The Freebooters: A Story of the Texan War

The Captain quickly opened his telescope, and fixed it on the Mexican ship.

"It is true," he said, a moment later. "Oh, oh! Can our audacious attempt have proved successful?"

"All leads to the supposition," said the hunter, with his old stoicism.

"By Heavens! I will ascertain."

"What will you do?"

"By Jupiter! Convince myself of what is taking place."

"As you please."

"Bear up!" the Captain ordered.

The manoeuvre was executed. The sheets were let go, and the brig, catching more wind in its sails, advanced rapidly toward the corvette, on board which a strange scene was taking place at this moment, which must interest Captain Johnson in the highest degree. But, in order to make the reader thoroughly understand this scene, we must now return to El Alferez and his comrades, whom we left at their departure from the pulqueria.

At the moment when the four men reached the jetty, although it was about seven in the morning, the beach was nearly deserted; only a few ships' boats were fastened up, and landing the men who were going to buy provisions. It was, therefore, an easy matter for the conspirators to, embark without attracting attention to their movements. At a signal given by Ramirez, the boat which had been pulling back and forwards during the night, came nearer land, and when the four men were seated in the stern sheets, and Ramirez had taken the tiller, the boat started for a small creek situated a little distance beyond the roadstead.

The breeze, which during the night had been rather weak, had gradually risen; the boat was easily got out to sea, sail was hoisted, and it soon entered the creek, where the Libertad was riding gently on her anchors. Still, it was easy for a sailor to see that this ship, apparently so quiet, was ready to slip out at a moment's notice. The sails, though furled, were cast off, and the anchor, apeak, only needed a turn of the capstan to be tripped. Posted craftily in this creek, like a bird of prey in the hollow of a rock, the corvette could easily expand its sails, and dart on any suspicious vessel signalled by the lookout. Without uttering a syllable our friends exchanged a significant glance; they understood one another's manoeuvring.

The boat had scarce come within hail ere a sentry, standing in the starboard gangway, hailed it in Spanish. Ramirez replied, and, leaning on the tiller, made the boat describe a graceful curve, and brought her up to the starboard accommodation ladder. The officer of the watch was standing at the top to receive the visitors. On perceiving a lady, he hurried down the ladder to offer his hand, and do her the honours of the ship she was about to enter.

To the right and left of the entrance, sailors, drawn up in file, saluted by raising their hands to their caps, while a boatswain gave the accustomed whistle. As we have already mentioned, the Libertad was a first class corvette. Don Manuel Rodriguez, her commandant, was an old sailor, brought up in the Spanish Navy, and had retained its healthy traditions: hence, his ship was kept with great care and coquettishness. Don Serapio and Don Cristoval, themselves naval officers, could not refrain from expressing to the officer of the watch the satisfaction they experienced at seeing a vessel in such splendid order.

Commandant Rodriguez, called by a midshipman, hastened on deck to receive his guests; the boat was fastened astern of the corvette, while its crew went forward with the sailors of the vessel.

Like the other Spanish American Republics, the Mexican Confederation has but few vessels; its navy is composed of but a dozen ships at the most – consisting of corvettes, brigs, and schooners. The gravity of the events taking place in Texas had induced the Mexican Government to send a corvette there, in order to render themselves masters of the sea, and prevent the United States, whose sympathies with the Texan Revolution were notorious, from giving the insurgents help in arms, men, or money.

Commandant Rodriguez, an energetic man, and excellent sailor, had been chosen to carry out this dangerous mission; for two months he had been cruising off the coast of Texas, where he had established a rigorous blockade, and owing to his intelligent arrangements, he had managed, up to the period we have arrived at, to stop or turn back all vessels sent from the United States to the help of the insurgents. The latter, reduced to their own resources, and understanding that the decisive hour would soon strike for them, had resolved to get rid of this corvette, which did them enormous injury, and seize it at all risks.

