Chapter Eighteen.Lucy Talboys again.At length, at daylight on the 8th of April, when I, acting as signal midshipman, was on the look-out, I saw a frigate standing towards us and making signals. I immediately communicated the information to the commander, who was on deck.“TheAndromache, Captain Byron,” he exclaimed. “She tells us that she has seen the enemy’s fleet with a large convoy coming out of Port Royal Bay, and standing to the north-west.”Tom Pim was immediately sent down to call the captain, and, as he appeared, the admiral threw out a signal from theFormidableto put to sea in chase of the enemy. Cheers resounded from ship to ship, and never did fleet get under weigh with more alacrity. By noon we were clear of Gros Islet Bay, when we stretched over to Port Royal, but, finding none of the French ships there or at Saint Pierre, we stood after them in the direction they were supposed to have taken. We continued on for some hours during the night, still uncertain as to whether we should overtake the enemy, when, to our joy, we discovered their lights right ahead.As morning broke, a large portion of the convoy was discovered under Dominique, while to windward we could see the French fleet forming the line of battle. As the light increased, the admiral threw out signals to prepare for action and to form the line.It was welcomed by a hearty cheer from ten thousand throats. As, however, we got under Dominique, to our bitter disappointment the sails flapped against the masts, and most of the ships lay becalmed, unable to obey the orders which had been received. It was tantalising in the extreme. At length, however, the lighter canvas filled, and the sea-breeze freshened. TheBarfleur, Sir Samuel Hood’s flag-ship, then our ship, then theMonarchandWarrior, theValiantandAlfredgot the wind, and the whole of the van division, of which we formed a part, stretched to the northward on the starboard tack in chase, while the central and rear divisions, under Sir George Rodney, lay still becalmed and unable to join us. Our gallant admiral, however, anxious to bring on an action, continued his course, when we saw the French fleet also forming their line on the starboard tack, in the hope of attacking us before we could be joined by Sir George Rodney.“Now, Paddy, we shall see what a real fight is like,” said Tom Pim, as we stood on the quarter-deck.“I hope we shall see what a victory is like, too,” I answered, as I eyed the approaching enemy, numbering fifteen ships, to oppose which we had but eight. Sir Samuel Hood, however, knew what he was about, and the order was given to heave to, which brought our broadsides to bear upon the French, and at the same time would allow the other two frigates to come up with us as soon as they could get the wind. The first shot was fired from theBarfleura few minutes before 10 a.m., and then all our eight stout ships began blazing away at the French, as they stood down intending to break our line; but so tremendous was the fire with which they were received, that they found the attempt hopeless. They, however, returned it vigorously, and for a full hour we were pounding away at each other, not a few of our brave fellows being killed, and many more wounded. Towards the end of the time, as the smoke cleared away, I saw the rest of our fleet coming up with the breeze, which had at length reached them. The French admiral also saw them, and, having had a taste of how eight ships could treat him, he stood away under all sail after the remainder of his fleet. Sir George Rodney now threw out a signal for a general chase, but the Frenchmen beat us hollow in running away, and we in vain attempted to come up with them. For two whole days we were engaged in chasing.“I’m afraid, after all, the mounseers will get off, and reach Jamaica before us,” said Tom Pim to me; “and if they do, what will become of Mr Talboys and his family? Poor Lucy! she will be marrying a French count, perhaps, and I shall never see her again.”“They are not quite out of sight, and though they’re gaining on us, the wind may change, or some other accident may occur, and we shall have another stand-up fight,” I answered.This was soon after sunrise on the 12th of April, when our fleet was standing to the northward, about five leagues north-west of Prince Rupert’s Bay, with a light breeze. The French were upon the same tack to windward of the Saintes, with a fresh sea-breeze. The light increasing, we saw a ship which had lost her foremast and bowsprit, in tow of a frigate standing in for Guadaloupe. On perceiving this the admiral threw out a signal for us and three other ships to chase; and, disabled as the French line-of-battle ship was, we made sure of capturing her.“We shall get hold of one ship, at all events, and the frigate too, if she doesn’t up stick and run,” said Nettleship, as he watched the two Frenchmen ahead.Presently he exclaimed, “Not so sure of that, though. I see the French admiral making signals, and we shall know what he has been saying presently.”A short time afterwards he added, “His fleet is bearing up for the purpose of protecting the wounded bird.”We stood on, however. The captain told Tom Pim, who was signal midshipman, to keep a sharp eye on our admiral.“If he keeps on that course he’ll give us the weather gage, and we shall catch him as sure as his name is De Grasse,” cried Nettleship.Our crew of course were at their quarters, and we expected ere long to be exchanging broadsides with the enemy. Presently the French again altered their course, and formed their line on the larboard tack.“The admiral has hoisted the recall signal,” cried Tom. Directly afterwards we saw the signal made for our ships to form the line of battle on the starboard tack. Rear-Admiral Drake’s division was now leading, theMarlboroughbeing ahead. The island of Dominique was on our starboard hand, the wind coming off the land, and the French between us and it. Thus they were to windward of us, standing almost directly for Guadaloupe. We were now gradually nearing each other. Just at 8 a.m. theMarlborough, in gallant style, opened fire on the rear of the French. At the same time Rodney made the signal for close action. Soon after it was hoisted all the other ships and Rear-Admiral Drake’s division commenced firing their broadsides. For a time Admiral Hood’s division was almost becalmed, as were many of Sir George Rodney’s ships, but as they drew ahead they got the wind much stronger clear of the land. After the action had continued for some time, the wind shifted, enabling us to get to windward of the enemy.“Look out there, Paddy, at theDuke. See, that gallant fellow Gardner is endeavouring to force the Frenchman’s line,” cried Nettleship.We watched for some minutes, when a shot carried away theDuke’smain-topmast, and she dropped to leeward, and Sir George Rodney, followed by theNamurandCanada, stood right in between the enemy’s ships, not far from theVille de Paris, carrying their admiral’s flag. Others quickly followed, when Rodney wore and doubled upon the enemy, all the time, it must be understood, keeping up a tremendous and incessant fire. By this gallant manoeuvre the French line was completely broken, and thrown into the utmost confusion. Their van bore away, and endeavoured to form to leeward, but our division, under Sir Samuel Hood, now getting the breeze, came up, and joined in the close fight which had long been going on. To describe it so that my account should be understood would be difficult in the extreme. All the time the shot of the enemy came crashing aboard. Our object was to catch sight of the hulls of the Frenchmen amid the clouds of smoke, and to pound away at them. Each of our ships did the same. Amongst the ships was theGlorieux, commanded by the Vicomte d’Escar. Though surrounded by enemies, he continued to fire his broadsides until his masts and bowsprit were shot away by the board, and not till he saw that he must abandon all hope of rescue did he haul down his colours. We almost immediately afterwards came up with another ship, which we found to be theCaesar, Captain M. de Marigney. We got so close up to her that our guns almost touched, and began furiously pounding away at her sides. She had already been severely battered before we attacked her. The gallant Frenchman, however, continued to engage us, and, looking up, as for an instant the smoke was blown aside, we saw that he had nailed his colours to the mast.“We must knock them away notwithstanding,” said Nettleship.Soon afterwards down came the enemy’s mainmast, followed by her mizzenmast, fortunately falling over on the opposite side.Still the Frenchmen continued working their guns, but one after the other ceased firing, and at last an officer waved a handkerchief, to show that they surrendered. As he did so the foremast went by the board. We immediately ceased firing, and our second lieutenant was sent to take possession in one of the few of our boats which could swim. I accompanied him. I by this time had seen a good deal of fighting, but I had never yet witnessed any scene so dreadful as the decks of theCaesarpresented. On reaching the upper deck, one of the first objects which met our eyes was the body of the gallant captain, who had just breathed his last. Near him lay three or four other officers, and a little farther off two young midshipmen; while fore and aft lay the dead and wounded, their shipmates having had no time as yet to carry the latter below. Everywhere there was wreck and confusion, masts and rigging trailing overboard, the stumps alone remaining, the bulwarks shattered, the guns upset, the carriages of some knocked to pieces, every boat damaged, while it was impossible, as we stepped along, to avoid the pools of blood and gore. The third lieutenant, his head bound up, stepped forward, saying that he was the officer of the highest rank remaining, and offered his sword. In the meantime the fight continued raging: theArdentstruck to theBelliqueux, and theHectorto theCanada; but the gallant Cornwallis, leaving his prize, made sail after the Count de Grasse, who, together with his second, was endeavouring to rejoin his flying and scattered ships. We were fast approaching. Notwithstanding this, the Count de Grasse held out till theBarfleurcame up, and poured in so tremendous and destructive a fire, that at length the gallant Frenchman, deserted by his ships, was compelled to haul down his flag, just as the sun sank beneath the horizon.The French fleet were now going off before the wind, pursued by some of our ships. Others would have joined in the chase, but Sir George Rodney, wishing to collect the fleet and secure his prizes, made the signal to the fleet to bring to.Our captain meantime had ordered us at once to commence removing the prisoners.I had shoved off with one boat-load, and just got alongside theCerberus, when I heard the cry, “TheCaesaris on fire!” I hurried the prisoners up the side, eager to assist in extinguishing the flames, or to bring away as many as I could of those on board. Several of the other ships were also sending their uninjured boats to the rescue; but before they could reach the blazing ship, we heard a fearfully loud explosion. Up went her decks. Fragments of planks and timbers, and even heavy guns, with human bodies torn and rent asunder, rose in the air; the whole ship blazed furiously, lighting up the surrounding vessels with a lurid glare, when suddenly her hull sank, and all was dark around. In her perished our third lieutenant and boatswain, and fifty of our gallant crew, besides four hundred Frenchmen.Our most valuable prize was theVille de Paris, as she had on board a quantity of specie, and she was considered the finest ship afloat; but we had a heavy price to pay for our victory: Captain Bayne, of theAlfred, and Captain Blair, of theAnson, were killed, besides several lieutenants and other officers. Altogether we lost two hundred and fifty-three men killed, and eight hundred and sixteen wounded. The French ships, having numerous troops on board, and carrying more men than ours, suffered more severely in proportion, and it was generally believed that three thousand were killed, and double the number wounded. On board theVille de Parisalone four hundred were slain.We remained three days under Guadaloupe, repairing damages, when Sir George Rodney ordered Sir Samuel Hood to proceed with his division in search of stragglers. In spite of the fighting we had had, with cheerful alacrity we stood away; and on the 19th sighted five of the enemy’s ships. They were standing for the Mona passage.“They hope to escape us,” said Nettleship. “But never fear, if they can get through, so can we.”This proved to be the case. Just then Sir Samuel Hood threw out the signal for a general chase. A shout rose from our deck when it was seen that the wind had died away, and that the enemy lay becalmed.TheValiantearly in the afternoon got alongside theCaton, which immediately struck. Captain Goodall then stood on, leaving us to pick her up, and attacked theJason, of the same force, with so much impetuosity, that after a stout resistance of twenty minutes she also hauled down her colours. Two other smaller ships were shortly afterwards captured, and only one, which got through the passage, effected her escape.A few days afterwards we rejoined Sir George Rodney under Cape Tiberoon, and with him proceeded to Jamaica.Great was the rejoicing of the inhabitants. Guns were thundering, flags flying on steeples and houses and hundreds of flagstaff’s; and the whole town of Kingston turned out, with the military and civic authorities at their head, to receive the conqueror as he landed, accompanied by the Count de Grasse, the admiral who had threatened their subjugation.We aboard theCerberussaw little of the festivities which took place, as we were engaged in repairing her, and fitting her for sea,—it being understood that in consequence of the damages she had received she was to be sent home.Tom and I got leave only for one day to go up to Kingston, in the hopes of seeing our friends the Talboys. Tom was in a great state of excitement.“I say, Paddy, I wonder whether Lucy still cares for me,” he said. “Perhaps she’ll have forgotten all about me by this time; and if that fellow Duffy has been stationed at Kingston, as soon as we left he’ll have done his best to cut me out.”“I don’t think her papa, at all events, would prefer an ensign to a midshipman; and depend upon it, that if she has transferred her affections, it would be to a post-captain or a colonel,” I answered. “But cheer up, Tom, don’t be down-hearted; we’ll hope for the best.”Almost the first gentlemen we saw on landing were two French officers, strolling along arm in arm. As we got close to them they turned their heads, and I recognised Lieutenant Dubois and La Touche. They knew me in a moment, and held out their hands with more cordiality than I should have expected.“You see us again prisoners to your brave nation; but we have given our parole, and are allowed to be at large during the day,” said Dubois.