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diff --git a/41144-h/41144-h.htm b/41144-h/41144-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c13a2be --- /dev/null +++ b/41144-h/41144-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4353 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=US-ASCII" /> +<title>The Fishguard Invasion by the French in 1797, by M. E. James</title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + P { margin-top: .75em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + P.gutsumm { margin-left: 5%;} + P.poetry {margin-left: 3%; } + .GutSmall { font-size: 0.7em; } + H1, H2 { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + } + H3, H4, H5 { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + } + BODY{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + table { border-collapse: collapse; } +table {margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto;} + td { vertical-align: top; border: 1px solid black;} + td p { margin: 0.2em; } + .blkquot {margin-left: 4em; margin-right: 4em;} /* block indent */ + + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .pagenum {position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: small; + text-align: right; + font-weight: normal; + color: gray; + } + img { border: none; } + img.dc { float: left; width: 50px; height: 50px; } + p.gutindent { margin-left: 2em; } + div.gapspace { height: 0.8em; } + div.gapline { height: 0.8em; width: 100%; border-top: 1px solid;} + div.gapmediumline { height: 0.3em; width: 40%; margin-left:30%; + border-top: 1px solid; } + div.gapmediumdoubleline { height: 0.3em; width: 40%; margin-left:30%; + border-top: 1px solid; border-bottom: 1px solid;} + div.gapshortdoubleline { height: 0.3em; width: 20%; + margin-left: 40%; border-top: 1px solid; + border-bottom: 1px solid; } + div.gapdoubleline { height: 0.3em; width: 50%; + margin-left: 25%; border-top: 1px solid; + border-bottom: 1px solid;} + div.gapshortline { height: 0.3em; width: 20%; margin-left:40%; + border-top: 1px solid; } + .citation {vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: none;} + img.floatleft { float: left; + margin-right: 1em; + margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; } + img.floatright { float: right; + margin-left: 1em; margin-top: 0.5em; + margin-bottom: 0.5em; } + img.clearcenter {display: block; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0.5em; + margin-bottom: 0.5em} + --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> +<pre> + +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: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FISHGUARD INVASION BY THE +FRENCH IN 1797*** +</pre> +<p>This ebook was transcribed by Les Bowler.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a href="images/fp.jpg"> +<img alt= +"Disembarkation" +title= +"Disembarkation" +src="images/fp.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<h1>THE FISHGUARD INVASION<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">BY THE</span><br /> +FRENCH IN 1797</h1> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">SOME +PASSAGES TAKEN FROM THE DIARY OF THE LATE</span><br /> +<span class="GutSmall">REVEREND DANIEL ROWLANDS, +SOMETIME</span><br /> +<span class="GutSmall">VICAR OF LLANFIANGELPENYBONT</span></p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center">London<br /> +T. FISHER UNWIN<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">PATERNOSTER SQUARE</span><br /> +<span class="GutSmall">MDCCCXCII</span></p> +<p style="text-align: center"><a name="page3"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 3</span>Dedicated<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">BY PERMISSION</span><br /> +<span class="GutSmall">TO</span><br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THE RIGHT HONOURABLE</span><br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THE</span><br /> +EARL OF CAWDOR</p> +<h2><a name="page5"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +5</span>CONTENTS</h2> +<table> +<tr> +<td colspan="3"><p style="text-align: right"><span +class="GutSmall">PAGE</span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p>INTRODUCTION</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page9">9</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="3"><p style="text-align: center">WEDNESDAY.<br /> +<i>THE FIRST DAY</i>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p><span class="GutSmall">CHAP.</span></p> +</td> +<td><p> </p> +</td> +<td><p> </p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">I.</p> +</td> +<td><p>THREE FRIGATES</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page43">43</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">II.</p> +</td> +<td><p>THE LANDING</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page54">54</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">III.</p> +</td> +<td><p>THE FATE OF THE CLOCK</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page75">75</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">IV.</p> +</td> +<td><p>THE PRIEST’S PEEP-HOLE</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page88">88</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="3"><p style="text-align: center">THURSDAY.<br /> +<i>THE SECOND DAY</i>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">V.</p> +</td> +<td><p>DAVY JONES’ LOCKER</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page109">109</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">VI.</p> +</td> +<td><p>WELSH WIVES</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page125">125</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">VII.</p> +</td> +<td><p>GENERAL TATE’S LETTER</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page139">139</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="3"><p style="text-align: center"><a +name="page6"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 6</span>FRIDAY.<br /> +<i>THE THIRD DAY</i>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">VIII.</p> +</td> +<td><p>THE GATHERING AT GOODWICH</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page159">159</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">IX.</p> +</td> +<td><p>THE CAPITULATION</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page171">171</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">X.</p> +</td> +<td><p>TREHOWEL ONCE MORE</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page180">180</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="3"><p style="text-align: center">SEQUEL.<br /> +<i>THE GOLDEN PRISON AT PEMBROKE</i>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">XI.</p> +</td> +<td><p>THE GENERAL THANKSGIVING</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page193">193</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">XII.</p> +</td> +<td><p>INSIDE THE GOLDEN PRISON</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page204">204</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">XIII.</p> +</td> +<td><p>AWAY! AWAY!!</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page222">222</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<h2><a name="page7"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 7</span>LIST OF +ILLUSTRATIONS.</h2> +<table> +<tr> +<td><p>THE DISEMBARKATION (<i>From an old print</i>)</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>Frontispiece</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>STAND OF ARMS IN TENBY MUSEUM</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page20">20</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>THE FRENCH FRIGATES (<i>From an old print</i>)</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page43">43</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>CARREGWASTAD</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page54">54</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>COTTAGE AT CASTELL</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page75">75</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>A RANSACKED FARMHOUSE</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page109">109</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>THE “ROYAL OAK” AT FISHGUARD</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page139">139</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>TREHOWEL: GENERAL TATE’S HEADQUARTERS</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page184">184</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<h2><a name="page9"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +9</span>INTRODUCTION.</h2> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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 <a +name="page10"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 10</span>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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>In the second place, the following books and +pamphlets:—</p> +<p><a name="page11"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +11</span>Fenton’s “Pembrokeshire,” pp. 10, 11, +and 12.</p> +<p>“The Book of South Wales,” by C. F. Cliffe, p. +251.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“The Red Dragon,” 1885. <i>Western Mail</i> +Office, Cardiff.</p> +<p>“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 <a name="page12"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +12</span>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.</p> +<p>Laws, “Little England beyond Wales,” p. 367.</p> +<p>I am indebted to the kindness of Mr. Leach, the editor of the +<i>Tenby Observer</i>, 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:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Thursday</i>, <i>Feb.</i> 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 <a name="page13"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +13</span>Fishguard in the County, who on the next day surrendered +themselves up to the Welsh etc., that went to oppose them as +<i>prisoners of war</i>, and were marched accordingly by Saturday +25th to Haverfordwest. . . 1s.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>This entry could not have been entirely made on Feb. 23rd, +unless the worthy overseer had the gift of prophecy.