University of Virginia Library

6. CHAPTER VI.

Marboi's History of Louisiana.

FISHERMAN—ILLNESS—CANNONADING—APPROACH THE ISLAND—
[THE OUTLAW'S REPLY TO THE ENGLISH OFFICER.

With the head of his friend and benefactor upon
his lap, and in great agitation of mind, the youth
guided the boat through the bayou, his course lighted
by the lightning, which now became incessant.

“Ho, the boat!” shouted a voice from the bank,
as a flash of lightning showed them the fisherman's
cot, in a bend of the bayou.

“Grand Terre!” replied Théodore.

“Grand Terre it is,” answered the man; who
now came from behind the tree, with an English
musket in his hand, an old canvass cap on his head,
covered with signs of the cross, done in red and
black paint—a blue woollen shirt, and a pair of duck
trowsers, cut off at the knee, leaving the portion of
his legs below it bare. His head was gray and
bushy, and an opulence of grisly beard and whiskers
encircled his tawny face, which was marked
with arched brows and lambent dark eyes—a sharp

aquiline nose, small mouth, and thin lips, displaying
when parted, a row of even and very white
teeth, which seemed to bid defiance to the ravages
of time!

“Where is the Captain?” he inquired.

“Senseless, from a stroke of lightning!” replied
the youth; “we must claim your hospitality, Manuelillo.”

“Pobre capitan! with all my heart. Bring him
into the cot, hombres,” he said to the men. “Pobre
capitan—es mateo—no? Señor Théodore?”

“No! there is life, but he is insensible.”

In a short time, the chief was laid upon the rude
bed of dried grass and rushes, constituting the
couch of the fisherman, who, in addition to his piscal
profession, was also a privateersman or smuggler,
as interest prompted, or taste allured.

Slowly yielding to their exertions and skill, the
stagnant life once more received action, and he returned
to consciousness. In the morning, a fever
succeeded, which increased in violence during the
day. That night he became delirious, and wildly
raved like a maniac—calling on “Constanza,”
“D'Oyley,” “Henri,” “Gertrude,”—names often on
his burning lips, during his illness. For five days,
his fever and delirium continued, without abatement.
His disorder, then assumed a more favourable
character, and he began rapidly to convalesce.

On the seventh day, just before noon, he was
seated at the door of the hut, under the shade of a
tree, which grew in front, giving orders to his boatmen,
who were preparing the barge for departure
that evening, when a heavy cannonading reached
his ears, borne upon the south wind over the level
country, from the quarter of Barritaria, which was
about twenty miles distant.

“Do you hear that, sir?” said Théodore, from

within the hut—who, during his illness, had watched
over him with untiring assiduity and tenderness.

“What means it, Manuel?” demanded the chief,
starting.

“I don't know, señor; there must be some fighting
between your vessels and the cruisers.”

“I suspect as much. Quick, with that boat,
men!” he added, with animation. “We must away
from this.”

With a strength unlooked for, he stepped into the
boat, after grasping warmly the hand of the old
fisherman, and thanking him for his attention and
kindness, and was soon swiftly moving on his way
to the island.

As he approached, the firing increased, and became
more distinct. Night set in before they
reached the mouth of the bayou, from which, as
they emerged into the bay, they could see far over
the water, a flame apparently rising from a burning
vessel. The cannonading had ceased several hours,
and it was now too dark to see across the bay, or
distinguish the outline of the island.

“There has been warm work, Théodore,” said
Lafitte. “I am afraid we have been attacked by
a superior force.”

“It may be Massa Cap'um Pattyson,” said Cudjoe;
“he tinky catch Cudjoe, and make sailor ob
him, when in de boat, when you gone to see de gobernor.”

“What is that?” said Lafitte, quickly. “Press
you?”

“I now recollect,” answered Théodore, “as I
went for the governor's reply, it was rumoured in
the streets, that Commodore Patterson was completing
his crew by every exertion, and that he
was to sail the same evening, on some expedition.
It may have been Barritaria.”

“You are right Théodore, he has attacked our

camp. Set the sail and spring to your oars, men;
we must know at once if our fears are true.”

Having set their sail, their speed increased, and
shooting rapidly away from the mouth of the bayou,
they steered across the bay. They were
within a league of the island, when a barge full of
men, was discovered a short distance ahead.

“Ship your oars; see to your arms, men!” said
Lafitte, shifting the helm so as to weather the boat.
We are now more likely to meet foes than friends
in these waters.”