The Chiefs of the insurgents had formed their plans to this effect. During Commandant Rodriguez's rare visits to Galveston, he was adroitly surrounded by persons who ostensibly professed a deep hatred for the revolution, while in secret they were the active and devoted agents of the insurgent Chiefs. Almost involuntarily the Commandant had been induced to invite several persons to visit his corvette, and breakfast on board; but the old sailor was a true Mexican, that is to say, accustomed to all the tricks and treachery of a country where revolutions have been counted by hundreds during the twenty years since it proclaimed its so-called independence, and his prudence did not fail him under the circumstances. Being not at all anxious to run the risk of seeing his ship boarded, he left the roads, and anchored in a solitary creek, in order to have his elbows at liberty; and then, instead of inviting many persons at the same time, he merely requested Doña Mencia, her father, and two of her cousins, officers in the United States' service, to pay him a visit. We know now who the persons really were who accepted the invitation.

The Captain frowned on seeing the number of the boat's crew; but, reflecting that he had two hundred and fifty men aboard, he did not think for a moment that sixteen men, apparently unarmed, would try to seize his ship, and it was with the most smiling and affectionate air that he received Doña Mencia and the persons who accompanied her.

After showing them all over the corvette, he led his guests to the stern gallery, where a table had been laid, and a magnificent breakfast awaited them. Only five persons sat down, the supposed young lady, her pretended cousins, the commandant, and his first lieutenant, an old sailor like himself, full of experience and bravery. The breakfast began in the most cordial and frank manner; the Commandant regretted that Doña Mencia's father had been unable to accompany her, as he had promised, and a most gallant conversation went on. Presently, a warrant officer opened the door, and, at a sign from the Commandant, whispered a few words in his ear; the latter, after excusing himself to his guests, gave him an order in a low voice, and the officer retired as discreetly as he had come in.

"Señora," the Commandant said, leaning over to the young lady seated by his side; "are you afraid of the sea?"

"I?" she replied with a smile, "Why do you ask, Commandant?"

"Because," he answered, "unless you immediately leave my vessel, which, I confess, would greatly annoy me, you will be compelled to take a trip to sea for some hours."

"I am the daughter and cousin of sailors, Commandant; that is as good as saying that a trip to sea would be most pleasing to me under any circumstances; at this moment it would be a delightful interlude, and complete the graceful hospitality you have been kind to offer us."

"Very good," the Commandant said gaily; "you are a true heroine, Doña Mencia; you fear nothing."

"Or, at any rate, very little," she replied with an emphasis which escaped the notice of the Commandant.

"Will you permit me to ask, Commandant," said Don Serapio, "whether you are starting simply to afford us the pleasure of a trip, or whether a more serious motive obliges you to leave your anchorage?"

"I have no secrets from you," he said simply, "and a few words will explain the affair; for about a fortnight I have been playing a game of chess with a brig, whose appearance is most suspicious. Its rig, and fine lines, lead us to believe that it is a North-American privateer, trying to land arms, and possibly men, for the insurgents."

"Do you imagine," Don Cristoval objected, "that a privateer brig, knowing you to be in these parts, would venture to force a passage?"

"Yes, I do. These demons of privateers are afraid of nothing; and, besides, during the war of independence, I myself carried out more daring adventures than this."

"Then, we are about to witness a sea fight?" Doña Mencia asked timidly.

"Oh, do not feel alarmed, Señorita; it will not go so far as that, I hope; this brig, which I had lost out of sight for two days, has just reappeared, but this time with the apparent object of getting close enough to land to send a boat ashore. I will chase it vigorously, and do not doubt I shall compel it to put out to sea again, for it is impossible that it should attempt seriously to oppose us."

"Really, that is delightful!" Doña Mencia exclaimed with a laugh; "the fête will be complete: a trip to sea, a chase, and, perhaps, the capture of a vessel. You are really too kind, Commandant."

While the conversation became more and more friendly and lively in the state cabin, the corvette had started, and with all sail set, was pursuing Captain Johnson's brig.

"Halloh!" Don Cristoval suddenly asked, "What has become of our boat?"

"It was left fastened to a buoy," the Commandant said; "we will pick it up again when we return to our anchorage."

"Well," Don Serapio remarked laughingly, "if the privateer should feel inclined to fight, our sixteen men are quite at your disposal."

"I thank you, but do not think I shall requite their assistance."

