proceeded to make an +investigation with his clubbed musket. Walls, pews, and benches, he +thumped them all indiscriminately, giving a sounding whack to the door +which closed our retreat. But Nancy’s knees did not flinch, though they +must have received a most unpleasant jar. Luckily the entrance to the +hidden stair was in a very dark and out-of-the way corner, and also at a +very unusual height from the ground. Mercifully at this moment our +tormentor’s attention was distracted by a shout from his comrades, who +had entered the little vestry, and had forced open the cupboard +containing the sacramental vessels. These were very ancient, and were of +silver, and the glee of the finders was easily understood even by those +in our retired situation. + +Others of the invaders broke open the chest containing the parish +records, but, much disappointed by the nature of the contents, they tore +forth the documents and tossed them on the floor of the church. Human +nature was no longer to be restrained, neither by fear nor by Ann, so I +once more popped my head up and beheld a strange sight. One of the men +had thrown a torch in among the parchments and papers, a bright flame +lighted up the dark interior of the church, and shone on the fierce faces +of the men around the fire, two of whom were struggling for the +possession of the communion cup. + +“Great Heaven, we shall be burnt like rats, Nan!” I whispered to my +companion, but she answered by her favourite expression, “Hst!” + +One soldier, I imagine by way of a joke, now threw the pulpit cushion on +the flames, whereupon such dense clouds of smoke arose as speedily +cleared the church of the invaders, but alas, nearly stifled us, the +lawful inhabitants. Luckily the floor of the church was of slate, and +the fire was not very near any woodwork. + +Nancy insisted that we must bear our suffocation in silence and +motionless, and though my eyes watered and my heart rebelled, not a cough +nor a wheeze, nor even a word, did I suffer to escape me, but to my +thoughts at least I gave free rein. After a while these too played the +truant, wandering away from my enemies and dreamily fixing themselves on +my master at St. David’s, my school friends, my books, the moving waters +that framed in every picture of my life, till, becoming more and more +indistinct, I imagine that I must have fallen fast asleep, though this is +a matter that none can speak of with any certainty till it comes to the +sharp act of awakening, which act assures us, in the most matter-of-fact +manner, that we have been asleep. + +In this way, by a sharp fact, indeed, no other than Nancy’s elbow, I made +the discovery that, in spite of my uncomfortable position, I must have +fallen sound asleep, tired out by my long walk and many subsequent runs, +and fatigued also by the number of new ideas forced on my mind by the +action of the extraordinary events of the day and the many bewildering +things I had seen and heard since breakfast time that morning. + +It seemed to me to have been but a few minutes from the time the French +left us choking in the smoke till I felt that elbow of Nancy’s, of which +I took no notice. Indifferent to this silent scorn, she now pulled me +vigorously by the leg. + +“Wake up, Dan! Wake up, boy; we must get away from here at once; we +ought to have gone long ago, but I fell asleep, worse luck. Come now, at +once, it’s just daylight.” + +We had, indeed, quite suddenly, as it seemed to me, reached the morning +of Thursday. + + + + +THURSDAY. +_THE SECOND DAY_. + + +CHAPTER V. +DAVY JONES’ LOCKER. + + +The fear of the French returning suddenly shook the drowsiness out of my +eyes. I gave them a final rub, then stumbled down the crooked steps +after Nancy. How she could have guessed that it was now near dawn—as in +our corner it was still pitch-dark—was a mystery to me; but probably the +habit of waking up daily at an extremely early hour, as was the wont of +milk-maids in those days, had accustomed her to know the time to a +nicety. + +We crept as quietly as we could down from our uncomfortable hiding-place, +so stiff and cramped that we could only move with difficulty, and every +bone made its particular position known with great accuracy, even to us +who were totally unacquainted with anatomy. Then we carefully +reconnoitred our situation. + + [Picture: Ransacked Farmhouse] + +As far as we could see, looking through the church windows on every side, +we gazed only into the dim dusk of early morning into a lifeless world. +No little bird as yet sent up his morning song; there were no sheep or +cattle to be seen, their lawful owners or the invaders having driven them +off to securer quarters or to sudden death, as the case might be. The +church itself, after the late uproar, seemed very silent now; the fire +had quickly died down, smothered by the pillow; only the heavy smell of +smoke remained to prove that the wild doings of the night had not been a +terrifying dream. + +We crept along to the leper’s hole, using the other end of it now; for +the unfortunate outcasts of former days had gazed through the tube into +the church, while we unhappy fugitives looked warily from the interior +into the porch, to see if haply some blue-coated soldier might have been +left there on guard. But if this had been the case he had certainly +declined to stay, which was not unlikely considering the lax discipline, +or, rather, total want of discipline, which prevailed in the French +force. At all events, the porch was empty. + +So after a little getting behind each other and a slight backwardness in +going forward, owing more to uncertainty of light than natural timidity, +at last we ventured out boldly into the porch, and took a good look, our +necks stretched out over the churchyard and round the country. The +former seemed silent and deserted, the tombstones looming darkly into dim +twilight, which still lay heavy on the land; nor could we even discern +any sound of snoring. Carnunda was crowned with fires and thronged with +soldiers, but it was not very near, and we thought we might slip away +unnoticed. So, cautiously we closed the door behind us, and fared forth. +The porch lay to the south of the church; we were stealing round the +building to the north, or seaward side, as being further removed from +Carnunda, when we were stopped by a sudden shout, proceeding apparently +from the air above us. Our hearts stood still and our blood froze with +terror—at least, I know mine did, and Nancy turned an ashy white in the +grey dawn. In an instant we looked up to the place from which our enemy +had spied us—the roof of the church, where he had been stationed as a +sentinel. He sat astride on the ridge, which could be easily gained by +means of a flight of steps, made on the outside of the roof, as a +look-out place from which to signal to those at sea; but never designed +for such a purpose as the present. The discipline had not been so lax as +we hoped. For a moment we were stupefied, wishing only that one of the +graves would open and take us in. Then we took to our heels. Down came +the Frenchman clattering over the roof of the church, from the edge of +which he dropped to the ground, only a distance of eight or nine feet; +then he came full cry after us. His shouts had attracted the attention +of a couple of his fellows, who were strolling along the cliffs in search +of what they could devour, or, still better, drink. They joined the +chase instantly, and all three came full tear after Nancy and myself, who +had headed straight for the cliffs, as one of our own foxes would have +done, though what we were to do when we gained them save plunge into the +sea we knew not. However, we were not fated to gain them just at +present, for one of the Frenchmen had outrun Nancy, whose limbs were +still cramped, and who was weary from want of rest and sleep. I was +stiff and tired too, but fear of the French made me fly, and would have +done so I think had I been doubled up by rheumatism. However, though Nan +was caught, and warned me of her disaster by a shrill scream, I am glad +to say she preserved her usual Welsh spirit, as she plainly showed by +fetching the Frenchman a sounding box on the ear. I hesitated what to +do, divided between fear of the French and the desire of standing by my +friend. I am glad to say I had advanced a few steps towards an attempt +at rescue, when some dark body rushed past me in the dawning light, and +ere I could even exclaim, the Frenchman lay flat on the ground. The +other two, half drunk, and wholly stupefied, perceiving that things were +going somewhat crookedly, departed as quickly as they could, making for +the camp at Carnunda. Our rescuer had a mind to follow them, but Ann +laid a restraining hand upon his arm. + +“Oh, Dio bach,” {115} she said, “I am glad to see you this time, if I +never was before.” + +And she really looked as if she could have kissed him. + +“Nancy, how came you here; why didn’t you go away with the rest?” asked +Davy Jones, abruptly, his voice rough and angry. He had had too great a +scare to be tender or even civil. + +“Why, I had to stop and see to everything—and the silver spoons,” said +Nancy, quite meekly. + +“Hang the silver spoons,” said Davy. “Now what’s to be done with this +carcase?” And he pointed to the unconscious Frenchman. “Get out of the +way, Nancy, and I’ll shove him over the cliff.” + +“No, no, don’t waste time,” exclaimed Nancy; “we’ll have the whole lot +after us in a minute; they’re as thick as ants on Carnunda. How can we +get away?” + +“Down the cliff as fast as you can. I’ve got a boat down below; if we +can get to the caves we’ll do; but I had some of them after me a little +while ago, and I landed here to get rid of them, and to find out what had +become of you, for Llewelyn of Brestgarn told me you were somewhere +near.” + +“Llewelyn is a prisoner; did you see him? Is he safe?” asked Nancy, as +we hurried along. + +“Hush, quick and quiet; I’ll tell you in the boat,” whispered Davy. + +We plunged down through dry bracken, gorse bushes, and large boulders of +stone, interspersed with steep pieces of cliff. We jumped, slid, and +tumbled down, clutching hold of grasses and ferns to stay our speed, and +in a few moments we had reached the level of the sea. + +The boat had been so cunningly hidden—with the dexterity of constant +practice—that Nan and I quite failed to discover it. Davy, however, had +it out in a trice. + +“Jump in, boy, and give a hand to Nancy.” + +Nancy did not require a hand, she jumped in very steadily, and took the +rudder. Davy threw me one oar, took the other himself, and we were off, +stealing noiselessly along under the great cliffs, where darkness still +dwelt. But the sky over our heads grew lighter every moment, and we +ruefully perceived that ere long it would be broad day. Yet it seemed +safer to be on the water than on the land, where we could even now +discern dim figures looking for us. + +“Ah, what is that?” in a horror-struck whisper from Ann. + +_That_ was a dark blue object, very unpleasing to behold, sodden with +water, and wedged in a crevice of the cliffs. + +“That is one of them,” said Davy, grimly, “cleft to the chin by a scythe +in a Welshman’s hands. The ruffians had burnt his cottage, with his old +mother in it; he caught this one, that’s all. I wish I had served that +fellow up there the same, Nancy.” + +“Where have you been, Davy?” I asked, to divert his remorseful thoughts, +and unable to restrain my curiosity. + +“Among these blacks of parlez-vous. They nabbed me last night as neat as +could be—we had a bit of a scrimmage though. I was coming back from a +little bit of business.” + +“Oh, Davy, you shouldn’t!” from Ann. + +“And I got in too near, never expecting ships here; who would? We were +round the corner and on them almost, before we knew it; we made off then, +but they saw us and gave chase. We made as fast as we could for a place +I know, a good out-of-the-way cave—we’ve got a few about here, Nan—and +they came after us. They’d some man who knew the coast among them, that +I’ll swear; any stranger must have found out the sharpness of our rocks; +but not a bit of it. On they came quite comfortable, and close behind us +they were as we got to the mouth of the cave. Levi Mathias stood up in +the bow of the boat ready to jump ashore when one of the French marines +shot him. I hope to have something to say before that’s done with yet. +Out tumbled our men anyhow, running through the surf and up the cliffs, +into the darkness anywhere, for the Frenchmen carried torches as well