Memoirs (Vieux Souvenirs) of the Prince de Joinville eBook

to despair, when the longed-for breath of wind came, and the ships drew apart.  Two hours later we were at the mercy of another gale, a north-westerly one this time, with a bitter frost, which would not have left a timber of the Belle-Poule and the Cassard if they had been in collision, but which gave me occasion once more to admire our brave sailors’ courage and devotion.  We had to set all sail so as to catch the first puffs of wind.  When the gale came on it became necessary to furl them again.  But having been soaked by the rain of the south-easterly storm, they had turned under the action of the frost into perfect icicles.  They cracked like glass, cutting the men’s fingers and tearing out their nails.  It was a frightfully difficult job to take in the maintop sail—­a very heavy hempen one—­which I had kept out as long as possible, and which had to be furled just when the storm was at its worst.  I watched my poor fellows clinging to the yard for over half an hour, shaken by the terrible gusts, and still not able to manage it.

At midnight, when the watch changed, fearing that with limbs benumbed by the cold as theirs were, they would not be able even to continue holding on, I sent them orders to come on deck and let fresh men take their places.  But no! they would not! and slowly, surely, they finished their work.  Only when they got down from aloft they came on to the quarterdeck cap in hand, with bleeding, swollen hands and faces, saying, “Captain, we have taken the maintop sail in,” with that indefinable but touching look that a man has who has done his duty to the very end in spite of danger.

My brave sailors, I could have kissed them!  But I did what they appreciated more than that!  I had good hot mulled wine ready for them, and sent them to bed on it!  Some days afterwards, in another gale, between two snow-showers, I saw that rare electric phenomenon called St. Elmo’s fire—­jets of electric fire appearing at the points of all the ship’s masts and yards.  A spontaneous, unexpected, and most effective illumination.

And then we entered Toulon harbour, where we saluted the flag of Admiral Hugon, commanding the squadron to which the Belle-Poule was about to be attached.

CHAPTER IX

1842

As the squadron was to go into winter quarters at Toulon, and as the Belle-Poule had to repair a great many damages, I went back to Paris towards the end of January, 1842, and plunged joyfully into that most precious of all possessions amidst the storms and vicissitudes of politics, my home life.  This notwithstanding, the pleasures of the gay world, then a fairly brilliant one were by no means indifferent to me.  There was a numerous succession of festivities.  My brother, the Duc d’Orleans, gave a magnificent fancy ball in the Pavillon Marsan.  All the elegant and artistic world of Paris was there, dressed either in historical costumes, faithfully copied from pictures