</p> +<p>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 <i>fin de +siècle</i> 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.</p> +<p>The <i>European Magazine</i> of the period <a +name="page14"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 14</span>gives the +names of the vessels: <i>La Résistance</i>, commanded by +Monsieur Montague, 40 guns, eighteen pounders on her main deck, +345 men. The other frigate <i>La Constance</i>, commanded +by Monsieur Desauny, mounted 24 nine-pounders on her main deck, +with 189 men. <a name="citation14"></a><a href="#footnote14" +class="citation">[14]</a></p> +<p>One of the frigates and the corvette were eventually captured +off Brest by the <i>St. Fiorenzo</i> frigate (Captain Sir H. B. +Neale, Bart.) and the <i>La Nymphe</i> (Captain J. Cooke), who +took them both into Portsmouth, where the frigate was repaired +and rechristened the <i>Fisgard</i>, 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.</p> +<p>The officers present at the council of war held at the +“Royal Oak,” Fishguard, were <a +name="page15"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 15</span>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.</p> +<p>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:—</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center"><a +name="page16"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 16</span><i>From Lord +Milford</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center">“<span +class="smcap">Haverfordwest</span>,</p> +<p style="text-align: right">“<i>February</i> 26, 1797, Six +o’clock <span class="GutSmall">A.M.</span></p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>“<span class="smcap">Haverfordwest</span>,</p> +<p style="text-align: right">“<i>February</i> 24, Nine +o’clock <span class="GutSmall">P.M.</span></p> +<p>“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 <a +name="page17"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 17</span>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.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The following letter was written by Lord Cawdor to the Duke of +Portland:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“<span class="smcap">Fishguard</span>,</p> +<p style="text-align: right">“<i>Friday</i>, +<i>February</i> 24, 1797.</p> +<p>“<span class="smcap">My Lord</span>,—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 +name="page18"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 18</span>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), <a name="citation18"></a><a href="#footnote18" +class="citation">[18]</a> 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 <a +name="page19"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 19</span>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.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">“I am, &c.,<br /> +“<span class="smcap">Cawdor</span>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a href="images/p20.jpg"> +<img alt= +"Stand of Arms in Tenby Museum" +title= +"Stand of Arms in Tenby Museum" +src="images/p20.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<p>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 <a name="page20"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 20</span>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.</p> +<p>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 <a +name="page21"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 21</span>represented +sun, moon, and stars, with the inscription <i>Cassaguard</i>, +<i>Fourbisseur du Roy</i>, <i>Nantes</i>. 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 <i>gage +d’amour</i>. 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 <i>Lady +Kenmare</i> 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.</p> +<p><a name="page22"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 22</span>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.</p> +<blockquote><p><a name="page23"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +23</span>“<span class="smcap">Oxford Street</span>,</p> +<p style="text-align: center">“<i>Monday morn</i>, +<i>March</i> 13, 1797.</p> +<p>“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 <a name="page24"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +24</span>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 (<i>sic</i>) 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 +<a name="page25"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 25</span>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 (<i>sic</i>) 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., <a name="page26"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +26</span>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.”</p> +<p style="text-align: center">[No signature.]</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Having disposed of the rank and file of the expedition, there +comes the natural question, what was its <i>raison +d’étre</i>? 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 <a name="citation26"></a><a +href="#footnote26" class="citation">[26]</a> proves that a much +larger idea than this was in the mind <a name="page27"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 27</span>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 <a name="page28"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 28</span>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 <a +name="page29"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +29</span>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.”</p> +<p>In the appendix of the same work we find the source from which +Hoche compiled his instructions.</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center">“<span +class="smcap">Note</span> D.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p><a name="page30"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +30</span>“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.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p style="text-align: center">* * * * *</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p><a name="page31"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +31</span>“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.</p> +<p style="text-align: center">* * * * *</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“Il ne faut point de grands approvisionnements en effets +d’habillement: les ressources de la troupe seront dans son +courage et dans ses armes.</p> +<p style="text-align: center">* * * * *</p> +<p>“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 <a +name="page32"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 32</span>yeux de nos +ennemis la quantité de nos forces, soit parce que les +moyens de subsistance en seront plus faciles.</p> +<p>“En arrivant, les chefs s’annonceront, eux et +leurs soldats, comme <i>vengeurs de la liberté et ennemis +des tyrans</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center">* * * * *</p> +<p>“Il faut que la troupe jure <i>querre aux +châteaux</i> et <i>paix aux chaumières</i>, et que +sa conduite, surtout au début, soit conforme à +cette déclaration.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p style="text-align: center">* * * * *</p> +<p>“Il faut poursuivre l’ennemi à outrance +quand il est battu, et ne point faire quartier aux +prisonniers.</p> +<p><a name="page33"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +33</span>“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.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>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:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“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.’</p> +<p>“The legion is completely armed; he will <a +name="page34"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 34</span>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>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 <a name="page35"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 35</span>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>These instructions are taken from a pamphlet printed for <a +name="page36"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 36</span>J. Wright, +169, Piccadilly (1798), the text of which is copied from attested +transcripts of the original documents. The instructions +continue:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“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.” <a name="citation36"></a><a href="#footnote36" +class="citation">[36]</a></p> +</blockquote> +<p>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 <a +name="page37"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 37</span>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center">“<span +class="smcap">Whitehall</span>, <i>May</i> 18, 1853.</p> +<p>“<span class="smcap">Sir</span>,—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 <a name="page38"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 38</span>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.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">“I have the honour to be, +sir,<br /> +“Your obedient servant,<br /> +“<span class="smcap">Palmerston</span>.</p> +<p>“Sir John Owen, Bart., M.P.”</p> +</blockquote> +<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 <a +name="page39"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 39</span>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.</p> +<h2><a name="page41"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +41</span>WEDNESDAY.<br /> +<i>THE FIRST DAY</i>.</h2> +<h3><a name="page43"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +43</span>CHAPTER I.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THREE FRIGATES.</span></h3> +<p>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 <a name="page44"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 44</span>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.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a href="images/p43.jpg"> +<img alt= +"The French Frigates" +title= +"The French Frigates" +src="images/p43.