as +muskets. Well, they nabbed me.” + +“You didn’t like to leave Levi,” said Nancy, softly. + +“I didn’t like to leave the brandy,” said Davy. “They got it, though, +and me, tight enough. It put them into a good temper, however, and they +didn’t shoot me through the head, like they did a farmer that they made +help to roll up their casks of ammunition, when he tried to escape. They +made me carry up one of my own kegs which went against the grain; then +they took me to their chief.” + +“Did you see the chief?” I asked, eagerly. + +“’Deed to goodness, yes—General Tate—no more a Frenchman than I am; +Irish, I’m thinking. He seemed very uneasy, and none of his men minded +him. I had company—John Owen, of the sloop _Britannia_, laden with culm +for Llanstinan—they didn’t care for culm, and were cross to him, and a +mortal fright he was in, but had sense enough left to tell them a lot of +lies. Then I saw Llewelyn, and had a word on the sly with him; he told +me you were hereabouts; I watched my chance, and an hour or two ago I +slipped down over the cliffs, seized this boat, and made off; but they +saw me from one of the ships, and gave chase, and—” + +A cry interrupted him, succeeded by a loud splashing of oars. + +“And, hang them, there they are again. Why-ever couldn’t you hold your +tongue, Dan?” + +This was unjust, as Davy had done all the talking himself; but the +present was no moment for arguing. We bent to the oars with a will and +in silence, till my hands were blistered, my heart panting, and my back +breaking, and still the enemy were gaining on us. + +Nancy leant forward. + +“Change with me for a spell, Dan. I can row.” + +On we went again, fast, faster, and still the other boat came on after us +yet more rapidly—it was like a nightmare. We came in very close to the +cliffs now, and Davy took both oars. In between two reefs of rocks we +went—a deep channel, yet full of treacherous windings and turnings. + +“I think we’ll do now,” said Davy. “Please Providence, they may easily +be smashed to atoms here.” + +And he looked gratefully at the sharp rocks. + +But I turned after a little, and beheld that phantom-like pursuer still +following us closely through the windings of the passage. The reefs had +now become high cliffs, and seemed to close us in on every side; but as +we came round another corner we saw before us a low archway. Through +this we shot, and we found ourselves as it were at the bottom of a +tea-cup, with precipitous walls on every side; just in front of us a +little sandy beach. Davy pushed the boat towards a narrow slit in the +rocks. + +“Jump in there, my girl,” he said. “Don’t be afraid; if you slip, I’ll +catch you.” + +Nancy jumped at once, I followed her, landing half in and half out of the +water, but quickly drawing myself up to be out of Davy’s way, who came +with a mighty rush—at the same time spinning the boat to the other side +of the creek—only just in time, the Frenchmen were in the archway. + +“Go on as far as you can,” whispered Davy. “If they see this slit, they +can only come one at a time, and—” + +He didn’t finish, but it wasn’t necessary. Nan and I stumbled on in the +interior, and found ourselves ere long in quite a large cave, where even +in the dusky light we could discern objects extremely like kegs, also +bales and packages of all sorts. Outside we heard the cries and screams +of the Frenchmen, baulked of their prey; for (probably fortunately for +themselves) they did not discover the narrow and hidden entrance to our +cave. We were soon joined by Davy, who remarked that if they had a guide +with them, there were a few things he didn’t know yet. + +“There’s plenty of food here—and spirits—if we want to stay,” he +continued; “but perhaps we may as well get to the top and see what is +going on.” + + + +CHAPTER VI. +WELSH WIVES. + + +We did prefer (as soon as we had got our breath again) knowing what was +going on in our usual world overhead to remaining in ignoble security in +Davy’s locker, for so we named his cave. Accordingly we scrambled and +crawled and pushed our way up the far-end of the cavern, till at last the +aperture resembled a chimney lined with ferns instead of soot more than +aught else. We emerged at last into the open air full of morning +sunshine, and perceived that we were now quite beyond the enemy’s lines +and once more among our own people. + +The first thing to be done in this situation was naturally—to talk; as +good and true Celts we all agreed to that; and when we got into the +high-road we found no dearth of people to talk to. They were gathering +like ants from every quarter, and the one topic which each man liked to +discourse on was simply this: how he was going to fight the French. The +bonfires last night had aroused the country, and some of the men we met +had come from distant parts of the county. + +Among other items of news they told us that the men of St. David’s had +rushed in a body to their cathedral, from the roof of which they had +insisted on tearing off the lead; six blacksmiths had come forward, and +had at once cast the said lead into bullets. Old and young, master and +man, all had turned out. A dissenting minister was there (the Reverend +Mr. Jones was his name), and after him marched all the men of his +congregation. The news had come as he was preaching to them, and the +worthy man had at once changed rhetoric for action. “Let us fight a good +fight,” said he, and proceeded to put his words to the proof and himself +at the head of his men. + +A choleric major rode about the lanes near St. Dogmael’s collecting +recruits. He met a Mr. Jones (another one): “Come along to fight the +French,” was Major James’ greeting. But Mr. Jones had business which +called him elsewhere. + +“By the Lord Harry,” said the Major, drawing his sword, “if you don’t +come this minute I’ll slice your head off like a turnip.” + +The fear of the French was an unknown quantity, but the fear of the Major +was very well known indeed, and Mr. Jones went. + +We mingled exultantly with the throng of our people, and presently our +eyes were gladdened by the sight of a gallant body of men—all well +equipped and well mounted—the Castle Martin Yeomanry. These were joined +by the Cardiganshire Militia, the Fencible Infantry of Colonel Knox, and +some seamen and artillery, the whole under the command of Lord Cawdor. + +We had got into Fishguard by this time, and we hung about the door of the +“Royal Oak,” where a council of war was being held by our +officers—namely, Lord Milford, Lord Cawdor, Colonel Knox, Colonel Colby, +Colonel Ackland, Colonel Dan Vaughan, Major James, and the Governor of +Fishguard Fort, Colonel George Vaughan. The troops formed in the +turnpike road just outside the town, and here we three had to separate, +for Davy wished to accompany the troops, Ann to join her Aunt Jemima, and +I to get something to eat at my father’s house, for I had only had hasty +snatches hitherto, and I had a growing boy’s appetite. My parent was so +much astonished at the course of events that he was not even surprised to +see me when I walked, as bold as brass, into his shop; and never even +asked if I had taken French leave of my master. But before satisfying my +natural filial affection I (together with Davy) escorted Nancy to the +abode of her relative, who, however, was not at home. As we turned to +go, Nancy having taken leave of Davy in an affectionate manner, because, +as she said, he had appeared just in the nick of time, we espied that +stalwart female, Jemima Nicholas, coming along the road from Goodwick +surrounded by twelve Frenchmen, {129} whom she had had the courage and +address to bring—probably allured by false promises—all the way from +Llanunda; assisted by the military, she now conducted them into the +guard-house at Fishguard. + +Leaving Nancy under the efficient protection of her aunt with light +hearts, Davy and I went our several ways; but ere long, after recounting +my adventures and receiving a large amount of hero-worship from my +mother, I once more found myself on the road leading to the scene of +action. It seemed impossible to keep away. On the top of a high rock I +saw a crowd of people in a state of great and evident excitement. I +hastened to join them, and perceived at once the reason of their +gesticulations. There were the three tall men-of-war and the lugger, +with all sail set, standing out from the land, and apparently sailing +away with all speed to the place from whence they came. We could hardly +believe our eyes. We looked at Carnunda; there floated the French flag, +and the rocks were dark with men. + +“The Lord hath delivered them into our hand,” said the Reverend Mr. +Jones, who stood near. + +This sight increased the confidence of our people amazingly, as much as +(we afterwards heard) it struck dismay into the hearts of General Tate +and his men, they not being animated by the spirit which moved the +classic heroes to burn their boats so as to destroy the means of retreat +and to force themselves to action. The base desertion of their comrades, +the large supply of brandy in the farm-house cellars, and a providential +but comic mistake, seem to have been the three principal causes of the +failure of the French—one may say of the utter and singular collapse of +their undertaking. + +The mistake occurred in this manner. Large numbers of the country-women +(among whom were Jemima and Nancy) had assembled on a hill commanding an +extensive prospect, including the French outpost at Carnunda, desiring, +with the curiosity of their sex, to see as much as possible of what was +going forward. It was, by the way, the same hill on which I had also +stationed myself. Most of the women wore their distinctive shawl, a +scarlet whittle, this being the colour appropriated by the daughters of +Pembrokeshire; while their Cardiganshire neighbours have adopted the +white whittle. All of them at that time wore high black hats. Lord +Cawdor, as he was riding about inspecting things in general, was struck +by the resemblance of a mass of these women to a body of regulars, and he +called upon the daughters of Cambria to give a proof of their patriotism +by marching towards the enemy in regular order. The females responded by +a considerable cackle, which, however, signified assent. I saw Jemima +and her niece in the front of the regiment which moved forward boldly +towards the enemy. Ere long a sudden dip in the ground rendered them +invisible to the French, at which place, turning into a side lane, they +came again to the back of the hill whence they had started, and renewed +their former course; it was done almost in the way in which, I am told, +these effects are managed in a theatre. This manœuvre caused much +laughter among the spectators, and no little puffing and panting to the +fair sex who accomplished it, many of whom were somewhat stout and not +very young. However, it had the desired effect. General Tate +acknowledged afterwards that they had been taken for a regiment of +regulars, and the French troops (greatly composed of convicts) utterly +lost heart. If they had but realised that it took a matter of seven days +for the news to travel to London, they need not have distressed +themselves on the score of quick aid from England. + +In the meantime parties of marauders in a half-drunken state continued to +prowl about the neighbourhood. A considerable number of militia and +peasantry encountered five of these men, who were dragging with them a +young calf. They dropped the calf and advanced to the combat, while our +men, thinking the odds unfair, singled out five of our sailors (of whom +Davy Jones was one), and Mr. Whitesides, a Liverpool gentleman who +assisted, as a stranger, at the selection, dismissed them to their work +with this benediction:— + +“Take time, my boys, and do it well!” + +The French soldiers fired, and one of our men fell, wounded in the foot; +then it was the tars’ turn, and they fired with such judgment that three +of the enemy lay flat on the ground, and the remaining two departed +rapidly. One of the three proved to be dead, the other two badly +wounded. This encounter of a few, with a multitude looking on, took one +back to the old days of Arthur’s knights, or to the still older days of +Goliath of Gath. + +Considerable numbers of Frenchmen were by this time in a very unpleasing +state of body and mind in consequence of rash indulgence in port wine and +poultry boiled in butter. They were captured in small groups by the +peasantry, who laid in wait for them behind the gorse bushes which abound +in this