“You’ll come to our lodgings, I hope, and allow us to show you some hospitality,” added La Touche. “In this life we have many ups and downs. One day you are prisoners to us, and the next day we are prisoners to you. What matters it if we retain our honour and our lives. It’s a miracle that we’re alive.”“How is that?” I asked.“We were aboard theVille de Paris,” he said, “and were doing duty on the lower deck. We fought to the last, and fully believed that the ship would go down. At one time the admiral was the only person left unwounded on the upper deck. Officer after officer was killed as they went up to join him. We were about to follow, when our flag was hauled down. However, we expect to be exchanged soon, when, for my part, I intend to return to France.”This was said as we walked along with the young Frenchmen.The lodgings to which they introduced us consisted of a single room, in which they slept and took their meals; but they didn’t seem a bit ashamed of it, and did the honours with as great an air as if they were receiving us in a magnificent saloon. They had evidently won the heart of their mulatto landlady, who placed an elegant repast on the table,—indeed, in a country where fruits and delicacies are abundant, that is not any difficult matter.“The English are very polite to us here; and some of the young ladies are charming,” observed Dubois. “There is one family especially polite,—that of a Monsieur Talboys. Ah!ma foi! his little daughter is perfectly charming.”On hearing the name of Talboys, Tom Pim pricked up his ears and looked at me, for he was not able to understand all that was said.“We are acquainted with Mr Talboys,” I observed, “and all must admire his daughter. Is she not engaged to be married yet?”“Ah, yes, there’s the pity,” said Dubois, shrugging his shoulders; “to a military officer, I’m told,—the Capitaine Duffy. He has lately obtained his promotion, and appeared at a ball in a bright new uniform, which completely captivated the young lady’s heart.”“I’ll not believe it until I see her, and she tells me so,” exclaimed Tom, starting up. “You must have been misinformed, monsieur.”“Ma foi! I hope so,” said Dubois; “for I thought I was making great way, and resolved, if her father would accept me as his son-in-law, to give up the sea and settle down as a planter in Jamaica.”On hearing this Tom became very fidgety, and proposed that we should go in search of our friends. As I was afraid that he might say something which might annoy our hosts, I agreed, and, wishing them good-bye, Tom and I started for Mr Talboys’ town house.We had no great difficulty in finding it. Just as we reached the entrance, who should I see but Duffy himself, strutting out in a captain’s uniform. He didn’t know me at first, until I hailed him.“What, Duffy!” I exclaimed. “It must be yourself or your elder brother. Let me congratulate you on obtaining your captain’s commission. You have faster promotion in your service than we have in the navy.”“Ah, Paddy! is it you?” he cried, taking me by the hand. “It’s myself, I can assure you. Thanks to this torrid climate, sangaree, and Yellow Jack, you’re right, my boy. All the fine fellows you knew at Savannah are invalided home, or are under the sod; but as I eschew strong drinks, and keep in the shade as much as I can, I have hitherto escaped the fell foe. I suppose you’re going to call on my friends the Talboys? They will be very glad to see you. We often talk about you, for the gallant way in which you, Pim, and your other messmates behaved when the house was attacked.”“Here is Pim,” I said.“What! I beg your pardon,” said he; “I really did not recognise you;” and he put out his hand, which Tom took rather coldly. “We all owe you a debt of gratitude which none of us know how to repay.”“I don’t require payment,” said Tom, drawing himself up stiffly. “Good morning, Captain Duffy! I don’t wish to detain you.”“Well, as I have to go on guard, I mustn’t stop, or I should like to go back and join Lucy in thanking you.”“I don’t require thanks,” said Tom, gulping down his rising anger. “Come along, Paddy.”As I saw that the sooner the interview was brought to an end the better, we entered the house. Tom was even half inclined to turn back, and I think he would have done so had not Mr Talboys seen us, and insisted on our coming into the drawing-room.Both of us followed him over the slippery floor, and nearly pitched down on our noses, making a somewhat eccentric entrance into the room.Mrs Talboys, with Lucy and her younger girls, were seated on cane-bottomed sofas, dressed in white, with fans in their hands. The weather was unusually hot. A blush rose to Lucy’s cheek as she saw Tom. She, however, came frankly forward, and we all shook hands. Nothing was said about Duffy. They were all eager to hear our adventures, which we narrated as briefly as we could. They knew Dubois and La Touche, and Mr Talboys thought them very agreeable Frenchmen, but they didn’t appear to be much in Lucy’s good graces. I was much inclined to speak of Duffy, but Lucy evidently didn’t wish to mention him. We had observed the marks of fire on some of the houses as we came along, and Mr Talboys told us that since we had been there there had been a fearful conflagration; and had not the wind shifted, the whole town would have been burned down. He and his family were at that time in the country, and so escaped the alarm which the fire caused.Mrs Talboys invited us to spend the evening at the house, but Tom at once answered for himself and me, and said that we had to return on board, and we were not pressed to stay. At last we got up to take our leave.“Lucy is very anxious again to thank you, Mr Pim, for your brave conduct in saving her from the blacks. Perhaps you’ll meet in England, as she expects to go there shortly, should peace be established; but we are unwilling to allow her to risk the danger of the passage in war time.”Lucy had managed to get Tom to the window, so I didn’t hear what she said, but he looked far from happy.“I must tell you, Mr Finnahan, that my daughter will probably be soon married. Captain Duffy,” said Mrs Talboys, “her intended, is an excellent young man, and heir to a good estate, with a sufficient fortune already in possession; and she could not expect to make a more satisfactory match. It has our entire approval. You know him well, he tells me?”I of course said that I did, that he had treated me very kindly at Savannah, and that I must congratulate him on his good fortune.While we were speaking, Tom came up, and said somewhat abruptly, “Paddy, we must not delay longer.” He didn’t again turn towards Miss Lucy, to whom I went up and wished good-bye. Tom and I then paid our adieus to the rest of the family. Lucy was well-nigh crying, I thought, but the yellow light admitted through the blinds prevented me from seeing clearly.“It’s all over,” cried Tom, as we got outside. “I thought it would happen. I’ve been and made a fool of myself, and I’ll never do so again as long as I live; no, never—never!”I comforted Tom as well as I could, and indeed he soon recovered his equanimity. I told him I was sure that Miss Lucy was very grateful, though she was not inclined to wait till he had become a post-captain, or even a commander, to marry him.We looked in on our way down to the harbour on our two French friends. We found them in high spirits, for they had just received information that they were to accompany the Count de Grasse, and other French officers, who were about to return home, on board theSandwich, Sir Peter Parker’s flag-ship, on their parole. As Sir Peter was on the point of sailing in charge of a homeward-bound convoy, Sir George Rodney remained as commander-in-chief at Jamaica. A short time after, Admiral Pigot arrived out from England to supersede him, and Sir George returned home in theMontague.At length, after lying idle for some time, Admiral Pigot, with his flag on board theFormidablemade the signal for the whole fleet to put to sea.A report reached us just before this that we and the other ships were to return to England, and highly delighted every one was at the thoughts of going home. We were, however, kept cruising for some time, till we fell in with the fleet of Admiral Graves off Havanna; thence we proceeded to Bluefields, on the south coast of Jamaica, towards its western end.Here Admiral Graves, whose flag was flying aboard thefamilies, received orders to convoy a hundred sail of merchantmen, together with the French prizes, consisting of theVille de Paris, no guns, theGlorieuxandHector; of 74 guns each, and theArdentandJason, of 64 guns each. The men-of-war accompanying them were theCanada, our ship theCerberus, of 74 guns each, and thePallas, of 36 guns.“It’s to be hoped that we shall have fine weather,” said Nettleship one day at mess. “Even now we’re obliged to keep the pumps going every watch. It’s a wonder the hull and rigging hold together; while we’re terribly short-handed, and, as far as I can judge, the rest of the ships are in no better condition, and the prizes are still more battered.”“What an old croaker you’ve become,” cried Tom. “I thought you would have been the last person to talk in that way.”Others, joining Tom, made the same sort of remarks.“I’m not croaking. I only say that never fleet put to sea in a worse condition; but I do hope we shall be blessed with fine weather, and not meet with a heavy gale, or have to encounter an enemy of superior force.”Those watching us from the shore could certainly not have supposed that the fine-looking fleet sailing along the coast of Jamaica was unable to cope with the fiercest gale that it was likely to encounter.As we got away from land we found that theJasonhad not joined us, being employed in completing her water, while during a calm the officers of theArdentsent a memorial to the admiral stating that she was totally unseaworthy; and they had therefore the good fortune to be ordered back to Jamaica to refit.For some time the fine weather lasted, and few doubted that we should convoy the merchantmen committed to our charge, and the trophies of our hard-earned victory, in safety to England. We had got about the latitude of the Bermudas, when some of the convoy parted company, on their way to New York, leaving us, including the men-of-war and merchantmen, with only ninety-two sail,—theVille de Paris, under an experienced navigator, leading the van through the Gulf Stream. The wind and sea, however, shortly after this got up, and two ships, theCatonandPallas, made signals of distress, each having sprung a leak. The admiral therefore ordered them to bear away for Halifax, then less than a hundred leagues distant. Scarcely were they out of sight than the wind shifted to the south-east, blowing strongly, while a still heavier sea got up. The admiral on this made signals for the whole fleet to collect together, and prepare for a heavy gale. He hove-to on the larboard tack under his mainsail, with topgallant masts struck. We and the other ships followed his example, with all our other canvas furled.Nettleship, Tom Pim, and I, being in the same watch, were on deck together. We had just got the ship snug, and, our duties for the moment performed, were standing together, watching the fast-rising seas.“I say, Nettleship, we have got that gale you hoped we should escape, and no mistake about it,” said Tom Pim; “but the old barkie rides easily, and the wind must blow a good deal harder than it does yet to hurt her.”“But we can’t say that it won’t blow harder, youngster,” said Nettleship, who was much graver than usual. “To my mind the weather looks as threatening as it well can be, and those in authority would have shown more wisdom had they waited till the equinox was over to send us to sea. Just look round; now did you ever see a wilder sky?”Nettleship was right. The clouds were rushing madly on overhead, while to the southward and east it had a peculiarly angry appearance. Foam-capped waves were tossing and tumbling, the spoon-drift flying off their heads covering the ocean with a sheet of white, while a lurid light occasionally gleamed forth from the point where the sun was going down, tinging for a moment the crests of the seas and here and there a tossing ship on which it fell. The sea with thundering blows struck our bows and washed along our high sides, the blocks rattled, the wind whistled in the rigging, the masts groaned, the bulkheads creaked. We had to speak at the top of our voices to make each other hear, while the lieutenants had to shout their loudest through their speaking-trumpets as they issued their orders. We were the leewardmost of the men-of-war who were in sight, the merchantmen scattered around, all pitching and rolling together, in a way which threatened to send their masts overboard. The latter we could see had now a yard, now a topmast carried away, but as far as we could make out, no great damage had been done. Each dog-watch the pumps were manned. Their clanking was heard amid the uproar as night closed in. My old shipmates and I had to keep the morning watch, so as soon as the hammocks were piped down, we turned in to get some sleep first. Seldom that I had my head on the pillow many seconds before my eyes closed, but this night the fearful uproar, the violent swinging of my hammock, and the plunges which I felt the ship making, kept me awake. My watch below seemed twice as long as usual. At length I heard eight bells strike. I turned out, and with my two messmates went on deck.“Things haven’t mended since sundown,” observed Nettleship, as he, Pim, and I were together on the quarter-deck.Indeed, the wind was howling more furiously than ever, and the big ship plunged and rolled in a way which made it difficult to keep our feet.“We’ve plenty of sea-room, that’s one satisfaction, at all events,” said Nettleship. “I shouldn’t like to be on a lee shore on a night like this.”“Faith, nor should I, unless there was a good harbour to run into,” said I.“It must have a broad entrance, and be well lighted, then,” he answered, “or we shouldn’t be much better off than we are at present.”Two—four bells struck in the morning watch, and there appeared to be no improvement in the weather. The captain and second and third lieutenants came on deck, and, by the way they stood talking together, I saw that they considered matters growing serious. The pumps were kept going twice as long as usual. Six bells had just struck, when there came a sound like thunder breaking over our heads. Looking up, I saw the mainsail aback.The captain shouted out, “Man the clew garnets, let fly tacks and sheets;” but the words were scarcely out of his mouth before the ship heeled over, with a suddenness which nearly took us all off our feet.There was no need for the officers to cry out, “Hold on for your lives.” We struggled to windward, grasping whatever we could clutch. More and more the ship heeled over; then there came another loud report, the mainmast went by the board, the fore-topmast fell over the starboard bow, and the next instant the mizzenmast was carried away half up from the deck, while the sound of repeated blows which came from the after-part of the ship, showed us that the rudder had been wrenched from the pintles, and was battering away under the counter. All these accidents happened in such rapid succession that it was impossible to do anything to avert them. The utmost vigilance was required to save ourselves from being crushed by falling yards and blocks, while cries and shrieks arose from many of our poor fellows, some of whom had been struck down, and others carried overboard, vainly endeavouring to regain the ship. Suddenly she righted, with a violence which tore away the guns from their lashings, and jerked the shot out of the lockers. The captain, not for a moment losing his self-possession, shouted to the crew to clear away the wreck of the masts,—himself, axe in hand, setting the example. Before, however, many strokes had been given, the sea came roaring up astern, and, bursting into the captain’s cabin, swept everything before it. The doctor, purser, and several other officers who had remained below, came rushing up, some only in their shirts and trousers, others in their shirts alone, believing very naturally that the ship was going down. Tom Pim and I, with the other midshipmen, were exerting ourselves to see that the men obeyed the orders received. I met Larry, axe in hand, chopping away vigorously at the shrouds.