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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 <a +name="page45"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 45</span>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p><a name="page46"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 46</span>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.</p> +<p>“Whither so fast, John?” I shouted, in our own +tongue. He was past me as I spoke.</p> +<p>“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 <a name="page47"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +47</span>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.</p> +<p>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 <a +name="page48"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 48</span>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.</p> +<p>“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 <a +name="page49"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 49</span>out of +respect to my cloth I subdue his expressions slightly.)</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“They’ve English colours, sir,” I said to +Mr. Williams.</p> +<p>“Foreigners are deceitful,” says he, “up <a +name="page50"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 50</span>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.”</p> +<p>This was the moment afterwards immortalised by a local bard in +these words—</p> +<blockquote><p>“Mrs. Williams Trelethin was know every +tide<br /> +From England to Greenland without guide.<br /> +Mrs. Williams Trelethin was take the spy-glass,<br /> +And then she cry out—There they Wass!”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>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 <a name="page51"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +51</span>sharp rocks anywhere. However the day was too fair +to admit of any such hope.</p> +<p>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 <a +name="citation51"></a><a href="#footnote51" +class="citation">[51]</a> and the children to mind themselves, +while their natural caretakers gaped open-mouthed at the tall +ships filled with untold dangers.</p> +<p>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 <a name="page52"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +52</span>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. <a name="citation52"></a><a href="#footnote52" +class="citation">[52]</a></p> +<p>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 <a +name="page53"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 53</span>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.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a href="images/p54.jpg"> +<img alt= +"Carregwastad" +title= +"Carregwastad" +src="images/p54.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<h3><a name="page54"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +54</span>CHAPTER II.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THE LANDING.</span></h3> +<p>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 <a +name="page55"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 55</span>thereon, and +who probably lacked more ordinary society.</p> +<p>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 <a +name="page56"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 56</span>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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 <a name="page57"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +57</span>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>All disguise was now over; the enemy showed under their true +colours at last, and <a name="page58"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 58</span>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 <i>Black Prince</i>—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 <i>Black Prince</i> sheered off. “Set a +thief to catch a thief;” but it were ungrateful to think on +that proverb.</p> +<p><a name="page59"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 59</span>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p><a name="page60"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 60</span>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.</p> +<p>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 <a name="page61"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 61</span>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, <a +name="page62"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 62</span>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.</p> +<p>Suddenly there rose a shriek, or, rather, a succession of +shrieks breaking through <a name="page63"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 63</span>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“The poor maid has had a scare,” said <a +name="page64"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 64</span>he, with a +twinkle still in his eye. “But, in truth, Dan, my +boy, I suppose it is time to be off.”</p> +<p>“Oh, there’s a pity,” said I; “about +Master Mortimer’s wedding—and all the meats and +drinks!”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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 <a +name="page65"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 65</span>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.</p> +<p>“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!”</p> +<p>He nodded, then shaking his rein, rode off without a word.</p> +<p>“And what are you going to do, Nancy?” said +I. “Isn’t it time for you to be off +too?”</p> +<p>“Oh, no odds about me. I’ll slip off +somehow, but I must get the silver spoons first.”</p> +<p><a name="page66"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 66</span>Then +she turned from me, and her voice broke suddenly.</p> +<p>“Wherever is Davy—oh, wherever is he?” she +sobbed.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>At this moment the clang of arms and the sound of high-pitched +voices broke on our ears.</p> +<p>“I’ll have those spoons if I die for it!” +exclaimed Ann, who was not much given <a name="page67"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 67</span>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.</p> +<p>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; <a +name="page68"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 68</span>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 <a +name="page69"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 69</span>dusky sky +loomed forth a wild figure, then another and another, then a +confused crowd.</p> +<p>I could stand no more. With one bound I passed from +behind my bushes in through the back door of the house—</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Why, who asked you to wait?” said Ann George, +ungratefully. “I thought you’d be half-way to +Goodwick ere this.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>So we departed as quickly and as silently as possible through +the back door, while the front door was being shivered to atoms, +and <a name="page70"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 70</span>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.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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!”</p> +<p>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 <a +name="page71"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 71</span>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.</p> +<p>“Let us go to the top of Carnunda,” suggested this +man. “We can see everything from there.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p><a name="page72"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 72</span>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.</p> +<p>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) <a +name="page73"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 73</span>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.</p> +<p>“Thank the Lord for that,” said Llewelyn.</p> +<p>Nancy and I laughed aloud. It is impossible to give any +idea of the exultation that we felt.</p> +<p><a name="page74"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +74</span>“What words they are using over that!” said +Nancy.</p> +<p>“Oh, don’t I wish we were near enough to hear +them!” said I, totally unmindful of my future +profession.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Thank the Lord again,” said Llewelyn.</p> +<h3><a name="page75"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +75</span>CHAPTER III.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THE FATE OF THE CLOCK.</span></h3> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p><a name="page76"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 76</span>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.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a href="images/p75.jpg"> +<img alt= +"Cottage at Castell" +title= +"Cottage at Castell" +src="images/p75.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<p>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 <a name="page77"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 77</span>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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 <a +name="page78"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 78</span>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.</p> +<p>I at once referred to this fact with a boy’s utter want +of delicacy in matters of sentiment.</p> +<p>“What are you bothering about Davy for? I thought +it was Jim you liked.”</p> +<p><a name="page79"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +79</span>“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.”</p> +<p>I whistled. “Was that because he got into trouble +for horse-stealing? Why, as to that, Davy’s none too +particular.