As he spoke, the strange boat hailed, while the
click of several pistols was heard from her by the
pirate and his party, who answered that hostile preparation
with similar sounds of defiance.

“Ho! the boat ahoy!” hailed a voice in Spanish.

“It is Sebastiano,” said Théodore hastily, as he
recognized the voice of the person hailing.

“Camaradas!” replied Lafitte.

“Ah captain, is that you,” exclaimed a rough
voice with a strong French accent. “We thought
you had gone to pay off old scores in the other
world.”

“I have been on business, Belluche, connected
with our safety, and have been detained by illness.
But the news, the news! Lieutenant Belluche,” he
added with impatience as the boats came in contact.

“Bad enough, my good captain,” said Sebastiano,
interposing in reply, “bad enough for one day's
work, in proof of which, señor, I refer you to this
handful of men, who are all that remain of the
pretty Julié, who by the same token, is burned to
the water's edge. May the grande diable have the
burning of those who compelled me with my own
hand to set her on fire. But it was necessity, captain.
I can prove to you it was necessity.”

“Be brief, Sebastiano! What has happened?

Who are the aggressors, Belluche? What means
the firing I have heard to-day? Be brief and tell
me!”

“This morning,” said the whilom captain of the
Lady of the Gulf, “between eight and nine, we
saw a fleet of small vessels and gun-boats standing
in for the island. Our squadron lay at anchor
within the pass, and on seeing the fleet I ordered
the Carthagenian flag to be hoisted on all the vessels.
As the strangers approached, I got under
weigh with the whole fleet, including prizes, which
made ten in number, and formed in order of battle,
in case the intentions of the fleet should be hostile.
As the evidences of their hostile character thickened,
I sent boats in various directions to the main
land to give the alarm, and ordered my men to light
fires along the coast, as signals to our friends ashore
that we were about to be attacked. The enemy
stood in, and formed into a line of battle near the
entrance of the harbour. Their force consisted of
six gun-vessels, a tender, mounting one six pounder
and full of men, and a launch, mounting one twelve
pound carronade, and a large schooner, called the
Carolina.

“On discovering these demonstrations of battle on
their part, and not being in the best condition to
withstand them, I hoisted a white flag at the fore
on board the Lady of the Gulf, an American flag at
the mainmast, and the Carthagenian flag, at the topping
lift. The enemy replied, with a white flag at
his main. I now took my boat, and went from vessel
to vessel to ascertain the disposition of the crews
for fighting, and none but Captain Getzendanner,
and Sebastiano and their men were for awaiting the
attack. I in vain tried to convince them of the expediency
of fighting to save our vessels.

“I then determined that the Lady of the Gulf
should not fall into the enemy's hands, and telling

Captain Getzendanner what I intended to do, I returned
on board, and fixing a train in the hole, and
setting the rigging on fire, I took to the boats with
my crew. Getzendanner and Sebastiano did the
same, while the other cowardly paltroons deserted
their vessels and took to their oars, and pulled for
the main land. The enemy no sooner saw the
flame rising from the schooner, than he hauled down
the flag of truce, and made the signal for battle;
hoisting with it a broad white flag bearing the words,
`PARDON TO DESERTERS,' knowing that we had not
a few from the army and navy, among our villainous,
cowardly, runaway gang.

“The enemy run in and took possession of the
vessels, while a detachment landed upon the island,
and destroyed our buildings and fortifications. All
this I witnessed from the main land, where we had
retired. The enemy's fleet is now outside, including
our own, numbering in all seventeen sail.
They will probably get under weigh in the morning
for the Balize.”

“We,” concluded Sebastiano, who had waited
with much impatience for an opportunity to speak,
“have just returned from the island, where I have
been since they left, to have occular demonstration
of the true state of things, and an old woman might
as well hold good her pantry against a party of
half-starved recruits, as we could have held the old
island; and this admits of the clearest demonstration,
captain.”

Lafitte listened to this recital in silence; nor did
he speak for some moments after the commander
of the Lady of the Gulf had completed his account
of the attack upon the piratical hold, by the American
flotilla. This expedition was under the command
of that naval officer, whom we first introduced
to the reader, looking over a map with the commanding
general at his head quarters, a young and

gallant man, whose ambition to signalize his command
and benefit his country by the destruction of
the buccaneering horde, who had so long infested
the south-western shores of Louisiana, had rendered
him, with the majority of the council called by the
governor, incredulous to the extraordinary proffers
of the pirate.

If blame in reference to this decision could be
attached to either party, Lafitte felt that it was
justly fastened upon himself.