“Ah, then, Mr Terence, things have come to a bad pass, I’m after fearing,” he exclaimed. “Will you be letting me keep by you, if you please? If the ship goes down, I’d like to see how we could save ourselves on a boat, or a raft, or one of the masts, if we can’t get into a boat.”“If it comes to that, Larry, I’m afraid we shall have little chance of saving our lives,” I answered; “at all events, however, I should like to have you near me.”I can scarcely find words to describe the fearful condition of the ship. Gun after gun broke loose, crushing several of the men against whom they were cast; shot, hove out of the lockers, were rolling about between decks, injuring many others. The water from below rushed from side to side, making a clean sweep of everything it encountered, doing almost as much mischief as the seas which broke aboard on the upper deck. The officers who had last come from below were unable to return, and stood shivering in their scanty clothing, no one having even a coat to spare. While some of the crew were clearing away the masts, which were striking with every surge against the ship’s side, tearing off the copper, and, as the oakum washed out, increasing the leaks, others, encouraged by their officers, were labouring at the pumps, while a third party was endeavouring to bale out the water with buckets. I didn’t expect to see another dawn; but the morning came notwithstanding, and a fearful sight it presented to us. Away to leeward we discovered theCanada, with her main-topmast and mizzenmast gone. The flag-ship, more to windward, seemed in no better condition. TheGlorieuxhad lost her foremast, bowsprit, and main-topmast. TheVille de Parisstill proudly rode the waves, as far as we could judge, uninjured, yet ere long she was to share the fate of many others, for after that day she was never again seen, and must have foundered with all her crew. Of the merchantmen several had already gone down, others had lost many of their spars, and some their masts, while out of the whole fleet not twenty remained in sight. Not far off from us lay a large ship on her beam-ends. Nettleship pointed her out to me. “Poor fellows, they’re worse off than we are,” he said. The crew were attempting to wear her. First they cut away the mizzenmast, then shortly the mainmast went; still she lay helpless.“See, she’s hoisting the ensign, Union downwards,” said Nettleship. “It’s her last despairing signal for help.”No help could any one give her. We watched her for a few minutes, when her stern rose, the sea rolled up and plunged into it; down she went, the fly of her ensign the last object visible.She was theDuttonformerly an East Indiaman, and then a storeship. Her fate might soon be ours.“Some of her poor fellows have escaped,” cried Nettleship.He pointed out to me a boat under sail, not far from where theDuttonhad foundered. We watched the boat. Now she was hid from sight in the trough of the sea, now she rose to the summit of a billow. Still it seemed impossible that she could escape being swamped. Yet on she went, driving before the gale.“That boat is well handled, or she would have been under water before this time,” observed my messmate. “What she can do others can do, and some of us may have a chance for our lives if our old ship goes down. Paddy, my boy, if that happens, do you try and get aboard a boat. You’re young, with a good chance of promotion. I’m old, and have none; and I should like to have you and Tom Pim save yourselves.”“But I can’t go without Larry,” I answered; “and you too, Nettleship, if you have any hope of a boat living in this sea, you must try to get off.”He shook his head.“No, no, Paddy. I have long made up my mind for the worst, and am ready for it. I should be thankful, though, to see you and Pim escape, and your honest fellow, Larry. There are two or three boats still uninjured. It’s a pity that the lives of some of us should not be saved, if we can but manage to launch them.”While he was speaking I was watching the progress of theDutton’sboat. First she steered for a ship some way to the eastward, but those on board at length saw that they should have to haul up to reach her, and again she kept away for a large merchantman to leeward. Presently the boat ran alongside the merchantman, from whose deck a number of ropes were hove into her, and the men, clutching them as the boat surged by, were hauled up, and, as far as we could see, none were lost, though the boat herself almost immediately rilled and disappeared. In other directions most melancholy spectacles met our sight. The whole sea was literally covered with pieces of wreck and human beings clinging to them, among whom we observed several women lashed to spars or gratings, probably by brave fellows who themselves had perished after in vain attempting to preserve those they loved. No help could be given to the unfortunate wretches; and even had we been able to haul some who came near us on board our ship, it would only have been to prolong their lives for a few short hours.Our captain and officers were making all possible efforts to save our ship, but from the first, I suspect, they must have seen they were hopeless. Every possible weight was got rid of. The anchors were cut away; then the upper deck guns were hove overboard, though the operation in itself was a dangerous one, for, after the gun tackles were cut loose, there was the risk of the guns upsetting and crushing those standing near. All this time the pumps were being worked. The captain ordered all hands not otherwise engaged to bale, and we were formed in gangs to pass the buckets up and down and along the deck.
At length, at daylight on the 8th of April, when I, acting as signal midshipman, was on the look-out, I saw a frigate standing towards us and making signals. I immediately communicated the information to the commander, who was on deck.
“TheAndromache, Captain Byron,” he exclaimed. “She tells us that she has seen the enemy’s fleet with a large convoy coming out of Port Royal Bay, and standing to the north-west.”
Tom Pim was immediately sent down to call the captain, and, as he appeared, the admiral threw out a signal from theFormidableto put to sea in chase of the enemy. Cheers resounded from ship to ship, and never did fleet get under weigh with more alacrity. By noon we were clear of Gros Islet Bay, when we stretched over to Port Royal, but, finding none of the French ships there or at Saint Pierre, we stood after them in the direction they were supposed to have taken. We continued on for some hours during the night, still uncertain as to whether we should overtake the enemy, when, to our joy, we discovered their lights right ahead.
As morning broke, a large portion of the convoy was discovered under Dominique, while to windward we could see the French fleet forming the line of battle. As the light increased, the admiral threw out signals to prepare for action and to form the line.
It was welcomed by a hearty cheer from ten thousand throats. As, however, we got under Dominique, to our bitter disappointment the sails flapped against the masts, and most of the ships lay becalmed, unable to obey the orders which had been received. It was tantalising in the extreme. At length, however, the lighter canvas filled, and the sea-breeze freshened. TheBarfleur, Sir Samuel Hood’s flag-ship, then our ship, then theMonarchandWarrior, theValiantandAlfredgot the wind, and the whole of the van division, of which we formed a part, stretched to the northward on the starboard tack in chase, while the central and rear divisions, under Sir George Rodney, lay still becalmed and unable to join us. Our gallant admiral, however, anxious to bring on an action, continued his course, when we saw the French fleet also forming their line on the starboard tack, in the hope of attacking us before we could be joined by Sir George Rodney.
“Now, Paddy, we shall see what a real fight is like,” said Tom Pim, as we stood on the quarter-deck.
“I hope we shall see what a victory is like, too,” I answered, as I eyed the approaching enemy, numbering fifteen ships, to oppose which we had but eight. Sir Samuel Hood, however, knew what he was about, and the order was given to heave to, which brought our broadsides to bear upon the French, and at the same time would allow the other two frigates to come up with us as soon as they could get the wind. The first shot was fired from theBarfleura few minutes before 10 a.m., and then all our eight stout ships began blazing away at the French, as they stood down intending to break our line; but so tremendous was the fire with which they were received, that they found the attempt hopeless. They, however, returned it vigorously, and for a full hour we were pounding away at each other, not a few of our brave fellows being killed, and many more wounded. Towards the end of the time, as the smoke cleared away, I saw the rest of our fleet coming up with the breeze, which had at length reached them. The French admiral also saw them, and, having had a taste of how eight ships could treat him, he stood away under all sail after the remainder of his fleet. Sir George Rodney now threw out a signal for a general chase, but the Frenchmen beat us hollow in running away, and we in vain attempted to come up with them. For two whole days we were engaged in chasing.
“I’m afraid, after all, the mounseers will get off, and reach Jamaica before us,” said Tom Pim to me; “and if they do, what will become of Mr Talboys and his family? Poor Lucy! she will be marrying a French count, perhaps, and I shall never see her again.”
“They are not quite out of sight, and though they’re gaining on us, the wind may change, or some other accident may occur, and we shall have another stand-up fight,” I answered.
This was soon after sunrise on the 12th of April, when our fleet was standing to the northward, about five leagues north-west of Prince Rupert’s Bay, with a light breeze. The French were upon the same tack to windward of the Saintes, with a fresh sea-breeze. The light increasing, we saw a ship which had lost her foremast and bowsprit, in tow of a frigate standing in for Guadaloupe. On perceiving this the admiral threw out a signal for us and three other ships to chase; and, disabled as the French line-of-battle ship was, we made sure of capturing her.
“We shall get hold of one ship, at all events, and the frigate too, if she doesn’t up stick and run,” said Nettleship, as he watched the two Frenchmen ahead.
Presently he exclaimed, “Not so sure of that, though. I see the French admiral making signals, and we shall know what he has been saying presently.”
A short time afterwards he added, “His fleet is bearing up for the purpose of protecting the wounded bird.”
We stood on, however. The captain told Tom Pim, who was signal midshipman, to keep a sharp eye on our admiral.
“If he keeps on that course he’ll give us the weather gage, and we shall catch him as sure as his name is De Grasse,” cried Nettleship.
Our crew of course were at their quarters, and we expected ere long to be exchanging broadsides with the enemy. Presently the French again altered their course, and formed their line on the larboard tack.
“The admiral has hoisted the recall signal,” cried Tom. Directly afterwards we saw the signal made for our ships to form the line of battle on the starboard tack. Rear-Admiral Drake’s division was now leading, theMarlboroughbeing ahead. The island of Dominique was on our starboard hand, the wind coming off the land, and the French between us and it. Thus they were to windward of us, standing almost directly for Guadaloupe. We were now gradually nearing each other. Just at 8 a.m. theMarlborough, in gallant style, opened fire on the rear of the French. At the same time Rodney made the signal for close action. Soon after it was hoisted all the other ships and Rear-Admiral Drake’s division commenced firing their broadsides. For a time Admiral Hood’s division was almost becalmed, as were many of Sir George Rodney’s ships, but as they drew ahead they got the wind much stronger clear of the land. After the action had continued for some time, the wind shifted, enabling us to get to windward of the enemy.
“Look out there, Paddy, at theDuke. See, that gallant fellow Gardner is endeavouring to force the Frenchman’s line,” cried Nettleship.
We watched for some minutes, when a shot carried away theDuke’smain-topmast, and she dropped to leeward, and Sir George Rodney, followed by theNamurandCanada, stood right in between the enemy’s ships, not far from theVille de Paris, carrying their admiral’s flag. Others quickly followed, when Rodney wore and doubled upon the enemy, all the time, it must be understood, keeping up a tremendous and incessant fire. By this gallant manoeuvre the French line was completely broken, and thrown into the utmost confusion. Their van bore away, and endeavoured to form to leeward, but our division, under Sir Samuel Hood, now getting the breeze, came up, and joined in the close fight which had long been going on. To describe it so that my account should be understood would be difficult in the extreme. All the time the shot of the enemy came crashing aboard. Our object was to catch sight of the hulls of the Frenchmen amid the clouds of smoke, and to pound away at them. Each of our ships did the same. Amongst the ships was theGlorieux, commanded by the Vicomte d’Escar. Though surrounded by enemies, he continued to fire his broadsides until his masts and bowsprit were shot away by the board, and not till he saw that he must abandon all hope of rescue did he haul down his colours. We almost immediately afterwards came up with another ship, which we found to be theCaesar, Captain M. de Marigney. We got so close up to her that our guns almost touched, and began furiously pounding away at her sides. She had already been severely battered before we attacked her. The gallant Frenchman, however, continued to engage us, and, looking up, as for an instant the smoke was blown aside, we saw that he had nailed his colours to the mast.
“We must knock them away notwithstanding,” said Nettleship.