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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—”</p> +<p>“Don’t quarrel, children,” said Llewelyn, +who was of a quiet disposition. “And don’t <a +name="page80"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 80</span>shout or +you’ll bring the French upon us. Silence holds it +here. <a name="citation80"></a><a href="#footnote80" +class="citation">[80]</a> Just look there!”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>Further off the semi-circle of hills blazed with warning +beacons. It was a sight <a name="page81"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 81</span>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 <a name="page82"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +82</span>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.</p> +<p>“Deuks!” said Llewelyn, “they are coming out +to see what they can get, the scoundrels; I must run back to +Brestgarn.”</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“But what will you do, Nancy?” I asked.</p> +<p>“I will go to my Aunt Jemima, I’ll be safe enough +with her; don’t trouble about <a name="page83"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 83</span>me, my dear,” said Nancy, our +short-lived quarrel being happily over.</p> +<p>“That is in Fishguard, you can’t go there alone, +wait a bit for me,” said I, with youthful assurance.</p> +<p>“I can hide you at Brestgarn if you want to come, but +better go on to Fishguard,” said Llewelyn.</p> +<p>By this time, however, we were almost at the farm, for we had +run down the steep side of Carnunda without any delay.</p> +<p>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 <a name="page84"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 84</span>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.</p> +<p>“Deuks!” said Llewelyn, again. +“They’ve found the port.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“No odds, don’t fret for the wine,” <a +name="page85"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 85</span>whispered +Nancy. “We’ll get plenty again. I only +hope there’s a good store of brandy in the houses, +too.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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 <a +name="page86"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 86</span>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.</p> +<p>“Brenhin mawr!” yelled Llewelyn, forgetting all +caution in his exasperation. “The scoundrels have +shot our eight day clock!”</p> +<p>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 <a name="page87"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +87</span>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.</p> +<h3><a name="page88"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +88</span>CHAPTER IV.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THE PRIEST’S PEEP-HOLE.</span></h3> +<p>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 <a +name="page89"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 89</span>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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, <a name="page90"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 90</span>and it ought to have been a matter of +no small difficulty to oust them therefrom, had they but planted +themselves firmly in it.</p> +<p>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—</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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 <a name="page91"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +91</span>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.</p> +<p>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 +<a name="page92"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 92</span>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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 <a +name="page93"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 93</span>show you the +place. It is at the other side of the church. Come +across quietly, now.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>After having injured her shins several times over unexpected +obstacles, Nancy sighed forth, “Oh for a light!”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p><a name="page94"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +94</span>“Don’t you want it?” I felt +impelled by manners to say this, though I felt wolfish.</p> +<p>“Not I. I had my dinner as usual. I put it +in my pocket in case of meeting—a friend.”</p> +<p>“Do your—friends like cheese?” I asked with +my mouth full.</p> +<p>“You seem to, any way,” retorted Nancy. +“I hear them coming.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Here’s the hole—you go first. +I’ll close it up after us with a pew door.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p><a name="page95"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +95</span>“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.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>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,</p> +<p>“Oh, do get on, Dan; I expect them here every +minute.”</p> +<p>I did get on, and found after mounting <a +name="page96"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 96</span>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.</p> +<p>“What a queer place—what’s it for, +Nancy?” I asked.</p> +<p>“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 <a +name="page97"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 97</span>but expected +sound—the clamorous jabber of many tongues.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“Won’t they?” said Ann, scornfully. +“You wait a minute—Hst!”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p><a name="page98"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +98</span>“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.</p> +<p>“Hst!” retorted Nan; “hold your tongue, +can’t you, and keep your head down; don’t let them +see you peeping, Dan!”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>C-r-a-ck—<i>crack</i>! 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 <a +name="page99"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 99</span>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Perhaps they’ll think it’s a clock,” +I reflected.</p> +<p>“Oh, dear! oh, dear!”</p> +<p>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 <a name="page100"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 100</span>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 <a +name="page101"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 101</span>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.</p> +<p>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 <a name="page102"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +102</span>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.</p> +<p><a name="page103"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +103</span>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.</p> +<p>“Great Heaven, we shall be burnt like rats, Nan!” +I whispered to my companion, but she answered by her favourite +expression, “Hst!”</p> +<p>One soldier, I imagine by way of a joke, now threw the pulpit +cushion on the flames, <a name="page104"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 104</span>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.</p> +<p>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 <a name="page105"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +105</span>sharp act of awakening, which act assures us, in the +most matter-of-fact manner, that we have been asleep.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Wake up, Dan! Wake up, boy; we must <a +name="page106"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 106</span>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.”</p> +<p>We had, indeed, quite suddenly, as it seemed to me, reached +the morning of Thursday.</p> +<h2><a name="page107"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +107</span>THURSDAY.<br /> +<i>THE SECOND DAY</i>.</h2> +<h3><a name="page109"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +109</span>CHAPTER V.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">DAVY JONES’ LOCKER.</span></h3> +<p>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.</p> +<p>We crept as quietly as we could down from our uncomfortable +hiding-place, so stiff <a name="page110"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 110</span>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.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a href="images/p109.jpg"> +<img alt= +"Ransacked Farmhouse" +title= +"Ransacked Farmhouse" +src="images/p109.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>We crept along to the leper’s hole, using <a +name="page111"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 111</span>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.</p> +<p>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 <a name="page112"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 112</span>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 name="page113"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +113</span>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 <a name="page114"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 114</span>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 <a name="page115"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 115</span>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.</p> +<p>“Oh, Dio bach,” <a name="citation115"></a><a +href="#footnote115" class="citation">[115]</a> she said, “I +am glad to see you this time, if I never was before.”</p> +<p>And she really looked as if she could have kissed him.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“Why, I had to stop and see to everything—and the +silver spoons,” said Nancy, quite meekly.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p><a name="page116"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +116</span>“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?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Llewelyn is a prisoner; did you see him? Is he +safe?” asked Nancy, as we hurried along.</p> +<p>“Hush, quick and quiet; I’ll tell you in the +boat,” whispered Davy.