region, and who jumped out on them with scant ceremony whenever +they had a chance. A man belonging to Llanunda village, taking a +cautious peep through his own little window from the outside, perceived +one of the enemy making free with his food and wine; the Frenchman was +enjoying himself thoroughly, he had made an excellent fire from most of +the furniture, and he was toasting his legs thereat as he sipped the +generous wine with the air of a connoisseur. This was more than the +Taffy could stand. He had not saved that wine from a wreck at +considerable personal risk to see it sending a glow through the veins of +a foreigner; he flung himself into the room with a strong expression +behind his teeth and a hay-fork clenched tightly in his hand. The +Frenchman jumped up and thrust with his bayonet at the master of the +house, who turned aside the blow, then, taking the foe on his pitchfork, +tossed him into the fire, as he might have pitched a truss of hay on to +the rick. + +A party of marauders set forth with the view of plundering Manorowen, a +gentleman’s seat in the vicinity; but being followed by a detachment of +the Yeomanry, they returned in a very different manner from what they had +anticipated. + +And now we, on our knoll—and there were some thousands of us, including +peasantry, fishermen, shopkeepers, and the resident gentry of three +counties—raised a shout of pride and triumph as Lord Cawdor at the head +of his small troop of Yeomanry Cavalry rode off to inspect the enemy at +close quarters. The sinking sun shone on their glittering accoutrements +and splendid uniforms, and a glow of satisfaction filled our hearts as we +noted the fine chargers they bestrode, for a Pembrokeshire man loves +horseflesh as truly as a Yorkshire man; and not even my cloth has ever +restrained me from being a genuine Philhippos. The Castle Martin +Yeomanry have always been celebrated for their horses; and indeed it was +no matter of surprise to any one to hear, as we did hear afterwards, that +General Tate mistook these men for the staff surrounding some English +general, the main body of whose troops were defiling around the side of +the mountain; in truth, as the courteous reader knows, none other than +the old women. Lord Cawdor, at the head of his forty yeoman, trotted +close under Carnunda, the stronghold of the enemy, who could, if they had +possessed guns, have swept them all off the face of the earth. As it was +they narrowly escaped falling into an ambush. A force of French soldiers +were lying in wait for them a little further up the road, and had Lord +Cawdor taken this route, as was his lordship’s first design, his men +might have been surprised, though even in that case we may well believe +they would have given as good as they got. + +However, darkness falling suddenly, caused a change of plans; Lord Cawdor +and the reconnoitring party rejoined the main body, and the British +troops took up their quarters for the night in Fishguard. + + + +CHAPTER VII. +GENERAL TATE’S LETTER. + + +I also retired to Fishguard in order to calm my mother’s mind about my +safety—and also to get my supper. + +My mother was, as mothers are, overjoyed to see me, and gave me an ample +and excellent supper, liberally seasoned with more hero-worship. I +really believe she thought me capable of facing and fighting the whole +French force single-handed, and she considered that I had guided Ann +George through untold dangers into safety. The other way would have been +much nearer the truth, but she did not see it so. Ah well! after-life +has nothing half so sweet in it as that first truest love; and a little +knocking about against the harsh angles of the world soon takes off the +undue self-esteem it may have fostered. All I know is, I would be glad +to have somebody who believed in me utterly now. + + [Picture: The “Royal Oak” at Fishguard] + +The times were too exciting for a lad of my age to sit with his toes +under the table; my mother, too, was busily engaged in making +preparations to receive the strangers who were quartered in our house, so +as soon as supper was ended I fared forth into the street again to pick +up scraps of intelligence, and try to find out the latest news. + +I was too full of excitement to care to go to bed, and I found most of my +fellow-townsmen were of my mind in this matter. I turned in first at +Jemima Nicholas’s house to see how she and her niece were getting on +after their novel experience of warlike tactics on a large scale. +Jemima, an immensely powerful woman, seemed only sorry that they had not +come to close quarters with the enemy: she was truly a Celtic Amazon who +took a pleasure in fighting for fighting’s sake. + +Nancy, to my surprise, seemed to have been indulging in the luxury of +tears. + +“What on earth is the matter with you, Nan?” I asked, with unfeeling +openness. “Your eyes are quite red.” + +Nancy shot a glance of anger at me from the orbs in question, but +vouchsafed no answer. + +“Why, don’t you know,” interposed Jemima, “that her young man was wounded +in the fight up there just now?” + +“D’you mean Davy Jones?” I asked. “Oh, I knew one of the sailors got +shot; but I didn’t know which it was; I never thought of inquiring.” + +“You unfeeling young heathen!” burst out Nancy. “But there, it’s no good +talking; boys have no more heart than cabbages.” + +“A cabbage _has_ a heart, Nancy,” I retorted. + +“Well, so’ve you—much the same sort,” cried Ann, too cross for similes or +logic. + +Very much offended, I got up, but delivered this shaft before I departed: +“_All_ those sailors were my friends equally, so it made no odds to me +which of them was wounded. And how was I to know Davy Jones was your +young man, when it’s my belief you didn’t know it yourself yesterday.” + +But the door slammed abruptly just behind my more backward leg, and the +rest of my remark was cut off. + +I wended my way into the main street, and soon found the centre of +attraction to be the old hostelry, the “Royal Oak.” Men and boys, and +many of the gentler sex also, swarmed round its window and its quaint old +porch. The interior was filled with officers discussing the position of +affairs. With a good deal of trouble and squeezing, and being in those +days of an eel-like figure, I slipped and shoved myself close to one of +the windows, where, balancing on my hands and with my nose glued to the +pane, I inspected all those men of mark, and tried to find out what their +intentions might be. + +This position might, affording as it did ample opportunity for the +horse-play of the rude, seem _infra dig._ to those who have only known me +in my later years; but it must be remembered I was then but a boy not +given to stand on my dignity and strongly moved by curiosity, or perhaps +I might call it by the higher title—desire of knowledge. + +For a good space there was not much to observe, save the various uniforms +of the gentlemen and their manner of taking snuff and of laying their +hands on their swords. Of a sudden I felt rather than heard a thrill of +excitement in the crowd behind me: this soon resolved itself into a most +unmistakable pushing and making-way on the part of some, and of craning +forward and tiptoeing on the part of others around me. + +With difficulty I turned my head, and I beheld a most unexpected sight. +Two French officers were striving to make their way through the +hindering, turbulent crowd, the nearer members of which shrank from them +as though they bore with them the plague, while the more distant ones +pressed forward to catch a sight of these foreigners in the same way that +people like to gaze on the more savage members of a menagerie. This +caused the strange lurch, the ebb and flow in the crowd. But still the +men kept on making for the door of the inn, and no one actually opposed +their passage. + +One of them carried in his hand a white flag, and almost before I could +believe the evidence of my eyes—for the ears had no work to do, every one +being too much astonished to speak—the two envoys from the French camp +were disappearing through the entrance and being ushered into the +presence of Lord Cawdor and his officers. + +Now I had reason to be proud of my ’vantage-place. Once more my face was +pressed, with considerable outside pressure indeed, against the pane, and +I saw with my own eyes that French aide-de-camp, Monsieur Leonard, +present, with many a bow and flourish, the written communication from his +general to Lord Cawdor. At the sight of those grimaces the crowd around +me awoke from their trance of astonished silence—from the absolute +stupefaction which had possessed them as it had possessed me. +Consciousness and speech returned to them, and took the outward form of +maledictions. + +I, however, was more interested in watching the demeanour of the +gentlemen within than of my fellow-townsmen without the house. His +lordship, though his back was not so supple as the Frenchman’s, still +received the letter with every mark of good breeding; and after a few +formalities opened the communication. + +“Mark all they do!” I whispered to one of my rib-bending neighbours, who, +being of a higher class and better parts than the rest, I imagined would +understand me. “Mark it well, Mr. Evans, for this is how History is +made!” + +“History!” repeated Mr. Evans, blankly. “History happened long ago; this +is only to-day.” + +“Hst!” said the crowd. + +In fact, Lord Cawdor had now commenced to read the letter aloud to his +officers. It was, happily for us outsiders, and perhaps even for some of +the gentlemen within, in English; for the leader of the invaders, being +an Irishman, probably understood English at least as well as French, +while most of us understood it a good deal better. The letter was short: +it was briefly a proposal for the surrender of the entire French force, +on conditions. As I had subsequently the privilege of seeing it, I give +here the actual words of the letter:— + + “CARDIGAN BAY, + “5_th_ _Ventose_, + “5_th_ _Year of the Republic_. + + “SIR,—The circumstances under which the body of troops under my + command were landed at this place render it unnecessary to attempt + any military operations, as they would tend only to bloodshed and + pillage. The officers of the whole corps have, therefore, intimated + their desire of entering into a negotiation, upon principles of + humanity, for a surrender. If you are influenced by similar + considerations, you may signify the same to the bearer, and in the + meantime hostilities shall cease. + + “Health and respect, + “TATE, _Chef de Brigade_.” + +Lord Cawdor, however, did not signify the same to the bearer, but a +slight smile lit up his features, while the French officers went on to +explain that they were ready to capitulate on condition that they should +be sent back to Brest at the expense of the English Government. A low +murmur broke out among the onlookers. The Frenchmen’s ships had deserted +them and they wanted us to give them a free passage home. But Colonel +Knox had something to say to that. The uncertain light of lanterns and +candles (mostly dips, for the resources of the “Royal Oak” and, indeed, +of Fishguard, were limited) fell on his white hair and handsome uniform, +flickering on the gold of the embroideries, and no one but those who knew +would have believed that his fancy was as brilliant as that glittering +braid. + +“We have ten thousand men now in Fishguard,” said he, “ten thousand more +are on the road. Unconditional surrender are our only terms.” + +The messengers looked very blank when they understood the tenour of these +words, but they appeared still more impressed when Lord Cawdor in a stern +voice, but with his usual courtesy of manner, gave them an answer. He +informed them that he should at once write an answer to General Tate, +which he should send to him in the morning, but that they might tell him +in the meantime that his troops would be expected to parade for surrender +on the following day. + +His lordship, who had hitherto been standing, sat down and consulted for +a few moments in an undertone with some of his suite. Then taking up a +pen, he quickly wrote an answer, dusted sand over it to dry the ink, and +standing up once more he read it aloud in clear and ringing tones. It +commanded the admiration and approbation of all present on both sides of +the window, except perhaps of the aide-de-camp and his fellow, who +probably did not understand the English tongue, and if they had would not +perchance have admired the style of the composition. We did, +however—that is, those of the crowd who heard it—and the rest taking it +on trust, we signified our approval by three cheers, delivered with +excellent intention, but in the usual disjointed Welsh fashion. + +Lord Cawdor merely remarked in his letter that with his superior force +(save the mark!