Soon afterwards down came the enemy’s mainmast, followed by her mizzenmast, fortunately falling over on the opposite side.
Still the Frenchmen continued working their guns, but one after the other ceased firing, and at last an officer waved a handkerchief, to show that they surrendered. As he did so the foremast went by the board. We immediately ceased firing, and our second lieutenant was sent to take possession in one of the few of our boats which could swim. I accompanied him. I by this time had seen a good deal of fighting, but I had never yet witnessed any scene so dreadful as the decks of theCaesarpresented. On reaching the upper deck, one of the first objects which met our eyes was the body of the gallant captain, who had just breathed his last. Near him lay three or four other officers, and a little farther off two young midshipmen; while fore and aft lay the dead and wounded, their shipmates having had no time as yet to carry the latter below. Everywhere there was wreck and confusion, masts and rigging trailing overboard, the stumps alone remaining, the bulwarks shattered, the guns upset, the carriages of some knocked to pieces, every boat damaged, while it was impossible, as we stepped along, to avoid the pools of blood and gore. The third lieutenant, his head bound up, stepped forward, saying that he was the officer of the highest rank remaining, and offered his sword. In the meantime the fight continued raging: theArdentstruck to theBelliqueux, and theHectorto theCanada; but the gallant Cornwallis, leaving his prize, made sail after the Count de Grasse, who, together with his second, was endeavouring to rejoin his flying and scattered ships. We were fast approaching. Notwithstanding this, the Count de Grasse held out till theBarfleurcame up, and poured in so tremendous and destructive a fire, that at length the gallant Frenchman, deserted by his ships, was compelled to haul down his flag, just as the sun sank beneath the horizon.
The French fleet were now going off before the wind, pursued by some of our ships. Others would have joined in the chase, but Sir George Rodney, wishing to collect the fleet and secure his prizes, made the signal to the fleet to bring to.
Our captain meantime had ordered us at once to commence removing the prisoners.
I had shoved off with one boat-load, and just got alongside theCerberus, when I heard the cry, “TheCaesaris on fire!” I hurried the prisoners up the side, eager to assist in extinguishing the flames, or to bring away as many as I could of those on board. Several of the other ships were also sending their uninjured boats to the rescue; but before they could reach the blazing ship, we heard a fearfully loud explosion. Up went her decks. Fragments of planks and timbers, and even heavy guns, with human bodies torn and rent asunder, rose in the air; the whole ship blazed furiously, lighting up the surrounding vessels with a lurid glare, when suddenly her hull sank, and all was dark around. In her perished our third lieutenant and boatswain, and fifty of our gallant crew, besides four hundred Frenchmen.
Our most valuable prize was theVille de Paris, as she had on board a quantity of specie, and she was considered the finest ship afloat; but we had a heavy price to pay for our victory: Captain Bayne, of theAlfred, and Captain Blair, of theAnson, were killed, besides several lieutenants and other officers. Altogether we lost two hundred and fifty-three men killed, and eight hundred and sixteen wounded. The French ships, having numerous troops on board, and carrying more men than ours, suffered more severely in proportion, and it was generally believed that three thousand were killed, and double the number wounded. On board theVille de Parisalone four hundred were slain.
We remained three days under Guadaloupe, repairing damages, when Sir George Rodney ordered Sir Samuel Hood to proceed with his division in search of stragglers. In spite of the fighting we had had, with cheerful alacrity we stood away; and on the 19th sighted five of the enemy’s ships. They were standing for the Mona passage.
“They hope to escape us,” said Nettleship. “But never fear, if they can get through, so can we.”
This proved to be the case. Just then Sir Samuel Hood threw out the signal for a general chase. A shout rose from our deck when it was seen that the wind had died away, and that the enemy lay becalmed.
TheValiantearly in the afternoon got alongside theCaton, which immediately struck. Captain Goodall then stood on, leaving us to pick her up, and attacked theJason, of the same force, with so much impetuosity, that after a stout resistance of twenty minutes she also hauled down her colours. Two other smaller ships were shortly afterwards captured, and only one, which got through the passage, effected her escape.
A few days afterwards we rejoined Sir George Rodney under Cape Tiberoon, and with him proceeded to Jamaica.
Great was the rejoicing of the inhabitants. Guns were thundering, flags flying on steeples and houses and hundreds of flagstaff’s; and the whole town of Kingston turned out, with the military and civic authorities at their head, to receive the conqueror as he landed, accompanied by the Count de Grasse, the admiral who had threatened their subjugation.
We aboard theCerberussaw little of the festivities which took place, as we were engaged in repairing her, and fitting her for sea,—it being understood that in consequence of the damages she had received she was to be sent home.
Tom and I got leave only for one day to go up to Kingston, in the hopes of seeing our friends the Talboys. Tom was in a great state of excitement.
“I say, Paddy, I wonder whether Lucy still cares for me,” he said. “Perhaps she’ll have forgotten all about me by this time; and if that fellow Duffy has been stationed at Kingston, as soon as we left he’ll have done his best to cut me out.”
“I don’t think her papa, at all events, would prefer an ensign to a midshipman; and depend upon it, that if she has transferred her affections, it would be to a post-captain or a colonel,” I answered. “But cheer up, Tom, don’t be down-hearted; we’ll hope for the best.”
Almost the first gentlemen we saw on landing were two French officers, strolling along arm in arm. As we got close to them they turned their heads, and I recognised Lieutenant Dubois and La Touche. They knew me in a moment, and held out their hands with more cordiality than I should have expected.
“You see us again prisoners to your brave nation; but we have given our parole, and are allowed to be at large during the day,” said Dubois.
“You’ll come to our lodgings, I hope, and allow us to show you some hospitality,” added La Touche. “In this life we have many ups and downs. One day you are prisoners to us, and the next day we are prisoners to you. What matters it if we retain our honour and our lives. It’s a miracle that we’re alive.”
“How is that?” I asked.
“We were aboard theVille de Paris,” he said, “and were doing duty on the lower deck. We fought to the last, and fully believed that the ship would go down. At one time the admiral was the only person left unwounded on the upper deck. Officer after officer was killed as they went up to join him. We were about to follow, when our flag was hauled down. However, we expect to be exchanged soon, when, for my part, I intend to return to France.”
This was said as we walked along with the young Frenchmen.
The lodgings to which they introduced us consisted of a single room, in which they slept and took their meals; but they didn’t seem a bit ashamed of it, and did the honours with as great an air as if they were receiving us in a magnificent saloon. They had evidently won the heart of their mulatto landlady, who placed an elegant repast on the table,—indeed, in a country where fruits and delicacies are abundant, that is not any difficult matter.
“The English are very polite to us here; and some of the young ladies are charming,” observed Dubois. “There is one family especially polite,—that of a Monsieur Talboys. Ah!ma foi! his little daughter is perfectly charming.”
On hearing the name of Talboys, Tom Pim pricked up his ears and looked at me, for he was not able to understand all that was said.
“We are acquainted with Mr Talboys,” I observed, “and all must admire his daughter. Is she not engaged to be married yet?”
“Ah, yes, there’s the pity,” said Dubois, shrugging his shoulders; “to a military officer, I’m told,—the Capitaine Duffy. He has lately obtained his promotion, and appeared at a ball in a bright new uniform, which completely captivated the young lady’s heart.”
“I’ll not believe it until I see her, and she tells me so,” exclaimed Tom, starting up. “You must have been misinformed, monsieur.”
“Ma foi! I hope so,” said Dubois; “for I thought I was making great way, and resolved, if her father would accept me as his son-in-law, to give up the sea and settle down as a planter in Jamaica.”
On hearing this Tom became very fidgety, and proposed that we should go in search of our friends. As I was afraid that he might say something which might annoy our hosts, I agreed, and, wishing them good-bye, Tom and I started for Mr Talboys’ town house.
We had no great difficulty in finding it. Just as we reached the entrance, who should I see but Duffy himself, strutting out in a captain’s uniform. He didn’t know me at first, until I hailed him.
“What, Duffy!” I exclaimed. “It must be yourself or your elder brother. Let me congratulate you on obtaining your captain’s commission. You have faster promotion in your service than we have in the navy.”
“Ah, Paddy! is it you?” he cried, taking me by the hand. “It’s myself, I can assure you. Thanks to this torrid climate, sangaree, and Yellow Jack, you’re right, my boy. All the fine fellows you knew at Savannah are invalided home, or are under the sod; but as I eschew strong drinks, and keep in the shade as much as I can, I have hitherto escaped the fell foe. I suppose you’re going to call on my friends the Talboys? They will be very glad to see you. We often talk about you, for the gallant way in which you, Pim, and your other messmates behaved when the house was attacked.”
“Here is Pim,” I said.
“What! I beg your pardon,” said he; “I really did not recognise you;” and he put out his hand, which Tom took rather coldly. “We all owe you a debt of gratitude which none of us know how to repay.”
“I don’t require payment,” said Tom, drawing himself up stiffly. “Good morning, Captain Duffy! I don’t wish to detain you.”
“Well, as I have to go on guard, I mustn’t stop, or I should like to go back and join Lucy in thanking you.”
“I don’t require thanks,” said Tom, gulping down his rising anger. “Come along, Paddy.”
As I saw that the sooner the interview was brought to an end the better, we entered the house. Tom was even half inclined to turn back, and I think he would have done so had not Mr Talboys seen us, and insisted on our coming into the drawing-room.
Both of us followed him over the slippery floor, and nearly pitched down on our noses, making a somewhat eccentric entrance into the room.
Mrs Talboys, with Lucy and her younger girls, were seated on cane-bottomed sofas, dressed in white, with fans in their hands. The weather was unusually hot. A blush rose to Lucy’s cheek as she saw Tom. She, however, came frankly forward, and we all shook hands. Nothing was said about Duffy. They were all eager to hear our adventures, which we narrated as briefly as we could. They knew Dubois and La Touche, and Mr Talboys thought them very agreeable Frenchmen, but they didn’t appear to be much in Lucy’s good graces. I was much inclined to speak of Duffy, but Lucy evidently didn’t wish to mention him. We had observed the marks of fire on some of the houses as we came along, and Mr Talboys told us that since we had been there there had been a fearful conflagration; and had not the wind shifted, the whole town would have been burned down. He and his family were at that time in the country, and so escaped the alarm which the fire caused.
Mrs Talboys invited us to spend the evening at the house, but Tom at once answered for himself and me, and said that we had to return on board, and we were not pressed to stay. At last we got up to take our leave.
“Lucy is very anxious again to thank you, Mr Pim, for your brave conduct in saving her from the blacks. Perhaps you’ll meet in England, as she expects to go there shortly, should peace be established; but we are unwilling to allow her to risk the danger of the passage in war time.”
Lucy had managed to get Tom to the window, so I didn’t hear what she said, but he looked far from happy.
“I must tell you, Mr Finnahan, that my daughter will probably be soon married. Captain Duffy,” said Mrs Talboys, “her intended, is an excellent young man, and heir to a good estate, with a sufficient fortune already in possession; and she could not expect to make a more satisfactory match. It has our entire approval. You know him well, he tells me?”
I of course said that I did, that he had treated me very kindly at Savannah, and that I must congratulate him on his good fortune.
While we were speaking, Tom came up, and said somewhat abruptly, “Paddy, we must not delay longer.” He didn’t again turn towards Miss Lucy, to whom I went up and wished good-bye. Tom and I then paid our adieus to the rest of the family. Lucy was well-nigh crying, I thought, but the yellow light admitted through the blinds prevented me from seeing clearly.
“It’s all over,” cried Tom, as we got outside. “I thought it would happen. I’ve been and made a fool of myself, and I’ll never do so again as long as I live; no, never—never!”
I comforted Tom as well as I could, and indeed he soon recovered his equanimity. I told him I was sure that Miss Lucy was very grateful, though she was not inclined to wait till he had become a post-captain, or even a commander, to marry him.
We looked in on our way down to the harbour on our two French friends. We found them in high spirits, for they had just received information that they were to accompany the Count de Grasse, and other French officers, who were about to return home, on board theSandwich, Sir Peter Parker’s flag-ship, on their parole. As Sir Peter was on the point of sailing in charge of a homeward-bound convoy, Sir George Rodney remained as commander-in-chief at Jamaica. A short time after, Admiral Pigot arrived out from England to supersede him, and Sir George returned home in theMontague.
At length, after lying idle for some time, Admiral Pigot, with his flag on board theFormidablemade the signal for the whole fleet to put to sea.
A report reached us just before this that we and the other ships were to return to England, and highly delighted every one was at the thoughts of going home. We were, however, kept cruising for some time, till we fell in with the fleet of Admiral Graves off Havanna; thence we proceeded to Bluefields, on the south coast of Jamaica, towards its western end.