"Who knows? No one can foresee events. Our sailors are brave, and, if it should come to fighting, be assured they will do their share."

Only one of the guests had remained silent during the breakfast, contenting himself with eating and drinking; while attentively listening to what was said around him. This guest was the lieutenant. So soon as the ship had started, he left the table, bowed to the company, and went on deck.

"Your lieutenant is no talker, Commandant," Doña Mencia observed; "he only opened his lips to eat and drink."

"That is true, Señorita; but pray excuse him, he is an old sailor, but little accustomed to society – he felt embarrassed and almost in his wrong place with you; but few men know their profession so well as he, or are so firm and intrepid in danger."

At this moment a loud detonation made the vessel quiver. "Ah!" said Doña Mencia with a cry of terror, "What does that mean?"

"Less than nothing, Señorita; we have merely hoisted our flag, and fired a blank shot, to oblige the brig to show her colours."

"Would there be any danger in going on deck?" Doña Mencia asked with curiosity.

"Not the least."

"In that case, with your permission, we will go up and see what is happening."

"I am at your orders, Señorita."

The breakfast was over; they left the table and went up on the quarterdeck. The ship offered to the sight of persons unacquainted with naval affairs, a most singular and attractive appearance. The powerful breeze had bellied the sails; the corvette bounded over the waves like a gazelle, but did not take in a drop of water over the catheads. On deck, the crew were standing silent and motionless by the standing rigging, the gunners at their pieces, and the topmen at their posts. On the forecastle Ramirez and his sixteen men were collected near the head, apparently indifferent, but actually watching the movements of the Mexican. At about a gunshot and a half distant, the brig could be seen, from whose peak haughtily floated a large American flag.

"I suspected it," said the Commandant, "it is a privateer, and has hoisted American colours to deceive us, but we are on our guard."

"Do you think, then, that ship is not American?" Don Serapio asked.

"No more than you are; it is an Argentine, or Brazilian privateer."

"Still, it appears American built,"

"That proves nothing; our ships, bought in different countries, have nothing that causes them to be recognized, for we have no docks."

"That is true; but look, she is going to tack."

"Yes, the sails are beginning to shiver."

The Mexicans fancied themselves so secure from an attack, that most of the crew had left their quarters to follow the manoeuvres of the brig; the sailors, perched on the yards, or leaning out of the ports, were curiously looking on, without dreaming of the danger such a breach of discipline might entail. In the meanwhile the brig came round, as Don Serapio had said. Suddenly, at the moment when it completed the manoeuvre, a detonation was heard, a shrill whistle cut through the air, and the corvette's bowsprit, pierced by a ball, fell into the sea, dragging with it the foremast.

This produced an extraordinary pause and confusion on board the corvette; the terrified sailors ran about in all directions, listening to nothing. At length the Commandant succeeded in overcoming the tumult; the crew recognized his voice, and at the order to fire, fifteen guns thundered at once, in reply to the unjustifiable aggression of the privateer.

CHAPTER XX.

THE PRIZE

The damage sustained by the corvette was serious; the bowsprit is the key of the ship's rigging, its loss entailed that of the foremast, which the main-topmast, no longer stayed, speedily followed. The utmost disorder prevailed on board, when, as nearly always happens under such circumstances, the crew had suddenly passed from blind confidence to profound terror.

The deck was encumbered with fragments of every description, yards, spars, sails, stunsail-booms, and entangled rigging, in the midst of which the sailors ran about distractedly, abandoning their posts, deaf to the exhortations equally with the menaces of their officers, and having only one thought: to escape from the death they believed suspended over their heads.

Still, the officers did not at all conceal from themselves the gravity of their position, which the brig's manoeuvres rendered more complicated, and momentarily more precarious; they did all in their power, therefore, to restore a little courage to all these individuals, whom terror blinded, and induce them to sell their lives dearly.