</p> +<p>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, <a name="page117"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 117</span>and in a few moments we had reached +the level of the sea.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Jump in, boy, and give a hand to Nancy.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Ah, what is that?” in a horror-struck whisper +from Ann.</p> +<p><a name="page118"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +118</span><i>That</i> was a dark blue object, very unpleasing to +behold, sodden with water, and wedged in a crevice of the +cliffs.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Where have you been, Davy?” I asked, to divert +his remorseful thoughts, and unable to restrain my curiosity.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“Oh, Davy, you shouldn’t!” from Ann.</p> +<p>“And I got in too near, never expecting ships here; who +would? We were round the corner and on them almost, before +we <a name="page119"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 119</span>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.”</p> +<p>“You didn’t like to leave Levi,” said Nancy, +softly.</p> +<p><a name="page120"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +120</span>“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.”</p> +<p>“Did you see the chief?” I asked, eagerly.</p> +<p>“’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 +<i>Britannia</i>, 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. <a name="page121"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +121</span>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—”</p> +<p>A cry interrupted him, succeeded by a loud splashing of +oars.</p> +<p>“And, hang them, there they are again. Why-ever +couldn’t you hold your tongue, Dan?”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>Nancy leant forward.</p> +<p>“Change with me for a spell, Dan. I can +row.”</p> +<p><a name="page122"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 122</span>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.</p> +<p>“I think we’ll do now,” said Davy. +“Please Providence, they may easily be smashed to atoms +here.”</p> +<p>And he looked gratefully at the sharp rocks.</p> +<p>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 <a name="page123"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 123</span>side; just in front of us a little +sandy beach. Davy pushed the boat towards a narrow slit in +the rocks.</p> +<p>“Jump in there, my girl,” he said. +“Don’t be afraid; if you slip, I’ll catch +you.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Go on as far as you can,” whispered Davy. +“If they see this slit, they can only come one at a time, +and—”</p> +<p>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 <a +name="page124"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 124</span>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<h3><a name="page125"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +125</span>CHAPTER VI.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">WELSH WIVES.</span></h3> +<p>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.</p> +<p>The first thing to be done in this situation <a +name="page126"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 126</span>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.</p> +<p>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 <a +name="page127"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 127</span>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>The fear of the French was an unknown quantity, but the fear +of the Major was very well known indeed, and Mr. Jones went.</p> +<p>We mingled exultantly with the throng of our people, and +presently our eyes were gladdened by the sight of a gallant body +of <a name="page128"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +128</span>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.</p> +<p>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 <a name="page129"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +129</span>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, <a +name="citation129"></a><a href="#footnote129" +class="citation">[129]</a> 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.</p> +<p><a name="page130"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +130</span>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.</p> +<p>“The Lord hath delivered them into our <a +name="page131"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +131</span>hand,” said the Reverend Mr. Jones, who stood +near.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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 <a name="page132"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +132</span>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 <a name="page133"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +133</span>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.</p> +<p><a name="page134"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 134</span>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:—</p> +<p>“Take time, my boys, and do it well!”</p> +<p>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 <a +name="page135"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 135</span>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.</p> +<p>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 <a name="page136"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +136</span>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>And now we, on our knoll—and there <a +name="page137"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 137</span>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 <a name="page138"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +138</span>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<h3><a name="page139"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +139</span>CHAPTER VII.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">GENERAL TATE’S LETTER.</span></h3> +<p>I also retired to Fishguard in order to calm my mother’s +mind about my safety—and also to get my supper.</p> +<p>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. <a +name="page140"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 140</span>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.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a href="images/p139.jpg"> +<img alt= +"The “Royal Oak” at Fishguard" +title= +"The “Royal Oak” at Fishguard" +src="images/p139.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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 <a name="page141"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +141</span>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.</p> +<p>Nancy, to my surprise, seemed to have been indulging in the +luxury of tears.</p> +<p>“What on earth is the matter with you, Nan?” I +asked, with unfeeling openness. “Your eyes are quite +red.”</p> +<p>Nancy shot a glance of anger at me from the orbs in question, +but vouchsafed no answer.</p> +<p>“Why, don’t you know,” interposed Jemima, +“that her young man was wounded in the fight up there just +now?”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p><a name="page142"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +142</span>“You unfeeling young heathen!” burst out +Nancy. “But there, it’s no good talking; boys +have no more heart than cabbages.”</p> +<p>“A cabbage <i>has</i> a heart, Nancy,” I +retorted.</p> +<p>“Well, so’ve you—much the same sort,” +cried Ann, too cross for similes or logic.</p> +<p>Very much offended, I got up, but delivered this shaft before +I departed: “<i>All</i> 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.”</p> +<p>But the door slammed abruptly just behind my more backward +leg, and the rest of my remark was cut off.</p> +<p>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, +<a name="page143"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 143</span>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.</p> +<p>This position might, affording as it did ample opportunity for +the horse-play of the rude, seem <i>infra dig.</i> 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.</p> +<p>For a good space there was not much <a +name="page144"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 144</span>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.</p> +<p>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 <a name="page145"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +145</span>on making for the door of the inn, and no one actually +opposed their passage.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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 <a name="page146"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 146</span>possessed them as it had possessed +me. Consciousness and speech returned to them, and took the +outward form of maledictions.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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!”</p> +<p>“History!” repeated Mr. Evans, blankly. +“History happened long ago; this is only to-day.”</p> +<p>“Hst!” said the crowd.</p> +<p><a name="page147"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 147</span>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:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“<span class="smcap">Cardigan Bay</span>,<br +/> + +“5<i>th</i> <i>Ventose</i>,<br /> + + +“5<i>th</i> <i>Year of the Republic</i>.</p> +<p>“<span class="smcap">Sir</span>,—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 <a name="page148"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 148</span>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.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">“Health and respect,<br /> +“<span class="smcap">Tate</span>, <i>Chef de +Brigade</i>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>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. <a +name="page149"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 149</span>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.