Here Admiral Graves, whose flag was flying aboard thefamilies, received orders to convoy a hundred sail of merchantmen, together with the French prizes, consisting of theVille de Paris, no guns, theGlorieuxandHector; of 74 guns each, and theArdentandJason, of 64 guns each. The men-of-war accompanying them were theCanada, our ship theCerberus, of 74 guns each, and thePallas, of 36 guns.
“It’s to be hoped that we shall have fine weather,” said Nettleship one day at mess. “Even now we’re obliged to keep the pumps going every watch. It’s a wonder the hull and rigging hold together; while we’re terribly short-handed, and, as far as I can judge, the rest of the ships are in no better condition, and the prizes are still more battered.”
“What an old croaker you’ve become,” cried Tom. “I thought you would have been the last person to talk in that way.”
Others, joining Tom, made the same sort of remarks.
“I’m not croaking. I only say that never fleet put to sea in a worse condition; but I do hope we shall be blessed with fine weather, and not meet with a heavy gale, or have to encounter an enemy of superior force.”
Those watching us from the shore could certainly not have supposed that the fine-looking fleet sailing along the coast of Jamaica was unable to cope with the fiercest gale that it was likely to encounter.
As we got away from land we found that theJasonhad not joined us, being employed in completing her water, while during a calm the officers of theArdentsent a memorial to the admiral stating that she was totally unseaworthy; and they had therefore the good fortune to be ordered back to Jamaica to refit.
For some time the fine weather lasted, and few doubted that we should convoy the merchantmen committed to our charge, and the trophies of our hard-earned victory, in safety to England. We had got about the latitude of the Bermudas, when some of the convoy parted company, on their way to New York, leaving us, including the men-of-war and merchantmen, with only ninety-two sail,—theVille de Paris, under an experienced navigator, leading the van through the Gulf Stream. The wind and sea, however, shortly after this got up, and two ships, theCatonandPallas, made signals of distress, each having sprung a leak. The admiral therefore ordered them to bear away for Halifax, then less than a hundred leagues distant. Scarcely were they out of sight than the wind shifted to the south-east, blowing strongly, while a still heavier sea got up. The admiral on this made signals for the whole fleet to collect together, and prepare for a heavy gale. He hove-to on the larboard tack under his mainsail, with topgallant masts struck. We and the other ships followed his example, with all our other canvas furled.
Nettleship, Tom Pim, and I, being in the same watch, were on deck together. We had just got the ship snug, and, our duties for the moment performed, were standing together, watching the fast-rising seas.
“I say, Nettleship, we have got that gale you hoped we should escape, and no mistake about it,” said Tom Pim; “but the old barkie rides easily, and the wind must blow a good deal harder than it does yet to hurt her.”
“But we can’t say that it won’t blow harder, youngster,” said Nettleship, who was much graver than usual. “To my mind the weather looks as threatening as it well can be, and those in authority would have shown more wisdom had they waited till the equinox was over to send us to sea. Just look round; now did you ever see a wilder sky?”
Nettleship was right. The clouds were rushing madly on overhead, while to the southward and east it had a peculiarly angry appearance. Foam-capped waves were tossing and tumbling, the spoon-drift flying off their heads covering the ocean with a sheet of white, while a lurid light occasionally gleamed forth from the point where the sun was going down, tinging for a moment the crests of the seas and here and there a tossing ship on which it fell. The sea with thundering blows struck our bows and washed along our high sides, the blocks rattled, the wind whistled in the rigging, the masts groaned, the bulkheads creaked. We had to speak at the top of our voices to make each other hear, while the lieutenants had to shout their loudest through their speaking-trumpets as they issued their orders. We were the leewardmost of the men-of-war who were in sight, the merchantmen scattered around, all pitching and rolling together, in a way which threatened to send their masts overboard. The latter we could see had now a yard, now a topmast carried away, but as far as we could make out, no great damage had been done. Each dog-watch the pumps were manned. Their clanking was heard amid the uproar as night closed in. My old shipmates and I had to keep the morning watch, so as soon as the hammocks were piped down, we turned in to get some sleep first. Seldom that I had my head on the pillow many seconds before my eyes closed, but this night the fearful uproar, the violent swinging of my hammock, and the plunges which I felt the ship making, kept me awake. My watch below seemed twice as long as usual. At length I heard eight bells strike. I turned out, and with my two messmates went on deck.
“Things haven’t mended since sundown,” observed Nettleship, as he, Pim, and I were together on the quarter-deck.
Indeed, the wind was howling more furiously than ever, and the big ship plunged and rolled in a way which made it difficult to keep our feet.
“We’ve plenty of sea-room, that’s one satisfaction, at all events,” said Nettleship. “I shouldn’t like to be on a lee shore on a night like this.”
“Faith, nor should I, unless there was a good harbour to run into,” said I.
“It must have a broad entrance, and be well lighted, then,” he answered, “or we shouldn’t be much better off than we are at present.”
Two—four bells struck in the morning watch, and there appeared to be no improvement in the weather. The captain and second and third lieutenants came on deck, and, by the way they stood talking together, I saw that they considered matters growing serious. The pumps were kept going twice as long as usual. Six bells had just struck, when there came a sound like thunder breaking over our heads. Looking up, I saw the mainsail aback.
The captain shouted out, “Man the clew garnets, let fly tacks and sheets;” but the words were scarcely out of his mouth before the ship heeled over, with a suddenness which nearly took us all off our feet.
There was no need for the officers to cry out, “Hold on for your lives.” We struggled to windward, grasping whatever we could clutch. More and more the ship heeled over; then there came another loud report, the mainmast went by the board, the fore-topmast fell over the starboard bow, and the next instant the mizzenmast was carried away half up from the deck, while the sound of repeated blows which came from the after-part of the ship, showed us that the rudder had been wrenched from the pintles, and was battering away under the counter. All these accidents happened in such rapid succession that it was impossible to do anything to avert them. The utmost vigilance was required to save ourselves from being crushed by falling yards and blocks, while cries and shrieks arose from many of our poor fellows, some of whom had been struck down, and others carried overboard, vainly endeavouring to regain the ship. Suddenly she righted, with a violence which tore away the guns from their lashings, and jerked the shot out of the lockers. The captain, not for a moment losing his self-possession, shouted to the crew to clear away the wreck of the masts,—himself, axe in hand, setting the example. Before, however, many strokes had been given, the sea came roaring up astern, and, bursting into the captain’s cabin, swept everything before it. The doctor, purser, and several other officers who had remained below, came rushing up, some only in their shirts and trousers, others in their shirts alone, believing very naturally that the ship was going down. Tom Pim and I, with the other midshipmen, were exerting ourselves to see that the men obeyed the orders received. I met Larry, axe in hand, chopping away vigorously at the shrouds.
“Ah, then, Mr Terence, things have come to a bad pass, I’m after fearing,” he exclaimed. “Will you be letting me keep by you, if you please? If the ship goes down, I’d like to see how we could save ourselves on a boat, or a raft, or one of the masts, if we can’t get into a boat.”
“If it comes to that, Larry, I’m afraid we shall have little chance of saving our lives,” I answered; “at all events, however, I should like to have you near me.”
I can scarcely find words to describe the fearful condition of the ship. Gun after gun broke loose, crushing several of the men against whom they were cast; shot, hove out of the lockers, were rolling about between decks, injuring many others. The water from below rushed from side to side, making a clean sweep of everything it encountered, doing almost as much mischief as the seas which broke aboard on the upper deck. The officers who had last come from below were unable to return, and stood shivering in their scanty clothing, no one having even a coat to spare. While some of the crew were clearing away the masts, which were striking with every surge against the ship’s side, tearing off the copper, and, as the oakum washed out, increasing the leaks, others, encouraged by their officers, were labouring at the pumps, while a third party was endeavouring to bale out the water with buckets. I didn’t expect to see another dawn; but the morning came notwithstanding, and a fearful sight it presented to us. Away to leeward we discovered theCanada, with her main-topmast and mizzenmast gone. The flag-ship, more to windward, seemed in no better condition. TheGlorieuxhad lost her foremast, bowsprit, and main-topmast. TheVille de Parisstill proudly rode the waves, as far as we could judge, uninjured, yet ere long she was to share the fate of many others, for after that day she was never again seen, and must have foundered with all her crew. Of the merchantmen several had already gone down, others had lost many of their spars, and some their masts, while out of the whole fleet not twenty remained in sight. Not far off from us lay a large ship on her beam-ends. Nettleship pointed her out to me. “Poor fellows, they’re worse off than we are,” he said. The crew were attempting to wear her. First they cut away the mizzenmast, then shortly the mainmast went; still she lay helpless.
“See, she’s hoisting the ensign, Union downwards,” said Nettleship. “It’s her last despairing signal for help.”
No help could any one give her. We watched her for a few minutes, when her stern rose, the sea rolled up and plunged into it; down she went, the fly of her ensign the last object visible.
She was theDuttonformerly an East Indiaman, and then a storeship. Her fate might soon be ours.
“Some of her poor fellows have escaped,” cried Nettleship.
He pointed out to me a boat under sail, not far from where theDuttonhad foundered. We watched the boat. Now she was hid from sight in the trough of the sea, now she rose to the summit of a billow. Still it seemed impossible that she could escape being swamped. Yet on she went, driving before the gale.
“That boat is well handled, or she would have been under water before this time,” observed my messmate. “What she can do others can do, and some of us may have a chance for our lives if our old ship goes down. Paddy, my boy, if that happens, do you try and get aboard a boat. You’re young, with a good chance of promotion. I’m old, and have none; and I should like to have you and Tom Pim save yourselves.”
“But I can’t go without Larry,” I answered; “and you too, Nettleship, if you have any hope of a boat living in this sea, you must try to get off.”
He shook his head.
“No, no, Paddy. I have long made up my mind for the worst, and am ready for it. I should be thankful, though, to see you and Pim escape, and your honest fellow, Larry. There are two or three boats still uninjured. It’s a pity that the lives of some of us should not be saved, if we can but manage to launch them.”
While he was speaking I was watching the progress of theDutton’sboat. First she steered for a ship some way to the eastward, but those on board at length saw that they should have to haul up to reach her, and again she kept away for a large merchantman to leeward. Presently the boat ran alongside the merchantman, from whose deck a number of ropes were hove into her, and the men, clutching them as the boat surged by, were hauled up, and, as far as we could see, none were lost, though the boat herself almost immediately rilled and disappeared. In other directions most melancholy spectacles met our sight. The whole sea was literally covered with pieces of wreck and human beings clinging to them, among whom we observed several women lashed to spars or gratings, probably by brave fellows who themselves had perished after in vain attempting to preserve those they loved. No help could be given to the unfortunate wretches; and even had we been able to haul some who came near us on board our ship, it would only have been to prolong their lives for a few short hours.
Our captain and officers were making all possible efforts to save our ship, but from the first, I suspect, they must have seen they were hopeless. Every possible weight was got rid of. The anchors were cut away; then the upper deck guns were hove overboard, though the operation in itself was a dangerous one, for, after the gun tackles were cut loose, there was the risk of the guns upsetting and crushing those standing near. All this time the pumps were being worked. The captain ordered all hands not otherwise engaged to bale, and we were formed in gangs to pass the buckets up and down and along the deck.