A fresh incident occurred suddenly, which rendered the situation of the ship, if possible, more critical and desperate. Commandant Rodriguez had not left the quarterdeck; motionless at his post during the events we have described, he had continued to give his orders in a firm voice, apparently not noticing the symptoms of insubordination which, since the catastrophe had happened, were manifest amongst the crew. With pale face, frowning brow, and clenched teeth, the old sailor mechanically played with the hilt of his sword, taking every now and then a cold and resolute glance around him, while exerting his officers to redouble their efforts to do their duty bravely.

Doña Mencia and the two supposititious officers of the American navy were standing silent and attentive by his side, probably awaiting the moment for action. At the tumult which suddenly broke out on the forecastle, they all three started and drew nearer to the commandant When the brig had so skilfully carried away the bowsprit of the Libertad, Ramirez and his sailors were the first to sow and propagate terror among the crew by uttering cries of terror; and running in all directions. Their example was promptly followed. Then they changed their tactics, and began openly accusing the commandant by asserting that he was a traitor, who wished to ruin them, and surrender the corvette to the insurgents.

There is nothing, however stupid it may be, a thinker has said, which people may not be led to believe by a certain mode of treating them. This remark is strictly true, and this time again received perfect application. The sailors of the Libertad forgot in an instant all they owed to the Commandant, whose constant solicitude watched over them with paternal care, for they were urged on and excited by the perfidious insinuations of Ramirez and his comrades. The courage they lacked to defend themselves and do their duty as men of honour, they found again to accuse their chief of treachery, and seizing any arms they came across, they rushed tumultuously toward the quarterdeck, uttering menaces and cries of revolt.

The officers, justly alarmed, and not knowing what means to employ to bring these men back to their duty, collected round their Commandant, resolved to save themselves or perish with him. The old sailor was still apparently just as calm and stoical; nothing revealed on his stern face the agony that secretly crushed his heart. With his arms folded on his chest, his head erect, and a steady glance, he awaited the mutineers.

The latter soon invaded the after part of the vessel; but, after passing the mainmast, they stopped, through a remnant of that respect which is innate in sailors for their superiors. The quarterdeck is that portion of the deck which is exclusively reserved for the officers: the sailors, under no consideration, are allowed to tread it, except for the purpose of executing a manoeuvre.

On reaching the foot of the mainmast, then, the mutineers hesitated, for they no longer felt on their own ground, and at length stopped: for the mere fact of their invading this part of the deck constituted a grave infraction of naval discipline. We have said that they stopped; but they were like an angry sea which breaks against the foot of a dyke it cannot dash over; that is to say, yelling and gesticulating furiously, but yet without going an inch further. At the same time, however, they did not fall back.

But this hesitation and almost timid attitude of the mutineers did not at all suit the views of those who had urged them to insubordination. Collected in the rear of the sailors, they shouted and gesticulated louder than the rest, trying by all means to revive the fire which was already threatening to expire. The corvette's deck presented at this moment the most desolating, and yet at the same time imposing appearance. In the midst of the fragments piled up pell-mell on this fine ship so fatally decapitated by canister shot, these men, with their rude and fierce features, grouped in disorderly and menacing groups; and, scarce a few yards from them, a small band of calm and resolute officers, collected round the Commandant, who, standing on the quarterdeck, seemed to dominate over the men. Then, a little in the rear, Doña Mencia and the two American officers, apparently disinterested spectators of the events which chance compelled them to witness, but, in reality, following with anxious glance all the incidents of the drama that was being played before them. Assuredly a painter would have found a magnificent subject for a picture in the position of the different characters, and the expression that at times lit up their masculine faces.

And then, in the distance the lofty sails of the brig could be seen glistening, which was rapidly approaching, doubtless with the intention of coming, like the classic Deus ex machina, to unravel at the right time this situation, which every passing moment only tended to render the more complicated.

There was a momentary truce between the two parties, who, like practised duellists, had tried to discover their adversary's vulnerable point before crossing swords. A deep silence prevailed on the deck of this ship, where so many passions were fermenting in these hearts of bronze; no other sound was audible save the hollow and monotonous moaning of the sea, as it broke against the sides of the corvette, and the indistinct sound of weapons clutched by eager hands.