—and the old women!) he would accept of no terms except +the unconditional surrender of the whole French force as prisoners of +war. And that he expected an answer with all speed, this being his +ultimatum: Major Ackland would present himself at the camp at Trehowel +early on the following morning to receive this answer, for which Lord +Cawdor would not wait later than ten o’clock. + +These were the actual words of the letter which was delivered on the +following morning at Trehowel to General Tate and six hundred Frenchmen, +drawn up in line, by his lordship’s aide-de-camp, the Hon. Captain +Edwardes, his white flag of truce being carried by Mr. Millingchamp. + + “FISHGUARD, _Feb._ 23_rd._ + + “SIR,—The superiority of the force under my command, which is hourly + increasing, must prevent my treating upon any other terms short of + your surrendering your whole force prisoners of war. I enter fully + into your wish of preventing an unnecessary effusion of blood, which + your speedy surrender can alone prevent, and which will entitle you + to that consideration it is ever the wish of British troops to show + an enemy whose numbers are inferior. My major will deliver you this + letter, and I shall expect your determination by 10 o’clock, by your + officer, whom I have furnished with an escort who will conduct him to + me without molestation. + + “I am, &c., + “CAWDOR.” + +The major referred to was Major Ackland who accompanied Captain Edwardes +to Trehowel. + +We thought it very fine—and so it was; and the words we didn’t understand +we thought the finest. After this the French envoys were dismissed, with +their white flag still grasped firmly. They were also provided with a +strong escort to take them back safely to their own lines, and indeed +they required it, for by this time we had quite wakened up; and as the +two men were led forth from the inn blindfolded with thick shawls lest +they should spy the poverty of the force, we greeted them with a yell +which must have made their hearts shake. My countrymen are beyond all +comparison better at yelling than at cheering; it was cowardly no doubt +of it, considering the difference of our numbers; but when was a mob +anything but cowardly? + +Of course to a boy it was pure delight, and my enjoyment that evening +made up for the cramp of the night before. The escort kept us at more +than arm’s length, but no friendly force could have kept us from running +after these representatives of the enemy, or from shouting at them, or +even from throwing a few stones and sticks at them. The men remembered +the wine and brandy, the women the slaughtered ducks and geese, and they +hurled stones and curses mixed at the two devourers we could get at. The +escort certainly received the brunt of the battle and most of the stones, +and sent back many objurations at us in return; but we were too hurried +to discriminate friend from foe. + +We ran as far as a place called Windy Hall, {154} from whence there is a +wide-stretching view of Goodwick Sands and the most perfectly-exposed +down-hill slope that could possibly be desired for the final volley of +stones with which we wished them goodnight. + +I was pretty well tired out by this time, so returned home to see how my +parents fared in these strange days, and to have a second supper, and +then to bed in my own particular little den, which usually I had only the +felicity of occupying in the holidays: and so the Thursday came to an +end. + + + + +FRIDAY. +_THE THIRD DAY_. + + +CHAPTER VIII. +THE GATHERING AT GOODWICK. + + +Nor many hours did the little den hold me after all, for in the early +morning I woke with the feeling that something strange was astir. Then +came a vague terror—the memory of my yester-morn’s awakening, and then a +sense of jubilant triumph as I recalled the Frenchmen’s offer and the +stout answer of our chief. Surely they would capitulate now without more +talking or more fighting. I should have liked to have witnessed a little +fighting well enough—from a distance. But then a fight is a very +uncertain thing, it twirls about so, you never know where it will get to +next, or where you are sure to be in it, or still more, safe to be out of +it. + +The men quartered in our house were astir early, and perhaps their heavy +footfalls had more to do with rousing me than my own excitability. Still +quick-silver seemed to be running about all over me as I hastily +swallowed my breakfast—which, however, I did full justice to—and then +rushed out of the house to join everybody else on the road to Goodwick. +What a throng there was! Every man, woman, and child in Fishguard and +all the country round seemed to have turned out, and to be making for the +great sands at Goodwick. The people gathered from every direction, east, +west, and south, until the semi-circle of hills was dark with them. +Chiefly, however, the throng came from the east and south, for Trehowel +lay to the west, and there were but few of the natives left in that +direction; besides which the steep white road that mounts the hill on +that side of the sands was left clear for the descent of the enemy. No +one wished to interfere with them needlessly; quite the contrary: at all +events, till they had got within reach of our trained men. In the +meantime we would give them a wide berth lest they should turn and rend +us. + +Suddenly a wild voice and a wild figure smote our senses—both eyes and +ears. + +“The dream, the dream!” it yelled. “The dream is coming true!” + +“What dream? What is it?” asked every one, but there were more askers +than answerers. + +“Use your ears and listen!” continued the wild voice. “Use your eyes and +see!” + +“Whoever is he, Jemima?” I asked, finding myself near a reliable woman. +Nancy stood some little way off leaning against a cart. + +“Why, it’s old Enoch Lale,” said Jemima. “I know him well enough, he +lives over there under Trehowel, by Carreg Gwastad, just where these +blacks landed.” + +Why Jemima always persisted in calling the French “blacks,” I know not; +possibly because they were foreigners, possibly she meant blackguards. + +“My dream! I told it to ye, unbelieving race, aye, thirty years ago!” +yelled the old man. + +“’Deed, that’s true for him,” remarked Jemima. “I heard him tell it many +a time, years and years ago. Well, I always thought he was soft, but now +he seems real raving.” + +“Thirty years ago I had the vision, and you know it, men and neighbours.” + +“Yes, yes, true for you, Enoch Lale,” answered many a voice in the crowd; +chiefly this response came from elderly persons who had doubtless heard +the tale many a time. + +“But I haven’t heard it. I wasn’t born then,” I remarked. + +Whether Enoch Lale heard this gentle protest, or whether he was resolved +not to be baulked of his story, I cannot say. “I only know,” he +continued, “I had a vision of the night, and the future was revealed to +me in a dream; yea, and more than a dream, for I rose up out of my bed +and went down on to the rocks and there—on Carreg Gwastad—the French +troops landed, and I saw them—aye, as plain as ever any of you saw them +two days ago. And that was thirty years ago, yet it has come true! But +wait, and listen! and ye shall hear the brass drums sounding, as I heard +them sound that night! Listen! Listen!” + +“Come down off that cart and be quiet, Enoch Lale, or you’ll be having a +fit. We all know, you’ve told your dream often enough; why you woke me +up that very night to tell it.” + +And the prophet was taken possession of by a quiet elderly woman, his +better half. + +“Well, we got rid of old I-told-you-so rather suddenly,” I observed to +Jemima. “But it is very queer about his dream.” + +“There’s a many things,” replied Jemima, “as we don’t know nothing +about—and dreams is one of them.” + +It was marvellous to watch the gathering of troops and people. The hills +to the south of the bay were covered with peasant men, and the +red-whittled women who had done such good service to their country, and +whose conduct has never been rewarded by any faintest token of gratitude +or even of recognition by that country. + +At the foot of these hills came a marsh, bounded by a road on the other +side of which were the famous sands—where were stationed in a compact +body the Castle Martin Yeomanry Cavalry. Ere long these men were drawn +out of their trim ranks for a difficult and dangerous duty; but of that +anon. + +The infantry was drawn up in a field on the east side of the bay, just +under Windy Hill, to which farm the field belonged. The force consisted +of the Cardiganshire and Pembrokeshire Volunteers—about three hundred +strong: together with the Fishguard Fencibles. Numerically weak we were +indeed, but on our own ground and with right on our side. Added to which +we had had the pleasing news of the enemy’s faint-heartedness: so that +altogether we felt ourselves animated by the courage of lions. + +Major Ackland had had his promised interview with General Tate in the +early morning at the French headquarters in the old house of Trehowel. +The interview had been a short one, and much to the point; he declined +altogether to parley, or parlez-vous. He insisted on instant and +unconditional surrender; then sticking spurs in his horse he galloped +away without any compliments. + +Lord Cawdor and his staff were riding up and down the sands when the +gallant Major appeared bringing the glorious news that the French were +coming, and at once, and that they were prepared to surrender at +discretion. But the Colonel still continued his work of inspecting the +whole of the British troops. He still thought, perhaps hoped, that there +might be a passage of arms. + +Then came a time of deep silence when each individual among us +concentrated his senses in his ears. I, being but a boy, allowed my eyes +a little freedom; most other eyes were concentrated on the road where the +French would first appear, but I permitted mine to gaze around me, when I +at once made a discovery. The cart against which Nancy had leant +contained a man, the outline of the back of whose head seemed strangely +familiar to me. I could only see the back of his head for he was leaning +out of the cart with his face turned away from me, but towards another +person who was standing on the other side of the cart. Some bushes, +behind which the cart had been drawn up, prevented a clear view, so I +shifted my position a little—in fact, went straight up to the group, who +seemed to be placing rather a blind confidence in their retired +situation, and in the magnetic attraction of the enemy. I rounded the +cart; the young man was, as I had imagined, Davy Jones, wounded foot and +all; the young woman was, as I had guessed, Nancy George. Their heads +were very near together, perhaps they were talking about splints. + +“Why, Nancy!” I exclaimed, “is that you?” + +“Yes, of course it is, Master Dan—and why shouldn’t it be?” cried Nancy, +as red as a turkey-cock, and as inclined to show fight. + +“Oh, all right. I only thought you must be somebody else,” I returned, +politely. + +Davy broke into a roar of laughter, and Ann, in spite of her indignation, +showed her row of white teeth. + +“Go away, you tiresome boy, and look out for the French,” was her +recommendation. + +“And not for the—” but my sentence was cut short by a shove from Nan’s +vigorous arm which sent me flying for some paces. + +“Take care of the spoons, Ann!” was my parting shot, as I made my way a +little further down the hill. + +We all sat down on the ferny slopes and waited and listened. As a +general rule nobody talked, which showed how grave was the occasion. In +front of us was the sea dark grey to-day as was the sky; the sands +sometimes almost golden, were, on this dull February day, only another +shade of grey; and the great boulders of rock which cropped up everywhere +were of the same colour. And this greyness seemed to suit this scene +better than the brightness of Wednesday would have done; for though it +was a day of triumph to us we could not forget that it was a day of +humiliation and bitterness to these hundreds of men who were approaching +us on the other side of the hill. The tide was coming in, but without +any sparkle and dash, sullenly; and the south-west wind blew in gusts the +strength of which told plainly of power in reserve: one