Chapter Nineteen.The wreck of the “Cerberus.”We were thus employed when the carpenter came to the captain with consternation in his countenance, and told him that the pumps would no longer work, for, the shot-lockers being destroyed, the shot as well as the ballast had got into the well, and completely choked it up.“Well, my lads,” cried the captain, “we must try what baling will do, and lightening the ship by every means in our power.”Those who had been working at the pumps, and some others, were now divided into gangs under different officers, and were employed in getting rid of the heaviest things which could be reached. Some hove the guns overboard, others got up the weightier stores, the boatswain’s party being engaged in chopping up the cables and throwing them into the sea.While my messmates and I were hard at work with the rest, I saw the captain beckon Nettleship to him. They talked for a minute or more. Directly afterwards Nettleship came to where Tom and I were at work with Larry and some of the men. “The captain has given me charge to try and save some of you youngsters,” he said. “Life is sweet, and I won’t deny that I am glad to have the chance of preserving my own with honour. You tell Tom Pim and your boy Larry. I’ll speak to some of our other messmates, and try to pick out a few trusty men who I know are cool hands, and we will try and get a boat into the water. It will be no easy matter,—it may, I warn you, hasten our deaths; but the captain is satisfied that the ship can’t float many hours longer. He argued the point, and showed me that if we don’t get off as he directed, we shall not escape at all, as numbers will be rushing for the boats when they discover that the ship must go down.”Matters were growing rapidly worse. Even now I don’t like to think of that dreadful night which followed. When morning broke, the number of ships in sight had much diminished. The sea raged as furiously as ever, the wind blew with fearful force. All hands had been toiling away. Nearly every one began to see that our efforts had been in vain. A loud noise was heard like that of an explosion coming from far down in the depths of the ship. The carpenter reported that the water in the hold had blown up the orlop deck. It was very evident that the ship was settling down. Many of the men who had been looked upon as the bravest now gave way to despair, and went below, crying out to their messmates to come and lash them into their hammocks. Other stout fellows were in tears as they thought of their country and those dear to them, whom they were never to see again. Some, though they must have known it would be of no use, were lashing themselves to gratings and small rafts, which they had formed of spars. Larry wanted me to do the same.“Shure, Mr Terence, you and Mr Pim and I will be able to manage a raft between us, and we’ll get aboard one of the ships in better plight than we are,” he said.I pointed out to him the distance the ships were from us, and the impossibility of reaching one of them. Some of the poor fellows launched their rafts overboard, but were quickly swallowed up by the sea. Even the lieutenants went below; and, strange as it may seem, few of the men remained on deck. Tom Pim and I, however, kept together,with Larry, who would not leave me. Presently Nettleship came up.“Now is our time, lads, if we’re to save our lives. I have spoken to those whom the captain named, but none of them will come. They shake their heads, and declare it useless.”One of the quarter boats still remained uninjured. We went to her and found six of our men, one of whom was Larry, standing by the falls ready to lower her. Nettleship told us to jump in, there was not a moment to be lost. We found that he had put masts, and sails, and oars, and provisions aboard. Waiting till a sea surged up alongside, he and the men sprang into her.“Cut, cut!” he cried.The next instant I found that the boat was some fathoms from the ship. All was done so rapidly, and it seemed only by a miracle we got clear, that I can scarcely explain how it happened. I looked around, when what was my dismay to find that Tom was not with us. Looking up, I saw him on the deck.“Leap! leap!” shouted Nettleship, though in the uproar his voice could not have been heard so far. Next instant Tom was in the water, striking out towards us.“We have already as many aboard as the boat will carry,” cried some of the men.What we had been about had been discovered by our unfortunate shipmates, who were now crowding to the side and shouting to us to return. Several in their fear leaped into the sea, but immediately disappeared. I caught sight of one head still above water. It was Tom Pim.“Oh, take him in—take him in!” I cried out.The men were getting out the oars. We were still, it must be understood, under the lee of the ship, or we should instantly have been swamped.“We must have that lad aboard,” exclaimed Nettleship sternly. “I’ll not try to save you if you desert him.”Tom struck out bravely. Larry and I stretched out our arms, and, catching hold of him, hauled him on board the boat. Several others, now leaping into the water, tried to reach us, but, had we attempted to save them, we should to a certainty have perished together.Nettleship sprang aft to the helm.“Now, lads, step the mast and hoist the sail,” he shouted. “Get out the starboard oars.”In another instant the boat was before the wind, a cable’s length from the ship. We could scarcely believe that we were saved; indeed, every moment it seemed as if the fierce foaming seas would break aboard us and send us to the bottom. I could not resist still looking at the ship, nor could Tom Pim. He presently exclaimed—“There’s another boat being launched.”We both saw her for a moment, but she presently disappeared.“She’s gone,” cried Tom.“No—no, there she is,” I exclaimed, as I caught sight of her on the summit of a sea, and again she sank out of view. As far as I could make out, there were several people in her, but she had no sail hoisted, and consequently in those foaming seas rising up between us was scarcely visible.We ran on, steering to the southward. Most of the hands were employed all the time in baling out the water, while Nettleship’s whole attention was engaged in steering the boat, for he well knew that with the slightest want of care she would have filled in an instant. It seemed a wonder, indeed, that she could float in the midst of those foaming seas. Tom and I still kept looking at the ship.“She is sinking lower and lower,” said Tom.I hoped that he was mistaken, and that she appeared to be so only because we were getting farther from her.Not many minutes afterwards, as I looked, a huge sea rolled up towards her.The next instant Tom cried out, “She’s gone!” I rubbed my eyes. The foaming waters raged over the spot where the oldCerberushad floated; and I knew too well that every one of our helpless shipmates had perished, unless the other boat had got safely off. Their fate might be ours before long, we all knew, though we did not despair.Nettleship’s first care was to see what provisions we had got. We found that we had but two quart bottles of water, a bag of biscuits, a small ham, a single piece of pork, and three bottles of French cordials. These he had placed in the stern-sheets, that they might be kept dry, and that none of the men might be tempted to take more than their share. We might be days, or even weeks, before we were picked up or reached land. Nettleship pointed out to us the importance of husbanding our stores. The afternoon was far gone before we left the ship, and night was now approaching, while the gale had shown no signs of abating.Humanly speaking, our lives depended on Nettleship’s steering. There was everything to try the skill and nerves of a man; but it was difficult in the darkness to watch the seas coming up so as to avoid those likely to break aboard.He sat in the stern-sheets like a figure of iron, his countenance fixed, his eyes turned now ahead, now on one, now on the other side. He seldom spoke, for his attention was occupied with the task he had undertaken. Older seamen had given in, while his courage and resolution had remained unshaken.I had always liked him, ever since I joined theLiffy, but now I admired and respected him above all men, barring my uncle the major, who would, I am sure, have acted in the same way, though he might not have had the nautical skill to steer the boat.“Stretch yourselves as best you can, youngsters, in the stern-sheets, and go to sleep,” said Nettleship; “I intend to steer till daylight, and then let either Hunt or Ray (they were two quartermasters) take the helm.”“But I don’t like to leave you without company,” I said.“Don’t trouble yourself about that, Paddy,” he answered; “the seas are my company, and precious rough company they are too; they’ll prevent me nodding.”He laughed at his own remark.At last Tom and I did as he advised us; indeed, we couldn’t keep our eyes open longer, for we had had no sleep, lashed as we had been to the bulwarks on the previous night.We both of us slept on right through the night. I awoke with a weary heart-sinking feeling. Dawn was already casting a grey light over the still troubled ocean. Clouds hung thickly overhead; the seas seemed to reach them as they rose up on either side.There sat Nettleship, wide awake, his hand on the tiller, his eyes wearing a pained expression, as well they might, looking round watching the waves as they hissed up, threatening to overwhelm us. No one was speaking. Most of the men sat with their arms folded and their heads bent down, still fast asleep. I believe that Nettleship had been the only one awake among us during the night.“The wind has fallen, and the sea has gone down considerably, Paddy,” he said, looking at me. “Cheer up, lad; we shall save our lives after all, I believe.”Tom, hearing him speak, awoke.“I wish you would let me take the helm, Nettleship,” he said.“No, no, Tom! The responsibility is too much to impose on you; I’ll let Hunt steer presently.”First one man woke up, then another, and another; but they all looked round with lack-lustre eyes and gloomy countenances. After some time, Tom shouted out that there was a break in the clouds to the eastward.Just then a ray of bright light streamed across the ocean, tinging the foam-topped seas with a ruddy hue.“It’s the harbinger of better weather,” I said.“You’re right, sir,” observed Hunt. “It will be our own fault if we don’t manage to keep the boat afloat.”I saw Nettleship for the first time showing signs of sleepiness. He aroused himself for the moment, and called to Hunt to take the helm. The quartermaster stepped aft, and Nettleship, resigning his seat to him, a moment afterwards was fast asleep.The men now cried out that they were very hungry, and Pim and I agreed that it would be better to serve out some food without awaking Nettleship. We gave each man a biscuit and a small piece of ham. The neck of a broken bottle was the only measure we had for serving out the water. The quantity was but just sufficient to moisten our lips, but not to quench our thirst. The men asked for more, but Tom told them that until Nettleship awoke he couldn’t give them any.Though the weather was moderating, the wind went down very slowly, and the seas tossed and tumbled with almost as much violence as before. It was noon when Nettleship awoke. He approved of the allowance Tom and I had served out.“But, my lads,” he said, “you see these two bottles of water. We don’t know how long we may have to go before we get more, so you must make up your minds to do with the allowance you have already had to-day. I’ll take no more.”He then told Tom and me to give him what we had given the rest; and, after eating the biscuit and bit of ham, he drank the bottle-neck full of water. My own sensations made me hope that we should not have many days to live on so small an allowance. Still, though my throat felt like a dust-bin, I determined to support Nettleship, and I knew Tom would do so, in whatever he thought necessary. We ran on all day, the wind going down very slowly. At noon, Ray took the helm. Whether he steered with less care, or, as I think, the seas broke in a different way, two in succession came aboard, and we had to bale as fast as we could, to get the water out of the boat. As it came in, it washed right aft and wetted through our bag of biscuits, which Tom and I in vain tried to save. Nettleship didn’t blame Ray, but warned him to be more careful.“I intend to steer to-night,” he said, “so I’ll finish out my snooze, and call me at sundown.”Both Hunt and Ray asked him to let them steer during part of the night, but he was firm.“No,” he answered; “your lives are entrusted to me, and it’s my duty to keep at the helm while there’s most likely to be danger.”Tom and I, however, determined to have our eyes open, so as to make company for him during part of the night, which, it being summer time, was fortunately not long. Had it been in the winter, none of us could have survived. Nettleship appeared to have completely recovered himself. I sat up through part of the night, and Tom through the remainder. We talked cheerfully and hopefully. When I lay down, I slept as soundly as I ever did in my bed. Towards morning, I suppose it was, I dreamed of the various scenes I had gone through since I came to sea, among others of the earthquake at Savannah, and then I was looking out into the barrack-yard, and there was Larry fiddling away, with soldiers and blacks dancing to his music,—everything seemed so vivid that I had no doubt about its reality. Then Mr Talboys and Lucy and Captain Duffy came in and joined in the dance. I thought it very good fun, so I ran down and began to dance, and who should I see but the admiral and captain and old Rough-and-Ready, each with a black partner, and there we were jigging away right merrily, till I awoke, to find myself in the stern-sheet of the boat, and to see Nettleship steering, while the notes of Larry’s fiddle sounded in my ears. There, sure enough, he was, seated on the after-thwart, with the fiddle at his chin, working away with right good-will. I sat up and looked at him with amazement.“Shure, Mr Terence, I wasn’t going to leave that behind after it had been saved from fire and water, so I took it into the boat the first thing, and Mr Nettleship gave me leave to play it, just to cheer up he boys a bit.”The music had certainly had that effect, for all the people wore more cheerful countenances than they did the day before. Larry, however, put his fiddle back in its case while breakfast was served out. It consisted only of wet biscuit, a modicum of ham, and a small taste of liquor. The water Nettleship said he should keep till mid-day, to serve out with the pork.The sea was still rough, though there was much less than on the previous day, and careful steering was necessary to keep the boat free from water. As there was nothing for the men to do, Nettleship advised us to spin yarns and sing songs in the intervals of Larry’s playing. He was ready enough to go on moving his bow as long as he had leave.During the day the clouds cleared away, and the sea went down still more. We were thankful for this, as we could now dry our clothes, and, what was of more importance, our biscuits, and move about in the boat to stretch our limbs. But then, again, with a calm we might be delayed, and, after all, perish from hunger and thirst. Nettleship, I daresay, thought this, but notwithstanding cheered us up with the hopes of reaching land or being taken on board some vessel. Next night passed much as the others had done. The sun rose in a clear sky, and as it got above the horizon the wind dropped, and there appeared every likelihood of a perfect calm. Our scanty provisions were served out, and then Nettleship, as he had done the day before, set us to spinning yarns and singing; but even those who had the best voices could scarcely bring out a note, and several appeared but little inclined to talk. Larry, however, kept his fiddle going, and Tom and I talked, and tried to draw out the men to tell something about themselves. At last my throat felt like a dust-bin, and I suspect the rest were very much in the same condition. There we were, floating out in the Atlantic, hundreds of miles away from help, as far as we could tell, and the calm might continue after the gale for a week or more. At last Nettleship ordered the men to get out the oars.