“It is right,” he said, after reflecting for a
few moments upon the communication of his officer.
“It is but just—not them—not him—do I
censure, but myself—my past career of crime and
contempt of those healthy laws which govern
society. I blame them not. It would be stranger if
they should have believed me.” After a few moments
pause he added earnestly, “this shall not
change me; they shall yet know and believe, that
I acted from motives they must honour. They
shall learn that they have injured me by their decisions.
Injured! But let it pass—my country shall
have my arm and single cutlass, if no more! and
your's too, my boy?” he said to Théodore.

“Wherever you are, my benefactor, you will
find me by your side,” exclaimed the youth warmly.

“I knew it Théodore, I knew it,” replied Lafitte,
returning the enthusiastic grasp of his hand.

“Where, away now Belluche?”

“To the city, captain! We hear of fighting about
to go on there; we may perhaps find something to
do.”

“Sebastiano, Belluche, my worthy comrades and
friends, and you my brave men all! the Americans
have destroyed our fleet; but they have done only
justice. If I know all of you who are in that boat,
like myself, you are Americans by birth or adoption.
Fight not against your country, draw every cutlass in

her defence; forgive her injuries, and fight for her.
The tyrant of England seeks to enslave her; meet
him foot to foot, blade to blade. Endeavour to atone
for your wrongs to your country by devotion to her
cause. Fighting is your trade—but fight now on
the right side. What say you my men? Sebastiano,
stand you for or against your country, in this struggle?”

“Viva Louisiana—viva la patria—viva Lafitte!”
shouted the men.

“That is as it should be my brave fellows, if you
are faithful in the cause you espouse you may yet
get government to wink at the past, and if any of you
choose to follow honest livelihoods, the way will
then be open before you. To the city, I will soon
follow, gather all our scattered force and persuade
them to adopt the same course. You will hear of
me on the third evening from this at the cabaret of
Pedro Torrio, on Rue Royale. I must now visit
the island. Where is Getzendanner?”

“He has taken the western bayou to the city, I
suspect,” replied Belluche,

“Tell him our plans if you meet with him, and
hold out to him pardon. He will acquiesce, I think,”
he said laughing, “for there is a fair frow in New
York, he would fain supply his lost rib with; but
she wont take him without a license from the President.
I depend on you both,” he added more seriously
“to collect our followers and unite them to
the American party.”

With a shout from the crews of each, the boats
separated, and in an hour afterward, Lafitte reached
the island and secured his boat in the narrow cove or
inlet from which he had unmoored it, under very different
circumstances, ten days before, on embarking
to lay before the governor the letters of the
British officers.

The next morning the chief who had remained

all night in the boat, was awakened by a gun, which
on rising, and gaining a slight elevation on the
island, he discovered to be the signal for the enemy's
fleet, with his prizes, to get under weigh.

With calm and unchanging features, he watched
their departure, and as the last sail disappeared on
the horizon, he said turning to Théodore,

“I have only to wait to give the Englishman his
answer,” he said with a bitter smile, “and then return
to New Orleans, and there welcome my captured
fleet.”

“There is a sail south of us,” exclaimed Theodore.

“I see it,” replied the chief, “it may be the
English brig coming in for my reply, although I did
not expect her before evening.” The vessel which
attracted their observation, in the course of an hour
showed the square rig and armament of a brig of
war. Approaching within half a mile of the island,
she put off a boat, which pulled directly for the island.

“What answer shall you give them now, monsieur'?”
inquired Théodore doubtfully, watching the
face of the outlaw, and anxious to know if he would
accept the proposals of the British, now that he
had received such treatment from the American
government.

Lafitte made no reply but hastened to meet the
boat, which grounded, as Théodore spoke, upon the
beach.

“You are welcome to my fortress, gentlemen!
you have no doubt come for my answer,” he said
addressing the midshipman who commanded the
boat. “So your captain did not like to trust himself
on shore again. Well,” he added in a melancholy
voice, “he might have come now in all safety
—he would have little to fear. What says captain
Lockyer?”

“He desired me to give you this sealed paper,
and await your answer respecting his proposed alliance
with you,” replied the youth, giving him a
pacquet addressed to him.

“You have not long to wait,” replied Lafitte, receiving
the pacquet; and taking a pencil from the
officer, he wrote upon the back,

“No terms with tyrants!”

And giving it back to him he sternly said, “There
is my answer!” Then turning and taking the arm
of Théodore, he walked away to his boat, which lay
on the opposite side of the island.