HERVÉ RIEL

ROBERT BROWNING

I

On the sea and at the Hogue, sixteen hundred ninetytwo,

Did the English fight the French, woe to France! And, the thirty-first of May, helter-skelter through the

blue,

Like a crowd of frightened porpoises a shoal of sharks

pursue,

Came crowding ship on ship to Saint Malo on the

Rance,

With the English fleet in view.

II

'Twas the squadron that escaped, with the victor in full

chase;

First and foremost of the drove, in his great ship, Dam

freville;

Close on him fled, great and small,

Twenty-two good ships in all ;

And they signalled to the place,

"Help the winners of a race!

Get us guidance, give us harbor, take us quick—or,

quicker still,

Here's the English can and will!"

III

Then the pilots of the place put out brisk and leapt on board;

"Why, what hope or chance have ships like these to pass?" laughed they:

"Rocks to starboard, rocks to port, all the passage scarred and scored,

Shall the 'Formidable' here with her twelve and eighty

guns

Think to make the river-mouth by the single narrow

way,

Trust to enter where 'tis ticklish for a craft of twenty tons,
And with flow at full beside?
Now, 'tis slackest ebb of tide.
Reach the mooring? Rather say,
While rock stands or water runs,
Not a ship will leave the bay!"

IV

Then was called a council straight.

Brief and bitter the debate:

"Here's the English, at our heels; would you have them take in tow

All that's left us of the fleet, linked together stern and

bow,

For a prize to Plymouth Sound?
Better run the ships aground!"
(Ended Damfreville his speech).
"Not a minute more to wait!

Let the Captains all and each

Shove ashore, then blow up, burn the vessels on the

For up stood, for out stepped, for in struck amid all these

-A Captain? A Lieutenant? A Mate-first, second,

third?

No such man of mark, and meet

With his betters to compete!

But a simple Breton sailor pressed by Tourville for the

fleet,

A poor coasting-pilot he, Hervé Riel the Croisickese.

VI

And "What mockery or malice have we here?" cried Hervé Riel:

"Are you mad, you Malouins? Are you cowards,

fools, or rogues?

Talk to me of rocks and shoals, me who took the soundings, tell

On my fingers every bank, every shallow, every swell

'Twixt the offing here and Grève where the river disem

bogues?

Are you bought by English gold? Is it love the lying's for?

Morn and eve, night and day,

Have I piloted your bay,

Entered free and anchored fast at the foot of Solidor.

Burn the fleet and ruin France?

That were worse than

fifty Hogues!

Sirs, they know I speak the truth! Sirs, believe me there's a way!

Only let me lead the line,

Have the biggest ship to steer,

Get this 'Formidable' clear,

Make the others follow mine,

And I lead them, most and least, by a passage I know

well,