“We may pull into a breeze, lads, perhaps,” he said. “At all events, we shall get so much nearer land.”Tom and I each took an oar to encourage the rest, half of us pulling at a time. We had been at the oars for some five or six hours, when towards evening, Nettleship, who had been standing up shading his eyes, said—“Lads, there’s a sail in sight; she has a light breeze, and is standing to the northward. We shall, I hope, get up to her; but mark you, she may be English, but she may be French, and in that case we shall be made prisoners.”“That won’t be much odds,” said one of the men; “better be made prisoners than die of hunger and thirst out here.”That was true enough, but I didn’t like the thoughts of the alternative. When Nettleship, however, said that he was determined to try and come up with the stranger, the men bent to their oars. Tom and I, at the time, were now pulling, and I was surprised to see the strength the men still possessed.Gradually the stranger’s topgallant-sails, and then the heads of her topsails, rose above the horizon.“She’s a large ship, no doubt about that,” said Nettleship. “Cheer up, lads! my belief is she’s English, but we shall be better able to judge when we see her courses.”We were now steering west-and-by-north, so as to cut her off. After going some distance, Nettleship called to Tom Pim to stand up in the stern-sheets, and take a look at the stranger.“What do you think of the cut of her canvas, Tom?” he asked. “Is that English or French?”“I should say English,” answered Tom, “but we must get nearer to be certain.”“Have you made up your minds to a French prison, lads, if we’re mistaken?” again said Nettleship.“Better a French prison with food and water, than out here starving to death,” answered the men. “And we’ll ask you, Mr Nettleship, for a drink of water apiece. We’ll get aboard her before dark, and our throats are terribly dry.”“I warn you, lads, that a breeze may spring up, and that even now we may miss her; and what shall we do if we have no water left?” said Nettleship.Still the men cried out for water. I could judge how my companions felt by my own sensations. Nettleship reluctantly served out a double allowance, leaving scarcely a quarter of a bottleful,—the other had before been exhausted. The sun was sinking low, and we had not yet seen the hull of the ship. Nettleship looked more anxious than before. The men strained every nerve, for they believed that their lives depended on their getting up to the ship before dark.Some of them now called out for food, and declared that they could pull no longer without it; others asked for the remainder of the water.Accordingly, while one half rested, Nettleship served out a portion of our remaining stock of provisions. The other half then took a meal. This, however, only made us all more thirsty, and again the cry rose of—“Water! water! We must have it, or we shall have to give in!”Nettleship seemed to think that it would be useless to resist their entreaties, and with a look of desperation he divided the remainder of the water, leaving not a drop at the bottom of the last bottle.Rapidly the sun sank towards the horizon. In a short time it would be dark, and we should have no chance of being seen from the ship. The men cried out for the remainder of the liquor, saying that they could pull all the better if they could get it. This, also, to my surprise, Nettleship served out to them,—the bottle-neck full to each of us, for we all shared alike,—and again they pulled as lustily as before for a short time; but we all felt our thirst increased. Few of them spoke; but Larry every now and then gave a shout, or made some comic remark to encourage his companions. Nettleship also did his best to keep up our spirits.Darkness, however, was fast approaching; the wind appeared to be freshening, and, should a strong breeze fill the stranger’s sails, all hope of getting alongside her before she passed us would be lost. Not a word was now uttered; but every now and then the men turned their heads to ascertain what progress we were making.Nettleship now steered the boat rather more to the northward.Presently a light streamed out towards us across the water. Again our hopes of getting on board increased. The wind once more dropped.“We shall reach her, lads!” cried Nettleship at length, in a confident tone.The men cheered, though their voices sounded husky, the ring of a British seaman’s voice sadly wanting. They pulled bravely on, however.The light rose higher above the surface. It was now almost ahead. Then another streamed forth from a port. Presently Nettleship’s voice rang out clear and loud—“Ship ahoy! What ship is it?”“His Britannic Majesty’s shipHector. What boat is that?” came over the water.Nettleship replied.Presently the order sounded out from aboard the ship—“Raise tacks and sheets! clew up mainsail and foresail! Let fly topgallant-sheets!”The wind having fallen, the ship soon lost her way, and we pulled up alongside. A light gleamed through the entrance port, and ready hands, coming down, quickly assisted us up on deck, while the boat was secured, for none of us had much strength left to help ourselves.Nettleship, Tom, and I were at once conducted to the upper deck, where we found the gallant commander of theHector, Captain Bouchier, to whom Nettleship at once gave a brief account of what had happened.“We have reason to be thankful that we escaped the gale, Drury,” said the captain, turning to an officer in a captain’s uniform standing near him. “We should to a certainty have shared the fate of many others.”Captain Bouchier made this remark, I found, in consequence of the unseaworthy condition of his ship. To enable her to perform the voyage, before she sailed from Jamaica she had had twenty-two of her guns taken out of her, and her masts replaced by others of smaller dimensions. Her crew amounted in all to scarcely three hundred men, many of whom were invalids, and others French and American prisoners, who had volunteered to assist in working the ship.As soon as Nettleship had finished his account, the captain directed that we should be taken below, and hammocks slung for us.“I would advise you to turn in, young gentlemen, as soon as you have had some food,” he said, as we were leaving.He also ordered that our boat’s crew should be well looked after. The surgeon, who was summoned, went to attend to them, and to prevent them from being overfed, or overdosed with grog, which to a certainty they would otherwise have been by the seamen of the ship. As I was going down to the orlop deck, Larry came aft, supported by two men, with his fiddle-case under his arm.“Och, Mr Terence,” he said, “I’m mighty glad to find ourselves safe aboard a big ship again, and to see you all right. It is more than I thought to do since our own went down with all her brave boys, barrin’ ourselves.”The doctor, finding that we did not require much of his assistance, attended to Larry and the other men, who appeared far more knocked up than we were, and they were at once sent to their hammocks. We were ushered into the gun-room by the master’s mate, who accompanied us. Here we found a number of midshipmen seated at a table, employed in various ways. They greeted us warmly, and were all eager to know our adventures, which we told them while discussing the meal placed before us. Scarcely, however, had I finished eating, when my head dropped on the table, and there I should have sat, had not one of the assistant-surgeons aroused me and advised me to turn in. I slept on, as did Nettleship and Tom, till the hammocks were piped up next morning, and, if left alone, should not have awoke for hours afterwards.We all three, though still weak, felt pretty well able to get about, and were in reality in a better state than many of the officers and men, who were suffering from the effect of the West Indian climate. I never saw so pale and haggard a crew. We were treated with the greatest kindness by our new messmates, and Nettleship was asked into the ward-room, to give a further account of what had happened to us. We had indeed ample reason to be thankful for our preservation, when so many on board our own and other ships had perished.In a couple of days we were as well as ever, and, as many of the mates and midshipmen were too ill to do duty, we were directed to take their places. Larry, as usual, made himself at home with his fiddle, and soon set the seamen and French prisoners jigging away, as he had done on board other ships.We were standing on with all the canvas the battered oldHectorcould carry, with the wind from the southward, when the look-out aloft announced two sail away to leeward. One of the lieutenants, with his telescope on his back, immediately went to the main-topmast cross-trees to have a look at them.“As far as I can make out, they are two frigates, sir, coming up before the wind,” he said to the captain when he came down.“Are they English or French?” asked the captain. “According to my judgment, sir, they are French,” was the answer.The captain took a few turns on deck, and then again sent aloft. The lieutenant, on his return, pronounced his opinion more decidedly that they were French, and both large frigates. The captain on this ordered the drum to beat to quarters, and the usual preparations were made for battle. Evening was approaching, and it might be well on in the night before the enemy could be up to us.Although theHectorwas a 74-gun ship, she in reality only carried fifty-two guns, and, from her battered condition, was not fit to cope even with a single frigate. Still our brave captain determined to struggle to the last. She being a heavy sailer, the two frigates came rapidly up with us, and there was no doubt from their appearance that they were enemies, although we could not as yet see their ensigns. All doubt on that score was dissipated, when, in a short time, French flags were run up at their peaks. The prisoners were accordingly ordered below and placed under sentries, while the captain went along the decks encouraging the men. They received him with cheerful countenances as he appeared, promising to do their best to beat the enemy. I asked Nettleship what he thought would be the result of the contest.“Heaven only knows!” he answered; “but there’s one thing, I’m certain that our fellows will fight to the last. I never saw a crew, though so many of them are sick, more resolute or full of pluck.”The leading frigate, now coming up on our starboard quarter, opened fire, and we, luffing up, returned it with our aftermost guns. She then ranged up abeam, while her consort placed herself on our larboard quarter, so that we could not luff up again without being raked by the other. We, however, could fight our starboard broadside, and occasionally could bring some of our larboard guns to bear on the enemy on that side. We could now see that each frigate mounted forty guns, their decks being crowded with men; indeed, they together mustered more than double our complement. These were fearful odds, but Captain Bouchier and his crew seemed in no way daunted. The men ran the guns in and out as fast as they could load them, but the enemy’s shot came crashing aboard, committing fearful havoc in all parts of the ship. The French must have known, from our smaller masts and spars, that we were likely to be short-handed, and also soon discovered the small number of guns we carried.Though I saw numbers struck down around me, I never for one instant thought of myself or expected to be killed. The surgeons below soon had their hands full, as one poor fellow after another was carried down to the cockpit. The dead were left where they fell, for all were too busy to remove them. The enemy generally fired at our hull rather than at our spars.I was standing near Nettleship, when I heard him exclaim—“Here comes one of them alongside us.”I looked out of a port, and there saw the frigate on the starboard beam dropping so close that I could distinguish the countenances of the people on her deck.Presently the voice of the captain sounded loud and clear—“Boarders! repel boarders!”Our crew, leaving the guns on the starboard side, seized their weapons; some stood armed with cutlasses and pistols, others with pikes, at the place where the Frenchmen were likely to try and gain a footing on our deck. Our larboard guns were still replying to the fire of the frigate on that quarter; but she now making sail, ranged up alongside, receiving, however, a heavy fire from our guns as she did so. A large body of her men, with the soldiers, stood on the forecastle, ready to leap aboard.“You must drive those fellows back,” cried Nettleship. “Come on, my lads,” he shouted to such of the men as were near him, among whom was Larry. Tom also, who saw what we were about, quickly joined us.Just as the first Frenchman sprang on to our deck, Nettleship’s sword cut him down. Others, however, followed, but our men fought desperately. Though the enemy came rushing on board, not an inch of ground did they gain.Presently, a big fellow—the boatswain, apparently, from his dress—joined his shipmates, and attacked Nettleship. I saw another close behind him, aiming a pistol at his head. I sprang forward and knocked it up just as it exploded, and the next moment dealt the Frenchman a blow on his sword arm, which saved Nettleship’s life. The fellow whose pistol I had knocked up, however, had his cutlass uplifted to strike me down, when Larry, who was by my side, parried the blow with his cutlass, and, though he got a severe wound, he brought the man to the deck by a blow which he gave the next moment. Others of our crew now coming to our assistance, we drove back the enemy, who had nearly gained a footing.The fight all the time was going on fiercely on the starboard side, and we could not tell whether the Frenchmen were getting the best of it.As we had begun the action with but three hundred men, many of whom had been killed or wounded, and invalids who had scarcely strength to handle their weapons, and the French had upwards of six hundred, it might be seen that our chance of success was very small indeed. Our men, however, fought with the most desperate courage. Captain Bouchier, with Captain Drury—who was a passenger—and several of the lieutenants, headed the men on the starboard side in repelling the enemy; while the master and two of the other lieutenants and the purser encouraged those on our side of the deck.Directly the Frenchmen had been driven back, the second lieutenant, calling off a portion of the men, hurried to the guns, when their thundering roar, with the crashing sounds which followed, showed us that their shot were creating a dire effect on the bows of our antagonist. All this time a withering fire of musketry had been kept up on us from a body of troops stationed on the forecastles of the French frigates, and many of our poor fellows had been struck down.Again and again the Frenchmen attempted to gain a footing on our deck, some springing down from the fore-rigging, others clambering up from the forecastle, and all the time the guns roaring, the musketry and pistols rattling, the cutlasses clashing, the men shouting and shrieking, while the ships surged against each other with tremendous crashes,—many of the Frenchmen who were driven overboard being crushed to death between them. This continued, not for the few minutes which it has taken me to describe the scene, but for an hour or more, and it seemed sometimes that all the three ships must go down together.Our marines were not idle, for some stationed on the forecastle, and others on the poop, kept up a hot fire on the enemy.At length our ship tore herself from her two antagonists almost at the same moment; and they apparently gave up all hopes of taking us by boarding, as they didn’t attempt again to come close alongside, though their fire was even more destructive than at first, for now one passed under our stern and raked us, now the other performed the same manoeuvre; while we, with our braces shot away, our masts and yards injured, and our sails shot through and torn, were unable to move with sufficient swiftness to avoid them.Already numbers of our men had fallen. I frequently looked round to see how it fared with Larry, Tom Pim, and Nettleship, and was thankful to find them still actively engaged at the guns, at which most of the officers were assisting the men.
We were thus employed when the carpenter came to the captain with consternation in his countenance, and told him that the pumps would no longer work, for, the shot-lockers being destroyed, the shot as well as the ballast had got into the well, and completely choked it up.