could feel that +it was capable of violence. + +So were the people who sat waiting—apparently quietly—for their enemies, +on the hill-slope, which rose into a natural amphitheatre on all sides +(save one) of the scene: whereof the flat sands formed the arena or +floor. What a place this would have been for one of the old Roman shows; +for a moment I seemed to see the gladiators struggling for life or death, +to hear the cruel roar of the lions, to watch the fighting, tearing, and +rending in the arena, and to witness what struck me most with awe—the +fierce lust for blood which filled the spectators, one and all, as they +shouted and craved for more—more blood. I woke up suddenly with a start +to find I had been dozing on the hillside, where the people were sitting +quietly enough, Britons not Romans, perhaps some of them descendants of +these very gladiators who had been + + “Butchered to make a Roman holiday.” + + + +CHAPTER IX. +THE CAPITULATION. + + +Suddenly the listening people caught a far-off sound; it came nearer and +nearer rapidly, one’s ears seem to go out to meet it. + +“Here they come!” came in a hoarse growl from hundreds of guttural +throats—speaking of course in Welsh. + +“Hst,” came the return growl from the other portion of the crowd. + +The sound became louder and louder; it was plainly the beating of brass +drums. A sort of thrill—sometimes called goose-skin passed over me, and +I doubt not over most of my neighbours. Enoch Lale’s dream was the +thought that stirred us; there was something of second-sight about it +that awed one even in the morning air and among that crowd of living +beings. For a minute I saw again the spectral army of Enoch’s vision. +Then, being a boy, the practical aspect of the matter struck me. + +“I hope the wife hasn’t taken the poor old fellow out of ear-shot,” I +observed to Mr. Mortimer, near whom I had placed myself. “He heard those +drums thirty years ago, sir—and he’d like to know he was right.” + +“No doubt, most of us do,” assented Mr. Mortimer. “Oh, Enoch’s somewhere +about, never fear. Hush, my boy, look there!” + +All our senses were focussed in our eyes, something shining and moving we +saw, and what could that be save the bayonets of the enemy? Still the +shrill clanging of the brass drums went on, broken only by the thud of +the sea breaking upon the sand. Every head was turned towards the west +(even Nancy’s and Davy’s for I looked to see) towards the rocky +stronghold of Carnunda, past the houses and trees of Goodwick, all along +the white road which runs like a riband placed aslant on the hill-side. + +The glittering points turned the corner and came into full view; it was +at exactly two o’clock that the first of the Frenchmen appeared in sight. +On they came, a moving mass of dark blue, carrying no colours, neither +gay tricolor nor white flag of peace, but beating their drums so as to +put a good face on the matter. A moment later this was changed. + +As the column rounded the corner of the road, our hills suddenly started +into life and their silence was broken by a prolonged yell so fierce and +threatening that the French recoiled and then halted. I could not, even +at the moment, blame them; there seemed every probability that they would +be massacred. The Welsh had jumped to their feet as with one bound, and +they were making up for their long silence now, the men all brandishing +every conceivable kind of weapon, the women shaking their fists at the +invaders and screeching at them at the top of their voices. I had only a +pocket-knife about me and concluded to keep that for my bread and cheese, +of which I was badly in want at this moment. + +Jemima Nicholas dashed past me, rushing down the hill at full speed with +a pitchfork in her hands, followed by some other war-like women of her +stamp—some of them armed with straightened scythes. I got out of their +way quickly. “Come on, my daughters!” yelled the fierce cobbler—for that +was her trade—“come on and cut them down into the sea!” + +There is no doubt that she certainly wished to do it, indeed, there was a +manifest disposition on the part of the peasantry, male and female, to +come at once to close quarters with the enemy. Then rushed a sudden +thunder of hoofs along the shore, as Lord Cawdor and his yeomanry +galloped in front of the angry people, ordering them back and impressing +their commands with the flat of their drawn swords. + +Strong guards were also posted in every path that led from the hills to +the sands, while the road on which the French were now meditating a hasty +retreat was especially strongly guarded by detachments of the +Cardiganshire Militia and the Fishguard Fencibles. At last, seeing these +precautions against popular fury and that no sudden violence was now +likely to occur, the French once more took heart and resumed their +downward march and drums. They were accompanied by Lord Cawdor’s +aide-de-camp, the Hon. Captain Edwardes, and by Mr. Millingchamp, who +bore a large white flag of truce; these had already given the order to +“open pans and shed priming” and to march on peaceably: and they were +obeyed. + +Colonel Colby marched his men down from Windy Hill, and as he passed the +spot where I was, I heard him say, “Let us all be ready, my boys, perhaps +they may disappoint us still.” + +But the gallant colonel’s hopes of a fight were doomed to be +unfulfilled—and so were Jemima’s—the French troops were thoroughly +demoralised and had no fight in them. They marched on to the sands in +columns, halted before Lord Cawdor and his staff backed by a handful of +men (for most of our troops were employed in keeping back the excited +populace), and then quietly laid down their arms and marched on. + +When they had thus deposited their old flint guns some of them looked +around them. It is impossible to describe the chagrin depicted on their +features when they realised how trifling (numerically speaking) was the +force to which they had succumbed. Still greater was the annoyance they +experienced when they discovered that the scarlet flash which had so +scared them was produced—not by the red coats of a body of regulars—but +by the whittles worn by a parcel of women! These individuals now allowed +the fallen foe to have a near view of their tall hats and scarlet +mantles, for dashing down the hills on to the sands in spite of the +guards (who were indeed too much occupied in looking after the piles of +muskets to heed minor matters) these bellicose dames and damsels gathered +closely around the Frenchmen, addressing manifold observations to them in +their Welsh tongue, in the use of which most of them possess +extraordinary fluency. + +But their Gallican sisters also can talk and scold. I had by this time +got very near to the unlucky commander of the expedition, General Tate; +and I was close by when Madame Tate who had accompanied the troops flew +at him like a fury. She, too, had discovered the paucity of our numbers, +and that Lord Cawdor’s “ten thousand men” were—in Spain perhaps—and that +the English regulars were—well, very irregular forces attired in scarlet +whittles. Her remarks as to the conduct of the campaign were evidently +of a most uncomplimentary nature; though I cannot say I understood +French, I understood that. In my heart I felt sorry for General Tate. + +“Look here, mum,” I ventured to remark, “if you want to have it out with +somebody, here’s a lady of your own weight and age. Tackle Jemima.” + +Madame Tate, though understanding never a word, turned furiously on +Jemima, who returned the shower of epithets. The General, giving me a +look of pure gratitude, hastened away, and I followed his example. + +The troops were marched away in columns by fours, and, guarded by our +men, set off at once for their various destinations—chiefly gaols; our +bands now taking up the strain and making the welkin ring with joyous +airs, to which we added all our lungs’ strength of voice in songs and +cheers. + +So ended the famous capitulation of the French on Goodwick Sands. + + + +CHAPTER X. +TREHOWEL ONCE MORE. + + +We could still hear the festive strains of “The Girl I Left Behind +Me,”—every road was full of soldiers—guards and guarded, some on their +way to Haverfordwest, some to Milford, some to Carmarthen, some, for the +present, only as far as Fishguard. Their number (sixteen hundred, +without stragglers who dropped in later) taxed the resources of this +thinly inhabited country to the uttermost, both as regarded the food and +the housing of their prisoners. Vast relief was felt when the greater +number of them were shipped off to the place from whence they came. + +“Where are you going, master?” asked Ann George, coming up to Mr. +Mortimer as he was moving away, having now beheld the end of this strange +scene of the bloodless surrender of sixteen hundred men to a very +insignificant force; surely one of the strangest sights ever witnessed on +the shores of this happy island. + +Nancy had taken no part in the action of her aunt Jemima; she was not the +woman to jeer a fallen foe, so she had remained quietly by the cart till +all was over, then had turned to her master. + +“Where are you going, master?” asked the faithful servant. + +“Back to my own house; for I suppose it is mine again now,” said he, with +a sort of groan as he thought of the manner in which the old home had +been desecrated. + +“I’ll come too,” said Nancy, “the place is bound to be topsy-turvy, sir, +and a gentleman can’t do aught to straighten it. I’ll come too.” + +“Better not, Nancy, there are a lot of drunken vagabonds about still—too +drunk to know they’ve capitulated. And some of the officers who were +afraid to trust to the white flag and our word are at Trehowel still.” + +However, Nancy was not to be put off so; she would go. She had been in +service for some years at Trehowel and she considered that the kitchen +belonged to her, and it went to her heart to think of the damage done. +She could have no peace till she could begin to repair it, and to set +things once more in order to receive home the bride, as now the strangely +postponed wedding would surely take place. + +Davy Jones went too—I suppose because Nancy did; they seemed great +friends now, though previously the young woman had been in the habit of +giving him the cold shoulder, I imagine because of his habit of +smuggling; but I did not take much interest in the matter as a boy, not +understanding the fair sex; indeed, even in after years I doubt if I ever +quite succeeded in fathoming their method of reasoning. However, it is +quite certain that as Nancy permitted it Davy was quite content to go +wherever she did, and he gave her and me also a seat in his cart. I went +too, for I thought that if there was anything to be seen I might as well +see it; and I had heard that General Tate had gone back there after the +surrender—on parole. I had some curiosity to see him again, and I +thought it due to myself to witness the end of this affair, of which I +had chanced to see the very beginning. + +As we went up the steep hill from Goodwick, we were joined by a party of +the Fishguard Fencibles, sent to look after the scattered inebriates, and +to take the swords and words of the retiring French officers. When we +got to Brestgarn we encountered the grinning face of Llewellyn, about +whom Nancy and I had had many an uneasy thought. He told us that his +captors had not ill-treated him beyond making him work for them, that +they had kept a sharp eye on him for a day and two nights and then he had +managed to escape. He had hidden for a while, but as soon as possible +had returned to look after his master’s goods. Llewellyn was a very +ordinary looking man with unpolished—even uncouth manners, but it struck +me that he had a stronger sense of duty than is usual. + + [Picture: Trehowel: General Tate’s Headquarters] + +A few steps further brought us to Trehowel. Out rushed all the dogs, +barking, jumping, tail-wagging—absolutely wild with delight at the +recovery of their own master. A grey-haired gentleman came forward and +addressed Mr. Mortimer with much courtesy— + +“Sir, the dogs know you. I presume you are the master here?” + +“I was so once. Down, Gelert! Quiet, Corgé!” + +The officer then introduced himself to Mr. Mortimer as General Tate. He +went on to say that he had understood that the Welsh people were ripe for +revolt and that they might march throughout Wales and even a good deal +further with wooden swords. That it had been a great disappointment to +him to find this was not the case, that it had also been a source of +annoyance to him to be deserted by his ships, but that the most +unpleasant sensation he had ever experienced had been the failing of +heart he had felt as his foot touched Welsh soil. + +I listened with all my ears to this interesting discourse, which happily +I was able to understand, for General Tate being an Irishman spoke +English perfectly. + +Our attention was diverted by a cry—a cry of surprise which broke from +Nancy with a suddenness which startled all of us. We all turned hastily +round and beheld the girl standing as if petrified, with her arm +stretched out and her hand pointing towards a man who stood a few yards +from her—apparently one of the stragglers among the French soldiers, for +he was clothed in the same way as the majority of them—a British +soldier’s uniform which had been dyed a rusty brown. The man looked +dumb-foundered but Nancy found her tongue. + +“So it is you, James Bowen, who have betrayed your own people to +strangers. Uch a fi, traitor; I could strike you where you stand!” + +“Shall I do it for you, Nancy?” suggested Davy, ready to hobble out of +the cart. + +“No, he is not worth it. Let him go to gaol with his friends,” said +Nancy, scornfully. + +James Bowen looked utterly bewildered; he had evidently been drinking +heavily and had not even heard of the surrender; had he done so he would +hardly have come back to Trehowel, but would have made off into the +interior. But Nancy’s contempt roused him somewhat. + +“It was your own fault,” he said, sullenly, “you drove me away from here, +you drove me to the bad.” + +“And I suppose I drove you to steal a horse and then to break out of +gaol, and to run off to France, and to fetch back foreigners here—showing +them the entrance to Carreg Gwastad Creek! I helped in that too, +perhaps?” + +“You needn’t pretend to be so particular, you’ve taken up with a smuggler +yourself,” growled James. + +Nancy’s face flamed, but she took a step nearer to Davy and placed her +hand in his defiantly. + +“It is truth indeed, and I’m going to marry him too, for if he is a +smuggler, he is an honest boy and isn’t a traitor. I’d have thought +nothing of the horse or the gaol—but to betray your own people to +strangers—let me get out of the sight of you. ‘Cursed for ever and +throughout all ages be the traitor.’” + +And with this vigorous denunciation of a crime so utterly hateful to the +Welsh people, that they even abhor giving evidence in a court of justice, +Nancy turned her back on the traitor at once and for ever, and hastily +entering her domain at Trehowel, proceeded to restore the silver spoons +to their own place. + +The kindly dusk hid much of the damage that had been done; and after +three days’ absence, at the same hour as when she had quitted it, Nancy +George was restored to the sovereignty of the kitchen at Trehowel. + +And so ended in gladness of heart and rejoicing, Friday the 24th day of +February, 1797; and so ended in pain and tribulation to themselves the +three days’ invasion of the French at Fishguard. + + + + +SEQUEL. +_THE GOLDEN PRISON AT PEMBROKE_. + + +CHAPTER XI. +THE GENERAL THANKSGIVING. + + +As I have already mentioned, some of the prisoners were sent to +Haverfordwest Gaol—which, being situated in the old castle, was a +commodious and roomy resort; others were placed, temporarily, in the +churches of St. Mary, St. Thomas, and St. Martin: others again were sent +to Carmarthen, under the escort of the Romney Fencible Cavalry, the +officers being conveyed on horseback and allowed their parole; but the +greater part of the French force finally found themselves confined in the +Golden Prison at Pembroke. They were taken there and also to Milford by +water; and not a few died on board the vessels, being closely shut up +under deck. Finally, five hundred of them were safely landed and +incarcerated in the Golden Prison, the state of which, with all this +overcrowding, could hardly have been so delightful as its name might lead +the imaginative to suppose. + +Here we will leave them for awhile, returning once more to myself and my +own belongings. My kind mother would not let me return at once to my +master at St. David’s, she looked upon me as “her miraculously preserved +boy,” and must keep me for a bit to gloat her eyes upon. My father, +being a man who loved a quiet life, consented. And so I was still in +Fishguard when the Royal Proclamation came down, which commanded us to +set aside a day of general thanksgiving for our preservation from the +dangers which threatened our beloved country. This command reached us +about a fortnight after the danger had passed, posts being rather slow in +those days. Indeed, had we had to wait so long for more substantial +help, we had been in parlous straights long since. However, “All’s well +that ends well”—and we had fared through, by the aid of Providence, our +own exertions, and the brandy-laden wrecks. + +So we all repaired to our several parish churches; my mother hanging +proudly on my arm, and regarding me as one to be specially thanked for. +Indeed, I was not ill-pleased myself to perceive some nods of heads and +pointings of fingers among the old crones and young maids as we passed +along. This feeling seemed also to actuate Davy Jones, who limped along +arm in arm with Nancy; she, even then not assuming the dependent +position, but giving him her arm, as it were, in order to help him along. +She even explained to us that, it being her “Sunday out” she had come all +the way from Trehowel for this purpose. I may own that I distrusted that +limp of Davy’s; it struck me he liked to play the maimed hero. + +“Why, Davy,” I remarked, very audibly. “I saw you at market on Friday, +and you weren’t limping a bit. Do you want to have the old women to look +at you or Nancy—.” + +“To arm me?” said Davy, with a wink. “That’s it, my boy. What’s the old +women to me? But Nancy—.” + +Here Nancy stopped the dialogue by dragging her admirer forward in a most +hasty manner, with but slight regard for his wounded limb. The service +proceeded as usual. The hymns occasionally tailed off into one voice +which quivered and sank, dying out into silence; for as it was well known +that the parson’s daughter received a shilling from her sire for pitching +up the tune again every time it died a natural death, no one liked to be +so crooked as not to assist nature when the melody became weak and low. +Then the clear young voice came forth and we started afresh. I need +hardly say there was no instrumental music. + +We proceeded, then, in spite of the special occasion in much our usual +manner, leaving most of the thanksgiving to parson and clerk, and lolling +about at our ease thinking of nothing, when attention! we heard galloping +hoofs along the street, which ran outside the church. At the gate, the +horse was suddenly reined up on his haunches—a man flung himself off +heavily, and quick feet came tearing up the path to the porch. In an +instant every man, woman, and child in the church stood upright, ready +for fight or flight. + +The door burst open, and the express messenger rushed in, booted, +spurred, and breathless. + +“The French! the French!” was all that he could gasp. He was surrounded +in an instant by eager questioners, his voice was drowned in a very Babel +of noise. + +Our worthy divine then assumed command of his congregation. He +despatched the clerk to the vestry for a drop of brandy, and then +standing square and upright in the pulpit he commanded the people to be +quiet, and to allow the man to come unhindered into the pulpit, from +where he would himself announce the news. These orders were obeyed, and +John Jones having returned with the spirit, the parson administered it, +and then desired the man to deliver his message. + +It was briefly this; sundry large ships of war, filled with French +troops, were making their way up St. George’s Channel straight for the +port of Fishguard. + +In an instant the cry rang through the church—“To arms! to arms!” + +Then what a scene of confusion arose, fury, dismay, oaths and shrieks all +mingled together, some women fainting, some in tears, the men roused and +excited to the uttermost. + +“Don’t go, don’t go, my son,” sobbed my mother; but curiosity overcame +prudence. + +“I’m not going to fight, mother, never fear, but I must go and look on,” +was my answer. + +“Oh Dio, not again, not again!” urged Nancy, thinking of the single +combats. + +“I’m not going to walk across the sea to tackle a frigate, I promise +you,” said Davy, with a laugh. But Nancy was not to be put off so. + +“All right, come. I’m coming too,” she said, and in another instant they +were without the church door, where, indeed, we all found ourselves +shortly. We tore down to the cliffs as the possessed swine might have +raced; many of us ran to man the fort, but I remained on the higher +ground where I could have a better view and see further out to sea. + +And soon there was indeed a fair sight to see. Coming round the headland +to the west of us, their sails filled with the brisk March breeze, +appeared a stately squadron moving proudly under British colours; but +having seen something like this before, some of us still doubted. The +fort saluted, and this compliment was returned by the men-of-war without +any changing of colours. We began to feel reassured, and soon our hopes +were verified. A boat put off from the nearest ship and was rowed to +shore in a style that swore to “British tar.” The officer landed and +explained that the squadron was part of the Channel Fleet, sent to our +assistance, and that it was under the command of the brave Sir Edward +Pellew. We were very proud of the help rendered us by England, even +though it had come a little late, but that was the fault of our roads not +their goodwill; and though it had occasioned a worse scare than the real +thing, but that was only our disordered nerves which acted up to the old +proverb—“A burnt child dreads fire.” + +The officer inquired very particularly as to the probable whereabouts of +the French ships—the three frigates and the lugger. About this we could +give him no information whatever. All we could say was, that the French +left their anchorage at Carreg Gwastad on Thursday, the 23rd of February, +at noon, and took a course directly across the channel towards the coast +of Ireland. Our little sloops did not care to venture too near since one +of them, the _Britannia_, had been taken by the enemy, the cargo +appropriated, and the sloop scuttled and sunk. They were, on the whole, +persons to whom it was pleasanter to give a wide berth. + +We heard afterwards that one of the ships struck on the Arklow Banks, she +was much injured and lost her rudder; one of her companions took her in +tow and made for France. They got as far as just off Brest, and then, in +sight of home, cruel fate overtook them in the shape of two English +ships, respectively under the commands of Sir H. B. Neale and of Captain +Cooke. These two made short work of the Frenchmen, both ships were taken +and brought over to Portsmouth, where they were repaired, commissioned in +the British service, and sent to fight our battles, one of them—oh glory +for our little town—bearing henceforth the name of “_The Fishguard_.” + +The remaining frigate, accompanied by the lugger, got safely into Brest, +where no doubt they were exceedingly relieved to find themselves after +their disastrous expedition. + +The scare that our squadron had caused extended from St. David’s to +Fishguard, all along the coast, in fact, from which the big vessels could +be seen approaching the land. There were one or two other scares besides +this, for our nerves had been shaken, and our imaginations set going; and +truly for many a long year after the little phrase “Look out for the +French!” was enough to set women and children off at speed, and perhaps +even to give an uncomfortable qualm in the hearts of the nobler sex. + + + +CHAPTER XII. +INSIDE THE GOLDEN PRISON. + + +I went at Easter to pay a short visit to two maiden aunts who lived at +Pembroke, where they kept a little millinery—shop I had almost said, but +that would have vexed their gentle hearts—establishment. They were +sisters of my mother, who came from this district, often called “Little +England beyond Wales,” the people who live there being in fact Flemings, +not Cymri, and the language they speak, being a Saxon dialect, is worth +studying, not from its beauty, but from its quaintness and originality. +Welsh is utterly unknown “down below,” as the North Pembrokeshire folks +call the southern half of the