</p> +<p>“We have ten thousand men now in Fishguard,” said +he, “ten thousand more are on the road. Unconditional +surrender are our only terms.”</p> +<p>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, <a name="page150"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 150</span>but that they might tell him in the +meantime that his troops would be expected to parade for +surrender on the following day.</p> +<p>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 <a +name="page151"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 151</span>excellent +intention, but in the usual disjointed Welsh fashion.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: right"><a +name="page152"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +152</span>“<span class="smcap">Fishguard</span>, +<i>Feb.</i> 23<i>rd.</i></p> +<p>“<span class="smcap">Sir</span>,—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.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">“I am, &c.,<br /> +“<span class="smcap">Cawdor</span>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The major referred to was Major Ackland <a +name="page153"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 153</span>who +accompanied Captain Edwardes to Trehowel.</p> +<p>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?</p> +<p>Of course to a boy it was pure delight, and <a +name="page154"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 154</span>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.</p> +<p>We ran as far as a place called Windy Hall, <a +name="citation154"></a><a href="#footnote154" +class="citation">[154]</a> from whence there is a wide-stretching +view of Goodwick Sands and the most <a name="page155"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 155</span>perfectly-exposed down-hill slope +that could possibly be desired for the final volley of stones +with which we wished them goodnight.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<h2><a name="page157"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +157</span>FRIDAY.<br /> +<i>THE THIRD DAY</i>.</h2> +<h3><a name="page159"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +159</span>CHAPTER VIII.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THE GATHERING AT GOODWICK.</span></h3> +<p>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 <a +name="page160"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 160</span>will get to +next, or where you are sure to be in it, or still more, safe to +be out of it.</p> +<p>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 <a +name="page161"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 161</span>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.</p> +<p>Suddenly a wild voice and a wild figure smote our +senses—both eyes and ears.</p> +<p>“The dream, the dream!” it yelled. +“The dream is coming true!”</p> +<p>“What dream? What is it?” asked every one, +but there were more askers than answerers.</p> +<p>“Use your ears and listen!” continued the wild +voice. “Use your eyes and see!”</p> +<p>“Whoever is he, Jemima?” I asked, finding myself +near a reliable woman. Nancy stood some little way off +leaning against a cart.</p> +<p><a name="page162"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +162</span>“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.”</p> +<p>Why Jemima always persisted in calling the French +“blacks,” I know not; possibly because they were +foreigners, possibly she meant blackguards.</p> +<p>“My dream! I told it to ye, unbelieving race, aye, +thirty years ago!” yelled the old man.</p> +<p>“’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.”</p> +<p>“Thirty years ago I had the vision, and you know it, men +and neighbours.”</p> +<p>“Yes, yes, true for you, Enoch Lale,” answered +many a voice in the crowd; chiefly this response came from +elderly persons <a name="page163"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +163</span>who had doubtless heard the tale many a time.</p> +<p>“But I haven’t heard it. I wasn’t born +then,” I remarked.</p> +<p>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!”</p> +<p>“Come down off that cart and be quiet, Enoch Lale, or +you’ll be having a fit. We <a +name="page164"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 164</span>all know, +you’ve told your dream often enough; why you woke me up +that very night to tell it.”</p> +<p>And the prophet was taken possession of by a quiet elderly +woman, his better half.</p> +<p>“Well, we got rid of old I-told-you-so rather +suddenly,” I observed to Jemima. “But it is +very queer about his dream.”</p> +<p>“There’s a many things,” replied Jemima, +“as we don’t know nothing about—and dreams is +one of them.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>At the foot of these hills came a marsh, bounded by a road on +the other side of which <a name="page165"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 165</span>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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 <a name="page166"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 166</span>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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 <a name="page167"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +167</span>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.</p> +<p><a name="page168"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +168</span>“Why, Nancy!” I exclaimed, “is that +you?”</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“Oh, all right. I only thought you must be +somebody else,” I returned, politely.</p> +<p>Davy broke into a roar of laughter, and Ann, in spite of her +indignation, showed her row of white teeth.</p> +<p>“Go away, you tiresome boy, and look out for the +French,” was her recommendation.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“Take care of the spoons, Ann!” was my parting +shot, as I made my way a little further down the hill.</p> +<p>We all sat down on the ferny slopes and <a +name="page169"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 169</span>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.</p> +<p>So were the people who sat <a name="page170"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 170</span>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</p> +<blockquote><p>“Butchered to make a Roman +holiday.”</p> +</blockquote> +<h3><a name="page171"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +171</span>CHAPTER IX.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THE CAPITULATION.</span></h3> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Here they come!” came in a hoarse growl from +hundreds of guttural throats—speaking of course in +Welsh.</p> +<p>“Hst,” came the return growl from the other +portion of the crowd.</p> +<p>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 <a +name="page172"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 172</span>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“No doubt, most of us do,” assented Mr. +Mortimer. “Oh, Enoch’s somewhere about, never +fear. Hush, my boy, look there!”</p> +<p>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 <a name="page173"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 173</span>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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 <a name="page174"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +174</span>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.</p> +<p>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!”</p> +<p>There is no doubt that she certainly <a +name="page175"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 175</span>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.</p> +<p>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, <a name="page176"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +176</span>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.</p> +<p>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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>When they had thus deposited their old <a +name="page177"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 177</span>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.</p> +<p><a name="page178"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 178</span>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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>Madame Tate, though understanding <a name="page179"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 179</span>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>So ended the famous capitulation of the French on Goodwick +Sands.</p> +<h3><a name="page180"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +180</span>CHAPTER X.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">TREHOWEL ONCE MORE.</span></h3> +<p>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.</p> +<p><a name="page181"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +181</span>“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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Where are you going, master?” asked the faithful +servant.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“I’ll come too,” said Nancy, “the +place is bound to be topsy-turvy, sir, and a <a +name="page182"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 182</span>gentleman +can’t do aught to straighten it. I’ll come +too.”</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>Davy Jones went too—I suppose because Nancy did; they +seemed great friends now, though previously the young woman had +<a name="page183"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 183</span>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.</p> +<p>As we went up the steep hill from Goodwick, we were joined by +a party of the Fishguard Fencibles, sent to look after the <a +name="page184"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 184</span>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.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a href="images/p184.jpg"> +<img alt= +"Trehowel: General Tate’s Headquarters" +title= +"Trehowel: General Tate’s Headquarters" +src="images/p184.