We found orders at Barbadoes to cruise off Martinique, to prevent
supplies being furnished to the garrison of the island, and we proceeded
there immediately. I do not know anything more picturesque than running
down the east side of this beautiful island--the ridges of hill
spreading down to the water's edge, covered with the freshest verdure,
divided at the base by small bays, with the beach of dazzling white
sand, and where the little coasting vessels employed to bring the sugar
from the neighbouring estates were riding at anchor. Each hill, at its
adjutment towards the sea, crowned with a fort, on which waved the
tri-colour--certainly, in appearance, one of the most war-like flags in
the world.
On the third morning we had rounded the Diamond Rock, and were scudding
along the lee-side of the island just opening Fort Royal bay, when
hauling rather too close round its eastern entrance, formed by a
promontory called Solomon's Point, which was covered with brush-wood, we
found ourselves nearer than agreeable to a newly constructed battery. A
column of smoke was poured along the blue water, and it was followed by
the whizzing of a shot, which passed through our boom main sail, first
cutting away the dog-vane, which was close to old Swinburne's head, as
he stood on the carronade, conning the brig. I was at dinner in the
cabin with O'Brien and the first lieutenant.
"Where the devil have they got the brig now?" said O'Brien, rising from
his chair, and going on deck.
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