county. My mother had great difficulty in +acquiring even a superficial knowledge of Welsh, and she was always +regarded as a stranger in Fishguard, though she lived there nigh upon +fifty years. It was probably my early acquaintance with English (of a +sort) that made my father decide to bring me up for the ministry. + +However, to resume my story—which was strangely mixed up with that of the +French prisoners—one of my chief pastimes during my visit to the worthy +spinsters consisted in hanging about the entrance to the Golden Prison. +The foreigners were allowed to employ their clever fingers in the +manufacture of knick-knacks, made of straw, bones, beads, and other +trifles, which they sold in order to provide themselves with anything +they might require beyond the bare necessaries of life. My good aunts, +Rebecca and Jane Johnson, permitted these articles to be exhibited on a +little table in their show-room, where ladies while idling away their +time in choosing and trying on finery, might perchance take a fancy to +some little object, and bestow some of their spare cash in helping the +poor prisoners. What made my aunts first think of doing this kindly act +was the representations of their assistant, a pretty young girl named +Eleanor Martin, a daughter of the gaoler of the Golden Prison, who had +had such a sudden accession to his numbers and his responsibilities. + +One day Nellie had occasion to go to the prison with the money produced +by these trifles, and she asked me if I would like to accompany her and +see the Frenchmen at work. My answer may be readily imagined. So we set +forth, and the first person whom we saw when we reached the limbo of +incarcerated bodies, if not of despairing souls, was not by any means a +repulsive object, being a remarkably pretty young woman, as like Nellie +as two peas are like each other. + +“Is’t thee, Fan?” asked Nellie. “Where be feyther?” Then, remembering +her manners, she added, “My sister Frances, Master Dan’l.” + +Frances and I were speedily friends, in fact, the young woman saw too +many strangers to be troubled by shyness. + +“Feyther’s main busy, and mustn’t be spoke to,” she observed, with rather +a knowing look at her sister. “But the turnkey’ll let us in. It’s a +mort easier to get in nor to get out of this old coop, Mas’r Dan’l.” + +I quite assented to this proposition, but remarked that I hoped the +turnkey would not make any mistake about us. + +“No fear,” said Frances, “I was born here and knows the ways on it.” + +“What’s that straw for, Frances?” I asked, for I loved to acquire +information. + +“For the Frenchers to make hats of. I brings them this much most days,” +she answered, looking down on her big bundle. + +I must really have been growing up lately, for (for the first time in my +life) an instinct of gallantry seized me, and I offered to carry it for +her. She declined in rather a hurried manner. + +“I’d liefer car’ it myself, thanking you the same. It’s no heft at all, +and maybe ye’d shed it about.” + +“Not I,” said I, indignantly, my gallantry gone. “Do you think I’ve +never carried a truss of straw before? That’s just like a girl. But +what’s that in the middle of the bundle?” I continued, eyeing it +curiously. “Why, it’s a bone, I believe!” + +Frances threw the corner of her apron over the bundle in a very pettish +manner, and to my great surprise grew as red as a poppy. What was there +to blush about in a bone? Nell struck in hurriedly— + +“Yes, of course it’s a bone, Dan. And what could they make their buttons +and ivory boxes out of but bone?” + +“I’m sure I don’t know,” I said, not liking to suggest “ivory” for fear, +as tempers were ruffled, they might leave me outside. + +“Then don’t go for to ax silly questions,” retorted Nell. “Can us go in, +Roche?” + +“Ay, my honies,” returned Roche, the turnkey, whom we had now reached. +“Leastwise you and Fan can, in the coorse of natur; but who be this young +crut?” {209} + +“Oh, missus’ nevvy he be, as wants to see the Frenchers at work. ’Tis +only a young boy, but we’d just as lief let him stay if you’d liefer not +let him in.” + +I did not feel grateful to my young friend for this suggestion, which, +however, was probably dictated by the wiliness of woman. + +“Oh, take him in there, and leave him if you’ve a mind, my beauty. I +reckon one more won’t make no odds in there.” + +This he seemed to consider a first-class joke, for he guffawed till we +were out of hearing. + +After passing through a guard-room, in which there were several soldiers +smoking and lounging about, who offered no opposition to our passing, Fan +and Nell being of course well known in the prison, we found ourselves in +a large and very dreary hall, paved with flag-stones and almost devoid of +furniture. The inmates, however, seemed pretty cheery on the whole; +there were apparently about a couple of hundred of them, of whom some +were working, some singing, some playing cards or dominoes—_all_ talking. +Yes, even the singing ones talked between the verses. The spring +sunshine came through the iron-barred, skied-up windows, and, in spite of +other discouraging circumstances, these children of the South were (what +we never are) gay as larks. + +They clustered around my companions with every mark of respect and +admiration. I naturally didn’t understand their jabber, but one remark +which was, I rather think, meant for English, caught my ear. “Zay +are—some angels out of—ciel!” + +“They say you’re angels out of the ceiling. What on earth do they mean?” +I inquired. + +“We knows what they mean well enough, don’t you trouble, my honey,” +answered Nell, who was more friendly to me than her sister was. + +I don’t think Fan had got over her annoyance about the bone; she still +carried the bundle of straw with her apron thrown over it. + +We now went to the part of the room where the men were busy with their +manufactures, and here I had really cause for astonishment. With no +tools except some wretched little penknives, these skilful-fingered +fellows were turning out most lovely work in bone, wood, and slate. Some +of them executed beautiful mosaic work by letting-in pieces of various +coloured stones on a bed of slate; they afterwards ground and polished +the whole till it resembled the far-famed Florentine mosaic. I perceived +a grindstone in the corner of the room, which the leniency of the +authorities permitted them to have and to use. + +Others of the prisoners were deftly plaiting the straw in many fanciful +devices, these plaits again being rapidly transformed into hats for men, +women, and even dolls. A great many toys were to be seen in various +stages of their formation, wooden whistles, ships, dolls, windmills, and +many other objects of delight to childhood. + +I scanned eagerly the faces of all I saw to discover the countenances of +any of my more particular assailants; but I did not succeed in +recognising one of them. There was such a remarkable similarity among +them, each man was as like his neighbour as could be; all haggard, all +unwashed, all unshaven. They excited pity, even in a boy’s unsentimental +heart; and withal, now that they were not drunk with greed and brandy, +they were so lively and merry. I was quite sorry I could not understand +their jokes. + +Fan did not make over her straw to any of these men, as I fully expected +that she would; nor did they seem to expect it. I heard a great deal of +talk about Monsieur le Commissaire, and there was a good deal of pointing +of fingers and something about “chambre voisine.” + +As Fanny sheered off I followed. + +“Can’t I come into the voisin chamber?” I asked, not knowing the meaning +of the word, “and see Mounseer the Commissary?” + +Fan looked at me in a startled way, but Nell interposed hastily— + +“Let him come, he’s main quick and might help; he’s not a cursed boy.” + +I must explain that in this dialect cursed means malicious or +ill-natured; it has the meaning, in fact, which Shakespeare followed when +he spoke of “Kate the curst” in his “Taming of the Shrew.” + +Frances looked doubtful, but went on, Nellie and I following. As we +entered the little adjoining room a young man jumped up, and, running to +Nellie, took her hand and kissed it with much fervour. + +“Hallo!” I cried, “what d’you let that common fellow kiss your hand for?” + +“He isn’t a common fellow—he’s an engineer!” cried Nell, angrily, “and +you’re nothing but a dull young boy not to know a gentleman when you sees +one! + +“Beg pardon, mounseer,” said I, for Frenchy was bowing to me, and I +wished to show we Welsh knew manners. But though he might be a +gentleman, I still hold to it, he was grimy. + +“I’ve brought you the money for the things sold in missus’ shop,” +continued Nell; then turning to me, “This gentleman, as is an engineer, +is main clever, and manages all the accounts.” + +The engineer seemed to me to have been clever enough to have managed more +than accounts; however for once discretion prevailed and I held my +tongue. Then Nellie and this mounseer fell to their accounts, and seemed +to have a great deal to say to each other in a mixture of French and +English, which, not understanding very well, I found stupid, and turned +to look for Fanny and her friend, another grimy individual, who proved to +be the commissary himself. + +They also seemed much taken up with each other, and were conversing in +the same lingo. I noticed that Fan had made over her bundle of straw to +this man, and she seemed very busy talking over some arrangements. I +approached, being willing to know what it was all about. + +“Who ze plague is zis garçon?” asked the commissary. + +“Oh, a young boy from down town—veal, savez-vous? Nong mauvais—a smart +young chap obligant. Can portey kelke chose, vous savez.” + +“Bon!” said the Frenchman, letting the word fly out like a shot, “we af +some drifles to make car out of zis.” + +I perceived at once that he had acquired his knowledge of English from +Frances, as “car” for “carry” is pure Pembrokeshire. + +“I shall be very glad to be of use,” I remarked. “What sort of things, +Frances—gimcracks, I suppose?” + +“Vat says he, là?” inquired the commissary. + +“Yes, gimcracks of a sort—rather heavy, though, we find them,” said Fan, +not stopping to translate. “If you’ll lend a hand, we’d get along +better.” + +“All right,” said I. + +“Zey is kep’ in ze bockat,” remarked Mounseer, luckily indicating some +pails in the corner by a gesture of his hand. + +“Adoo, Pierre, I think we’d better alley,” remarked Fan. This, I must +say, was the sort of French I liked. + +“To nex’ time, my cabbage!” said Pierre. + +Then while they were busy over the buckets I turned suddenly and beheld +the engineer bestowing on Nellie an unmistakable kiss. + +“Hallo!” I said. + +“It’s only their foreign ways; like as if we was to shake hands,” cried +Nellie, running forward and looking very rosy. “Come, catch a hoult on +these pails, Dan’l; they’re main weighty for we maids.” + +I did catch hold of a couple of pails, one in each hand, and found that +the last part of Nell’s remark was true. + +“Just feel the heft of un!” remarked Fanny. + +I did feel it a good deal before I had done with it. Nellie also carried +a pail, and Frances a large bundle, done up in some old sacking. + +“What’s all that?” I inquired, as we made our way out of the prison. + +“Dirty clothes,” said Frances, sharply. “They must have some clean +linen, I suppose, though they are Frenchmen!” + +It seemed to me that they managed to exist without it, but as the point +was not material, and Frances appeared touchy, I held my tongue. + +“This young boy has giv’ a hand with the sweepings, Roche,” said Frances, +as we passed that functionary. + +“Ay? Well, you and Nell be pretty well weighted too, surely,” drawled +Roche. + +“Oh, gimcracks, and clothes for the wash-’us (house),” answered the girl +lightly, and in another moment we were in freedom—in the open air. + +“Oh, poor chaps; how good it is!” said Nellie, drawing a long breath. + +We went round to a piece of untidy waste land behind the prison. + +“I’ll be bound your arms aches,” said Frances. “Drop the buckats, Dan’l, +and thank ye.” + +“Here!” said I, “drop your gimcracks on this dirty place—what for?” + +“Oh, never mind what for; don’t argufy, my boy, them’s prison sweepings; +the gimcracks is in Nellie’s pail.” + +“Oh, I thought these were mighty heavy gimcracks. Well, let me carry +Nell’s pail to the shop.” + +“No, no!” cried Nell, stepping back, “I’d liefer car my own, don’t you +trouble.” + +“Then I’ll take your dirty linen,” said I, making a sudden grab at +Frances’ bundle. + +To my great surprise some bits of stone and a cloud of mortar flew out. + +“Hallo!” I said. + +“Look here, Dan’l,” said Fan, firmly, “we are greatly beholden for your +help, but we don’t want no more at present. You go on with Dan’l, Nell, +and leave me here to empt the buckats.” + +Nell put down her pail, took my arm, and marched me off. I was inclined +to be offended, but she soothed me down as any woman can when she +chooses. She assured me that both the engineer (whom she called +Jack—probably Jacques was his name) and the commissary had taken a great +fancy to me, and would undertake to teach me French if I would only go +often enough. + +I had not the least objection to going, as I found prison experiences +amusing, but I could not quite understand the bucket-carrying part of it. + +However, neither flattery nor a curiosity stimulus were unpleasing to me, +so I went frequently. + + + +CHAPTER XIII. +AWAY! AWAY! + + +A couple of weeks passed away thus, when one morning we were awakened +early by a clamour in the street. All Pembroke was in an uproar. All +that I could distinguish of the cries was one exclamation, “The French!” + +Had they broken out, and were they going to sack the place? The panic +reminded me of our feelings at Fishguard in the spring, but seemed more +strange to me now, for in the interim I had become comparatively intimate +with the foreigners, and had lost my fear of them. I jumped out of bed, +dragged on a garment or two, and flung open my little lattice window. + +“Where are the French?” I yelled. + +“Away, away!” came the answer. “Clean gone.” + +The idea occurred to me that if they had gone away clean they must have +been in a very different state to their usual condition; however, my +reflections were disturbed by the sudden appearance of my Aunt Jane; she +burst in head foremost. + +“Where’s Eleanor?” she gasped. + +“Where are the French?” I answered lightly, “Away, away!” + +“Are ye cursëd, boy, or only dull?” {223} queried my angry relative. +“What d’ye mean?” + +“Nothing,” I answered; “only I know no more about Nell than I do about +the French. Isn’t she in the shop?” + +“In the shop! My patience—she isn’t in the house, nor hasn’t been for +hours. Her bed is cold; I doubt she never got into un, only +topsy-turvied un a bit.” + +“Nellie really gone!” I was beginning to grasp the situation. “Oh, Aunt +Jane; she must have gone with Jack.” + +“Who’s Jack, name o’ fortune? I heard tell of a Billy and a Tommy, but +norra Jack.” + +“Oh, this wasn’t a Pembroke Jack, but Mounseer Jacques Roux, Esq., an +engineer.” + +“A Mounseer!” Words failed my venerable relative; she sat down and went +off into hysterics, which brought Aunt Rebecca to the rescue, and in the +confusion I sidled down the stairs and escaped. + +I made my way through the crowd to the Golden Prison, and here a light +dawned, and many things became clear to me. A crowd of people were +standing at what appeared to me to be a hole in the ground, about sixty +yards from the wall of the prison. I edged myself through the lookers-on +till I had reached the hole; it was one end of a subterranean passage, +the other end of which doubtless emerged—but a sick qualm came over me, +and to make matters worse at this moment I espied—and was seen by—Roche +the turnkey. He was looking very small, but assumed an air of bluster +when he perceived me. + +“Arrest that young chap there,” he ordered his assistants. “He was a +helping o’ they sneaking scoundrels; I see un.” + +In another moment the two men had me in tow, and being also propelled by +the crowd in a few minutes, I found myself inside the Golden Prison. I +did not find the place at all entertaining this time. However, there +were some magistrates there, and one of them, a Dr. Mansell, ordered the +men to loose their hold while he questioned me. + +I told all I knew, and at the end was relieved, but mortified to hear him +say, “There is no occasion to detain him, the boy evidently knew nothing +about it. He was a young ass, but he is not the first of us who has been +befooled by a woman.” + +At this there was a general guffaw in which I tried to join, but I felt +as small as Roche the turnkey. It appeared that all those pails and +bundles had been full of earth, stones, and mortar, which the men had +scraped out in making the tunnel. I went into the little inner room, and +there in the floor, just behind where Pierre Lebrun used to sit, +surrounded with bundles of straw, blocks of wood, etc., was the other end +of the subterranean passage. They had absolutely scratched through the +thick wall of the prison, and then grubbed like moles through sixty yards +of earth, with no other implement than the bones of horses’ legs. + +I did not care for the remarks of the bystanders, and I got out of that +gaol as quickly as I could, but not before Dr. Mansell had asked me +another question or two. + +“I hear Frances Martin has absconded,” he said. “Can you tell me +anything about Eleanor? She lives with your aunts, I think.” + +“She is not to be found, sir,” I answered. “She is off with Jack, no +doubt.” + +“Jack?” + +“Mounseer Jacques Roux, the engineer.” + +“Ah, the fellow who managed the tunnelling. Why do you pitch upon him?” + +“I didn’t—she did, because he used to kiss her.” + +“Kiss! By George, didn’t that rouse your suspicions?” cried the doctor. + +“No, sir, they said it was the French way of shaking hands.” + +“Go along, softy!” cried the crowd, and I went. But as I went I heard +the stentorian voice of Dr. Mansell proclaim— + +“Five hundred guineas reward for the recovery of those two young women, +dead or alive!” + +In a few hours handbills to this effect were posted all over the place, +and, as soon as practicable, in every town in the kingdom; by which the +names of Frances Martin and Eleanor Martin must have become well known. +Whenever I saw one of these placards it seemed to me as if I had had +something to do with a great crime, and that part of the five hundred +guineas would perhaps be given for my body some day—dead or alive. + +I walked down to the shore to a little port on the outside of the town, +the very place to which I had been on the previous Sunday with Nell. I +remembered, with another qualm, the interest which she had taken in the +shipping, and how she had even begged me to ask some questions of the +sailors, who, as usual, lounged about where they could smell tar. She +said it was awkward for a girl to talk to these rough fellows, but that +it was a pleasant variety for a young man. So, of course, I asked all +the questions she desired about incoming sloops. I, thinking these +questions referred to some sailor sweetheart, took no account of the +matter at all. As we looked and talked we perceived a sloop in the +offing coming in. The men said she would be in shortly, and that she was +bringing culm for the use of Lord Cawdor’s household. + +Nellie seemed very pleased and happy as she watched the sloop coming +rapidly nearer, a brisk breeze from the south filling her sails and +urging her onwards. The only boat actually in the harbour was Lord +Cawdor’s yacht. + +His lordship’s yacht was now nowhere to be seen; the sloop was still +there, for owing to the breeze and the sailors’ hurry to get ashore on +Sunday, they had run her aground, and there she was hard and fast, but +not in the same state as on Sunday. A hundred Frenchmen had made their +escape, creeping through their tunnel and jumping out at the other end +like so many jack-in-the-boxes. Some of the fugitives made at once for +the yacht, some for the sloop, which, to their great disappointment, they +found aground. They boarded it, lashed the sailors’ hands and feet +(these men now recounted the story, each man to a listening crowd, which +we must hope was a slight solace for their sufferings)—they took compass, +water casks, and every scrap of food and clothing they could find; then +conveyed them aboard the yacht which they launched, and off they were. +The tied-up sailors had seen nothing of any women, but between darkness +and surprise it was a wonder they had noted as much as they had. + +This was all that we could gather at the time; it was only enough to make +us very uncomfortable about the fate of the two rash girls. My position +was not made more comfortable by the constant reproaches of my two old +aunts, who seemed to think me in some way responsible for Nell’s +escapade. Altogether I was not sorry that it was decided to send me back +at once to St. David’s; school was better than scorn. But the very night +before I left Pembroke, my uncomfortable feelings were doomed to be +deepened. The stern of the yacht was washed ashore with other timbers, +on one of which his lordship’s name was inscribed. There could be little +doubt of the fate of those on board. The weather had been rough and +foggy, and these French soldiers were probably little skilled in +navigation. So I departed to St. David’s with a heavy heart. + +Some weeks passed in the usual course of classics and mathematics rammed +in by main force, when one day there came a letter to me in Aunt Jane’s +handwriting. I was surprised, for my aunts were not given to +composition; but on opening the envelope I found Aunt Jane had +written—nothing. She had merely enclosed, oh, greater surprise, a +foreign letter. I had never had, and never expected to have, a foreign +correspondent. What language would he write in—a quick hope flashed +through me that it might not be Latin, any other I would give up quietly. + +I opened the letter and perceived it was in English. It ran as follows:— + + “DEAR MASTR DANL,—I hope as this finds you well as it leaves me at + present. You was main good to we, so I pens this line to say as I am + no longer Eleanor Martin but Madam Roux. [Oh joy! I didn’t care + what her name was as long as she wasn’t drowned.] Yes, me and Jack + have married, only he likes it writ Jacques which is a mort of + trouble. Howsomever we gets along lovely so likewise do Frances and + her young man Peter which were a commisser and she is now Madam + Lebrun. We did a main lot for they lads—which they was grateful. + Praps you’d like to hear that after we got safe away in his ludship’s + yat, after you’d kindly helpd we to burrow out o jail, we come in for + three days fog. Short commons there was till we overtook a brig, + gave out as we was shiprackt and was took aboord, Fan and me dressed + as lads. That night we was too many for the crew of the brig, as + nocked under and us made them steer for France, so here we be. The + brig had corn aboord, so we wasnt clemmed. We let the yat go. + Hoping to see you soon, I remains, + + “Your humbel servant to command, + “NELLIE.” + +Her ending wish was granted some years after, when peace was settled +between England and France. Nellie and her husband, the engineer, came +back to Wales and settled for a time in Merthyr, where they opened a +large inn, he following his profession in the mines, both he and his wife +roasting me unmercifully when I went to stay with them (a full-fledged +curate), on the assistance I had once rendered to the French prisoners in +a mining operation; but I hope all will understand that this assistance +was unintentional on my part, and that I greatly condemn the unpatriotic +conduct of the sisters. + + * * * * * + + The Gresham Press. + + UNWIN BROTHERS, + CHILWORTH AND LONDON. + + + + +NOTES. + + +{14} Laws, “Little England beyond Wales.” + +{18} These letters are given in the narrative. + +{26} “Biographie de Lazare Hoche,” par Emile de Bonnechose. Hachette, +Paris. + +{36} Laws, “Little England beyond Wales.” Mason, Tenby. + +{51} Cawl—leek broth. + +{52} Cwrw da—good ale. + +{80} “Taws pia hi,” a Welsh proverb. + +{115} Dear Davy. + +{129} A fact. + +{154} Now in the possession of Mr. Brett, the well-known +artist.—EDITOR’S NOTE. + +{209} _Crut_, probably a contraction of _creature_. + +{223} _Dull_, stupid. + + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FISHGUARD INVASION BY THE FRENCH +IN 1797*** + + +******* This file should be named 41144-0.txt or 41144-0.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/4/1/1/4/41144 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at + www.gutenberg.org/license. + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at 809 +North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email +contact links and up to date contact information can be found at the +Foundation's web site and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For forty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. |