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<p>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 <a name="page185"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 185</span>forward and addressed Mr. Mortimer +with much courtesy—</p> +<p>“Sir, the dogs know you. I presume you are the +master here?”</p> +<p>“I was so once. Down, Gelert! Quiet, +Corgé!”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>I listened with all my ears to this interesting discourse, +which happily I was able to <a name="page186"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 186</span>understand, for General Tate being +an Irishman spoke English perfectly.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“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!”</p> +<p>“Shall I do it for you, Nancy?” suggested Davy, +ready to hobble out of the cart.</p> +<p><a name="page187"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +187</span>“No, he is not worth it. Let him go to gaol +with his friends,” said Nancy, scornfully.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“It was your own fault,” he said, sullenly, +“you drove me away from here, you drove me to the +bad.”</p> +<p>“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?”</p> +<p>“You needn’t pretend to be so particular, +you’ve taken up with a smuggler yourself,” growled +James.</p> +<p><a name="page188"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +188</span>Nancy’s face flamed, but she took a step nearer +to Davy and placed her hand in his defiantly.</p> +<p>“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.’”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>The kindly dusk hid much of the damage that had been done; and +after three days’ <a name="page189"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 189</span>absence, at the same hour as when +she had quitted it, Nancy George was restored to the sovereignty +of the kitchen at Trehowel.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<h2><a name="page191"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +191</span>SEQUEL.<br /> +<i>THE GOLDEN PRISON AT PEMBROKE</i>.</h2> +<h3><a name="page193"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +193</span>CHAPTER XI.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THE GENERAL THANKSGIVING.</span></h3> +<p>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 <a +name="page194"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 194</span>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.</p> +<p>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 <a +name="page195"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 195</span>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.</p> +<p>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. <a name="page196"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +196</span>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.</p> +<p>“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—.”</p> +<p>“To arm me?” said Davy, with a wink. +“That’s it, my boy. What’s the old women +to me? But Nancy—.”</p> +<p>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 name="page197"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 197</span>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>The door burst open, and the express <a +name="page198"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 198</span>messenger +rushed in, booted, spurred, and breathless.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p><a name="page199"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 199</span>In an +instant the cry rang through the church—“To arms! to +arms!”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Don’t go, don’t go, my son,” sobbed +my mother; but curiosity overcame prudence.</p> +<p>“I’m not going to fight, mother, never fear, but I +must go and look on,” was my answer.</p> +<p>“Oh Dio, not again, not again!” urged Nancy, +thinking of the single combats.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“All right, come. I’m coming too,” she +said, and in another instant they were without the church door, +where, indeed, we all <a name="page200"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 200</span>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.</p> +<p>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 <a +name="page201"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 201</span>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.”</p> +<p>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 <i>Britannia</i>, had <a +name="page202"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 202</span>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.</p> +<p>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 “<i>The +Fishguard</i>.”</p> +<p>The remaining frigate, accompanied by <a +name="page203"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 203</span>the lugger, +got safely into Brest, where no doubt they were exceedingly +relieved to find themselves after their disastrous +expedition.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<h3><a name="page204"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +204</span>CHAPTER XII.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">INSIDE THE GOLDEN PRISON.</span></h3> +<p>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 <a name="page205"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 205</span>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.</p> +<p>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 <a name="page206"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +206</span>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.</p> +<p>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 <a name="page207"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 207</span>not by any means a repulsive object, +being a remarkably pretty young woman, as like Nellie as two peas +are like each other.</p> +<p>“Is’t thee, Fan?” asked Nellie. +“Where be feyther?” Then, remembering her +manners, she added, “My sister Frances, Master +Dan’l.”</p> +<p>Frances and I were speedily friends, in fact, the young woman +saw too many strangers to be troubled by shyness.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>I quite assented to this proposition, but remarked that I +hoped the turnkey would not make any mistake about us.</p> +<p>“No fear,” said Frances, “I was born here +and knows the ways on it.”</p> +<p><a name="page208"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +208</span>“What’s that straw for, Frances?” I +asked, for I loved to acquire information.</p> +<p>“For the Frenchers to make hats of. I brings them +this much most days,” she answered, looking down on her big +bundle.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“I’d liefer car’ it myself, thanking you the +same. It’s no heft at all, and maybe ye’d shed +it about.”</p> +<p>“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!”</p> +<p>Frances threw the corner of her apron over the bundle in a +very pettish manner, and to <a name="page209"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 209</span>my great surprise grew as red as a +poppy. What was there to blush about in a bone? Nell +struck in hurriedly—</p> +<p>“Yes, of course it’s a bone, Dan. And what +could they make their buttons and ivory boxes out of but +bone?”</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“Then don’t go for to ax silly questions,” +retorted Nell. “Can us go in, Roche?”</p> +<p>“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?” <a +name="citation209"></a><a href="#footnote209" +class="citation">[209]</a></p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>I did not feel grateful to my young friend <a +name="page210"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 210</span>for this +suggestion, which, however, was probably dictated by the wiliness +of woman.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>This he seemed to consider a first-class joke, for he guffawed +till we were out of hearing.</p> +<p>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—<i>all</i> talking. Yes, even the singing +ones <a name="page211"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +211</span>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.</p> +<p>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!”</p> +<p>“They say you’re angels out of the ceiling. +What on earth do they mean?” I inquired.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p><a name="page212"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 212</span>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.</p> +<p>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, <a name="page213"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +213</span>ships, dolls, windmills, and many other objects of +delight to childhood.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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.”</p> +<p><a name="page214"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 214</span>As +Fanny sheered off I followed.</p> +<p>“Can’t I come into the voisin chamber?” I +asked, not knowing the meaning of the word, “and see +Mounseer the Commissary?”</p> +<p>Fan looked at me in a startled way, but Nell interposed +hastily—</p> +<p>“Let him come, he’s main quick and might help; +he’s not a cursed boy.”</p> +<p>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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Hallo!” I cried, “what d’you let that +common fellow kiss your hand for?”</p> +<p>“He isn’t a common fellow—he’s an <a +name="page215"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +215</span>engineer!” cried Nell, angrily, “and +you’re nothing but a dull young boy not to know a gentleman +when you sees one!</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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 <a name="page216"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 216</span>stupid, and turned to look for Fanny +and her friend, another grimy individual, who proved to be the +commissary himself.