This hesitation had something sinister and startling about it, and the Commandant resolved to put an end to it at all hazards. He understood that he was the only person who could make an appeal to these misguided men, who might possibly not remain dumb to the voice of duty speaking through the lips of a man, whose noble character they had enjoyed many opportunities of appreciating, and whom they had been so long accustomed to respect and love.

Commandant Rodriguez looked slowly and sadly, but yet firmly, round him, and extending his arm in the direction of the brig, which was hugging the wind to be able to run alongside the corvette more easily, he said, in a loud and marked voice —

"My men, here comes the enemy. We have our revenge to take upon him: then why are you not at your quarters? What do you want of me? Are you afraid that I shall fail you when the hour for fighting arrives?"

At this direct and firm appeal a strange quiver ran along the ranks of the mutineers; some of them were even going to reply, when a voice was heard from the rear: "Who tells you that we regard that vessel as an enemy?"

Immediately hurrahs and shouts of joy, mingled with oaths and hisses, burst forth on all sides.

"The man who dares to speak so," the Commandant shouted, in a voice that for a moment quelled the tumult, "is a traitor and a coward. He does not form part of my ship's crew."

An indescribable tumult then broke out. The sailors, forgetting all respect and discipline, rushed toward the quarterdeck with frightful yells and vociferations. The Commandant, not at all disconcerted by this hostile manifestation, seized a pistol, which a faithful sailor handed him, coolly cocked it, and addressing the mutineers, said: "Take care. The first who advances one step further I will blow out his brains."

Some men are gifted with so great a magnetic power, and their influence over the lower classes is so real, that the two to three hundred mutineers, at the sight of this man, who alone withstood and threatened them with a pistol, hesitated, and finally stopped, with a vague movement of alarm. It was evident that this pistol was little to be feared, even under the hypothesis that the Commandant carried out his threat, since it would only kill or wound one man; still, we repeat, all these men stopped, surprised, perhaps terrified, but certainly not able to account for the feelings they experienced. A smile played round the Commandant's lips; he understood that these rough and rebellious natures had been subdued. He determined to make sure of his triumph.

"Every man to his quarters," he said; "the topmen will get the ship clear while the carpenters rig up a jury bowsprit."

And leaving the quarterdeck, the Commandant advanced resolutely toward the mutineers. The latter fell back as he advanced, without speaking or gesticulating, but only opposing that final resistance, the most dangerous of all, the force of inertia. It was all over with the mutiny, however; the crew, shaken by the firm and wise conduct of their chief, were on the point of returning to their duty, when an unexpected incident completely changed the aspect of affairs, and put the officers once more in the critical position from which the Commandant had extricated them with such ease.

We have said that Doña Mencia and her two companions attentively followed the incidents of this scene, in readiness to interfere, when the moment arrived. Commandant Rodriguez had scarcely left the quarterdeck ere the young woman, or young man, whichever it may please the reader to call this mysterious being, rushed forward, and seizing a telescope, fixed it on the brig, as if to feel certain of the privateer's position, and be assured of support if required. The brig was now only two cables' lengths from the corvette, and within a few minutes would be within hail.

Suddenly Doña Mencia, throwing off her feminine character, hurriedly tore off the dress that covered her, removed her bonnet, and appeared in the masculine attire El Alferez had worn at the pulqueria. This transformation had been so rapid that the officers and crew had not recovered front the astonishment this strange metamorphosis caused them, when the young man, drawing a pistol from his belt, cocked and pointed it at a number of cartridges the boys had brought on deck when the Captain beat to quarters, and which they had left lying pell-mell at the foot of the mizzenmast during the disorder that followed the fall of the spars.

"Surrender!" El Alferez shouted in a thundering voice; "Surrender, or you are dead men!"

Don Cristoval and Don Serapio were standing on the right and left of the young man, holding a pistol in either hand. Ramirez, for his part, had lost no time; by his care two of the bow carronades had been dragged from their ports and trailed on the stern, and two sailors, match in hand, were standing motionless by them, only awaiting the signal to fire. Ramirez and the fourteen men left him were aiming at the Mexican sailors. The crew was taken between two fires; two hundred and fifty men were at the mercy of twenty. The position was desperate, and the Commandant had not even the resource of falling honourably.