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Who ze plague is zis garçon?” asked the +commissary.</p> +<p>“Oh, a young boy from down town—veal, +savez-vous? Nong mauvais—a smart young chap +obligant. Can portey kelke chose, vous savez.”</p> +<p>“Bon!” said the Frenchman, letting the word fly +out like a shot, “we af some drifles to make car out of +zis.”</p> +<p>I perceived at once that he had acquired his knowledge of +English from Frances, as “car” for +“carry” is pure Pembrokeshire.</p> +<p><a name="page217"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +217</span>“I shall be very glad to be of use,” I +remarked. “What sort of things, +Frances—gimcracks, I suppose?”</p> +<p>“Vat says he, là?” inquired the +commissary.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>“All right,” said I.</p> +<p>“Zey is kep’ in ze bockat,” remarked +Mounseer, luckily indicating some pails in the corner by a +gesture of his hand.</p> +<p>“Adoo, Pierre, I think we’d better alley,” +remarked Fan. This, I must say, was the sort of French I +liked.</p> +<p>“To nex’ time, my cabbage!” said Pierre.</p> +<p>Then while they were busy over the buckets I turned suddenly +and beheld the engineer bestowing on Nellie an unmistakable +kiss.</p> +<p><a name="page218"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +218</span>“Hallo!” I said.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Just feel the heft of un!” remarked Fanny.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“What’s all that?” I inquired, as we made +our way out of the prison.</p> +<p>“Dirty clothes,” said Frances, sharply. +“They must have some clean linen, I suppose, though they +are Frenchmen!”</p> +<p>It seemed to me that they managed to <a +name="page219"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 219</span>exist +without it, but as the point was not material, and Frances +appeared touchy, I held my tongue.</p> +<p>“This young boy has giv’ a hand with the +sweepings, Roche,” said Frances, as we passed that +functionary.</p> +<p>“Ay? Well, you and Nell be pretty well weighted +too, surely,” drawled Roche.</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>“Oh, poor chaps; how good it is!” said Nellie, +drawing a long breath.</p> +<p>We went round to a piece of untidy waste land behind the +prison.</p> +<p>“I’ll be bound your arms aches,” said +Frances. “Drop the buckats, Dan’l, and thank +ye.”</p> +<p>“Here!” said I, “drop your gimcracks on this +dirty place—what for?”</p> +<p><a name="page220"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +220</span>“Oh, never mind what for; don’t argufy, my +boy, them’s prison sweepings; the gimcracks is in +Nellie’s pail.”</p> +<p>“Oh, I thought these were mighty heavy gimcracks. +Well, let me carry Nell’s pail to the shop.”</p> +<p>“No, no!” cried Nell, stepping back, +“I’d liefer car my own, don’t you +trouble.”</p> +<p>“Then I’ll take your dirty linen,” said I, +making a sudden grab at Frances’ bundle.</p> +<p>To my great surprise some bits of stone and a cloud of mortar +flew out.</p> +<p>“Hallo!” I said.</p> +<p>“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.”</p> +<p>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 <a +name="page221"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 221</span>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>However, neither flattery nor a curiosity stimulus were +unpleasing to me, so I went frequently.</p> +<h3><a name="page222"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +222</span>CHAPTER XIII.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">AWAY! AWAY!</span></h3> +<p>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!”</p> +<p>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 +<a name="page223"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 223</span>on a +garment or two, and flung open my little lattice window.</p> +<p>“Where are the French?” I yelled.</p> +<p>“Away, away!” came the answer. “Clean +gone.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>“Where’s Eleanor?” she gasped.</p> +<p>“Where are the French?” I answered lightly, +“Away, away!”</p> +<p>“Are ye cursëd, boy, or only dull?” <a +name="citation223"></a><a href="#footnote223" +class="citation">[223]</a> queried my angry relative. +“What d’ye mean?”</p> +<p>“Nothing,” I answered; “only I know no more +about Nell than I do about the French. Isn’t she in +the shop?”</p> +<p><a name="page224"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +224</span>“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.”</p> +<p>“Nellie really gone!” I was beginning to grasp the +situation. “Oh, Aunt Jane; she must have gone with +Jack.”</p> +<p>“Who’s Jack, name o’ fortune? I heard +tell of a Billy and a Tommy, but norra Jack.”</p> +<p>“Oh, this wasn’t a Pembroke Jack, but Mounseer +Jacques Roux, Esq., an engineer.”</p> +<p>“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.</p> +<p>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 <a name="page225"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 225</span>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.</p> +<p>“Arrest that young chap there,” he ordered his +assistants. “He was a helping o’ they sneaking +scoundrels; I see un.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p><a name="page226"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 226</span>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.”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p><a name="page227"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 227</span>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.</p> +<p>“I hear Frances Martin has absconded,” he +said. “Can you tell me anything about Eleanor? +She lives with your aunts, I think.”</p> +<p>“She is not to be found, sir,” I answered. +“She is off with Jack, no doubt.”</p> +<p>“Jack?”</p> +<p>“Mounseer Jacques Roux, the engineer.”</p> +<p>“Ah, the fellow who managed the tunnelling. Why do +you pitch upon him?”</p> +<p>“I didn’t—she did, because he used to kiss +her.”</p> +<p>“Kiss! By George, didn’t that rouse your +suspicions?” cried the doctor.</p> +<p>“No, sir, they said it was the French way of shaking +hands.”</p> +<p>“Go along, softy!” cried the crowd, and I <a +name="page228"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 228</span>went. +But as I went I heard the stentorian voice of Dr. Mansell +proclaim—</p> +<p>“Five hundred guineas reward for the recovery of those +two young women, dead or alive!”</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>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 <a name="page229"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 229</span>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.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p><a name="page230"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 230</span>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 <a name="page231"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +231</span>women, but between darkness and surprise it was a +wonder they had noted as much as they had.</p> +<p>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 <a +name="page232"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 232</span>were +probably little skilled in navigation. So I departed to St. +David’s with a heavy heart.</p> +<p>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.</p> +<p>I opened the letter and perceived it was in English. It +ran as follows:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“<span class="smcap">Dear Mastr +Danl</span>,—I hope as this finds you well as it leaves me +at present. <a name="page233"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +233</span>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 <a +name="page234"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 234</span>we wasnt +clemmed. We let the yat go. Hoping to see you soon, I +remains,</p> +<p style="text-align: right">“Your humbel servant to +command,<br /> +“<span class="smcap">Nellie</span>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>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.</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center">The Gresham Press.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">UNWIN +BROTHERS,</span><br /> +<span class="GutSmall">CHILWORTH AND LONDON.</span></p> +<h2>NOTES.</h2> +<p><a name="footnote14"></a><a href="#citation14" +class="footnote">[14]</a> Laws, “Little England +beyond Wales.”</p> +<p><a name="footnote18"></a><a href="#citation18" +class="footnote">[18]</a> These letters are given in the +narrative.</p> +<p><a name="footnote26"></a><a href="#citation26" +class="footnote">[26]</a> “Biographie de Lazare +Hoche,” par Emile de Bonnechose. Hachette, Paris.</p> +<p><a name="footnote36"></a><a href="#citation36" +class="footnote">[36]</a> Laws, “Little England +beyond Wales.” Mason, Tenby.</p> +<p><a name="footnote51"></a><a href="#citation51" +class="footnote">[51]</a> Cawl—leek broth.</p> +<p><a name="footnote52"></a><a href="#citation52" +class="footnote">[52]</a> Cwrw da—good ale.</p> +<p><a name="footnote80"></a><a href="#citation80" +class="footnote">[80]</a> “Taws pia hi,” a +Welsh proverb.</p> +<p><a name="footnote115"></a><a href="#citation115" +class="footnote">[115]</a> Dear Davy.</p> +<p><a name="footnote129"></a><a href="#citation129" +class="footnote">[129]</a> A fact.</p> +<p><a name="footnote154"></a><a href="#citation154" +class="footnote">[154]</a> Now in the possession of Mr. +Brett, the well-known artist.—<span +class="smcap">Editor’s Note</span>.</p> +<p><a name="footnote209"></a><a href="#citation209" +class="footnote">[209]</a> <i>Crut</i>, probably a +contraction of <i>creature</i>.</p> +<p><a name="footnote223"></a><a href="#citation223" +class="footnote">[223]</a> <i>Dull</i>, stupid.</p> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FISHGUARD INVASION BY THE FRENCH +IN 1797***</p> +<pre> + + +***** This file should be named 41144-h.htm or 41144-h.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. 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