“Well, my lads,” cried the captain, “we must try what baling will do, and lightening the ship by every means in our power.”
Those who had been working at the pumps, and some others, were now divided into gangs under different officers, and were employed in getting rid of the heaviest things which could be reached. Some hove the guns overboard, others got up the weightier stores, the boatswain’s party being engaged in chopping up the cables and throwing them into the sea.
While my messmates and I were hard at work with the rest, I saw the captain beckon Nettleship to him. They talked for a minute or more. Directly afterwards Nettleship came to where Tom and I were at work with Larry and some of the men. “The captain has given me charge to try and save some of you youngsters,” he said. “Life is sweet, and I won’t deny that I am glad to have the chance of preserving my own with honour. You tell Tom Pim and your boy Larry. I’ll speak to some of our other messmates, and try to pick out a few trusty men who I know are cool hands, and we will try and get a boat into the water. It will be no easy matter,—it may, I warn you, hasten our deaths; but the captain is satisfied that the ship can’t float many hours longer. He argued the point, and showed me that if we don’t get off as he directed, we shall not escape at all, as numbers will be rushing for the boats when they discover that the ship must go down.”
Matters were growing rapidly worse. Even now I don’t like to think of that dreadful night which followed. When morning broke, the number of ships in sight had much diminished. The sea raged as furiously as ever, the wind blew with fearful force. All hands had been toiling away. Nearly every one began to see that our efforts had been in vain. A loud noise was heard like that of an explosion coming from far down in the depths of the ship. The carpenter reported that the water in the hold had blown up the orlop deck. It was very evident that the ship was settling down. Many of the men who had been looked upon as the bravest now gave way to despair, and went below, crying out to their messmates to come and lash them into their hammocks. Other stout fellows were in tears as they thought of their country and those dear to them, whom they were never to see again. Some, though they must have known it would be of no use, were lashing themselves to gratings and small rafts, which they had formed of spars. Larry wanted me to do the same.
“Shure, Mr Terence, you and Mr Pim and I will be able to manage a raft between us, and we’ll get aboard one of the ships in better plight than we are,” he said.
I pointed out to him the distance the ships were from us, and the impossibility of reaching one of them. Some of the poor fellows launched their rafts overboard, but were quickly swallowed up by the sea. Even the lieutenants went below; and, strange as it may seem, few of the men remained on deck. Tom Pim and I, however, kept together,with Larry, who would not leave me. Presently Nettleship came up.
“Now is our time, lads, if we’re to save our lives. I have spoken to those whom the captain named, but none of them will come. They shake their heads, and declare it useless.”
One of the quarter boats still remained uninjured. We went to her and found six of our men, one of whom was Larry, standing by the falls ready to lower her. Nettleship told us to jump in, there was not a moment to be lost. We found that he had put masts, and sails, and oars, and provisions aboard. Waiting till a sea surged up alongside, he and the men sprang into her.
“Cut, cut!” he cried.
The next instant I found that the boat was some fathoms from the ship. All was done so rapidly, and it seemed only by a miracle we got clear, that I can scarcely explain how it happened. I looked around, when what was my dismay to find that Tom was not with us. Looking up, I saw him on the deck.
“Leap! leap!” shouted Nettleship, though in the uproar his voice could not have been heard so far. Next instant Tom was in the water, striking out towards us.
“We have already as many aboard as the boat will carry,” cried some of the men.
What we had been about had been discovered by our unfortunate shipmates, who were now crowding to the side and shouting to us to return. Several in their fear leaped into the sea, but immediately disappeared. I caught sight of one head still above water. It was Tom Pim.
“Oh, take him in—take him in!” I cried out.
The men were getting out the oars. We were still, it must be understood, under the lee of the ship, or we should instantly have been swamped.
“We must have that lad aboard,” exclaimed Nettleship sternly. “I’ll not try to save you if you desert him.”
Tom struck out bravely. Larry and I stretched out our arms, and, catching hold of him, hauled him on board the boat. Several others, now leaping into the water, tried to reach us, but, had we attempted to save them, we should to a certainty have perished together.
Nettleship sprang aft to the helm.
“Now, lads, step the mast and hoist the sail,” he shouted. “Get out the starboard oars.”
In another instant the boat was before the wind, a cable’s length from the ship. We could scarcely believe that we were saved; indeed, every moment it seemed as if the fierce foaming seas would break aboard us and send us to the bottom. I could not resist still looking at the ship, nor could Tom Pim. He presently exclaimed—
“There’s another boat being launched.”
We both saw her for a moment, but she presently disappeared.
“She’s gone,” cried Tom.
“No—no, there she is,” I exclaimed, as I caught sight of her on the summit of a sea, and again she sank out of view. As far as I could make out, there were several people in her, but she had no sail hoisted, and consequently in those foaming seas rising up between us was scarcely visible.
We ran on, steering to the southward. Most of the hands were employed all the time in baling out the water, while Nettleship’s whole attention was engaged in steering the boat, for he well knew that with the slightest want of care she would have filled in an instant. It seemed a wonder, indeed, that she could float in the midst of those foaming seas. Tom and I still kept looking at the ship.
“She is sinking lower and lower,” said Tom.
I hoped that he was mistaken, and that she appeared to be so only because we were getting farther from her.
Not many minutes afterwards, as I looked, a huge sea rolled up towards her.
The next instant Tom cried out, “She’s gone!” I rubbed my eyes. The foaming waters raged over the spot where the oldCerberushad floated; and I knew too well that every one of our helpless shipmates had perished, unless the other boat had got safely off. Their fate might be ours before long, we all knew, though we did not despair.
Nettleship’s first care was to see what provisions we had got. We found that we had but two quart bottles of water, a bag of biscuits, a small ham, a single piece of pork, and three bottles of French cordials. These he had placed in the stern-sheets, that they might be kept dry, and that none of the men might be tempted to take more than their share. We might be days, or even weeks, before we were picked up or reached land. Nettleship pointed out to us the importance of husbanding our stores. The afternoon was far gone before we left the ship, and night was now approaching, while the gale had shown no signs of abating.
Humanly speaking, our lives depended on Nettleship’s steering. There was everything to try the skill and nerves of a man; but it was difficult in the darkness to watch the seas coming up so as to avoid those likely to break aboard.
He sat in the stern-sheets like a figure of iron, his countenance fixed, his eyes turned now ahead, now on one, now on the other side. He seldom spoke, for his attention was occupied with the task he had undertaken. Older seamen had given in, while his courage and resolution had remained unshaken.
I had always liked him, ever since I joined theLiffy, but now I admired and respected him above all men, barring my uncle the major, who would, I am sure, have acted in the same way, though he might not have had the nautical skill to steer the boat.
“Stretch yourselves as best you can, youngsters, in the stern-sheets, and go to sleep,” said Nettleship; “I intend to steer till daylight, and then let either Hunt or Ray (they were two quartermasters) take the helm.”
“But I don’t like to leave you without company,” I said.
“Don’t trouble yourself about that, Paddy,” he answered; “the seas are my company, and precious rough company they are too; they’ll prevent me nodding.”
He laughed at his own remark.
At last Tom and I did as he advised us; indeed, we couldn’t keep our eyes open longer, for we had had no sleep, lashed as we had been to the bulwarks on the previous night.
We both of us slept on right through the night. I awoke with a weary heart-sinking feeling. Dawn was already casting a grey light over the still troubled ocean. Clouds hung thickly overhead; the seas seemed to reach them as they rose up on either side.
There sat Nettleship, wide awake, his hand on the tiller, his eyes wearing a pained expression, as well they might, looking round watching the waves as they hissed up, threatening to overwhelm us. No one was speaking. Most of the men sat with their arms folded and their heads bent down, still fast asleep. I believe that Nettleship had been the only one awake among us during the night.
“The wind has fallen, and the sea has gone down considerably, Paddy,” he said, looking at me. “Cheer up, lad; we shall save our lives after all, I believe.”
Tom, hearing him speak, awoke.
“I wish you would let me take the helm, Nettleship,” he said.
“No, no, Tom! The responsibility is too much to impose on you; I’ll let Hunt steer presently.”
First one man woke up, then another, and another; but they all looked round with lack-lustre eyes and gloomy countenances. After some time, Tom shouted out that there was a break in the clouds to the eastward.
Just then a ray of bright light streamed across the ocean, tinging the foam-topped seas with a ruddy hue.
“It’s the harbinger of better weather,” I said.
“You’re right, sir,” observed Hunt. “It will be our own fault if we don’t manage to keep the boat afloat.”
I saw Nettleship for the first time showing signs of sleepiness. He aroused himself for the moment, and called to Hunt to take the helm. The quartermaster stepped aft, and Nettleship, resigning his seat to him, a moment afterwards was fast asleep.
The men now cried out that they were very hungry, and Pim and I agreed that it would be better to serve out some food without awaking Nettleship. We gave each man a biscuit and a small piece of ham. The neck of a broken bottle was the only measure we had for serving out the water. The quantity was but just sufficient to moisten our lips, but not to quench our thirst. The men asked for more, but Tom told them that until Nettleship awoke he couldn’t give them any.
Though the weather was moderating, the wind went down very slowly, and the seas tossed and tumbled with almost as much violence as before. It was noon when Nettleship awoke. He approved of the allowance Tom and I had served out.
“But, my lads,” he said, “you see these two bottles of water. We don’t know how long we may have to go before we get more, so you must make up your minds to do with the allowance you have already had to-day. I’ll take no more.”
He then told Tom and me to give him what we had given the rest; and, after eating the biscuit and bit of ham, he drank the bottle-neck full of water. My own sensations made me hope that we should not have many days to live on so small an allowance. Still, though my throat felt like a dust-bin, I determined to support Nettleship, and I knew Tom would do so, in whatever he thought necessary. We ran on all day, the wind going down very slowly. At noon, Ray took the helm. Whether he steered with less care, or, as I think, the seas broke in a different way, two in succession came aboard, and we had to bale as fast as we could, to get the water out of the boat. As it came in, it washed right aft and wetted through our bag of biscuits, which Tom and I in vain tried to save. Nettleship didn’t blame Ray, but warned him to be more careful.
“I intend to steer to-night,” he said, “so I’ll finish out my snooze, and call me at sundown.”
Both Hunt and Ray asked him to let them steer during part of the night, but he was firm.
“No,” he answered; “your lives are entrusted to me, and it’s my duty to keep at the helm while there’s most likely to be danger.”
Tom and I, however, determined to have our eyes open, so as to make company for him during part of the night, which, it being summer time, was fortunately not long. Had it been in the winter, none of us could have survived. Nettleship appeared to have completely recovered himself. I sat up through part of the night, and Tom through the remainder. We talked cheerfully and hopefully. When I lay down, I slept as soundly as I ever did in my bed. Towards morning, I suppose it was, I dreamed of the various scenes I had gone through since I came to sea, among others of the earthquake at Savannah, and then I was looking out into the barrack-yard, and there was Larry fiddling away, with soldiers and blacks dancing to his music,—everything seemed so vivid that I had no doubt about its reality. Then Mr Talboys and Lucy and Captain Duffy came in and joined in the dance. I thought it very good fun, so I ran down and began to dance, and who should I see but the admiral and captain and old Rough-and-Ready, each with a black partner, and there we were jigging away right merrily, till I awoke, to find myself in the stern-sheet of the boat, and to see Nettleship steering, while the notes of Larry’s fiddle sounded in my ears. There, sure enough, he was, seated on the after-thwart, with the fiddle at his chin, working away with right good-will. I sat up and looked at him with amazement.
“Shure, Mr Terence, I wasn’t going to leave that behind after it had been saved from fire and water, so I took it into the boat the first thing, and Mr Nettleship gave me leave to play it, just to cheer up he boys a bit.”
The music had certainly had that effect, for all the people wore more cheerful countenances than they did the day before. Larry, however, put his fiddle back in its case while breakfast was served out. It consisted only of wet biscuit, a modicum of ham, and a small taste of liquor. The water Nettleship said he should keep till mid-day, to serve out with the pork.
The sea was still rough, though there was much less than on the previous day, and careful steering was necessary to keep the boat free from water. As there was nothing for the men to do, Nettleship advised us to spin yarns and sing songs in the intervals of Larry’s playing. He was ready enough to go on moving his bow as long as he had leave.
During the day the clouds cleared away, and the sea went down still more. We were thankful for this, as we could now dry our clothes, and, what was of more importance, our biscuits, and move about in the boat to stretch our limbs. But then, again, with a calm we might be delayed, and, after all, perish from hunger and thirst. Nettleship, I daresay, thought this, but notwithstanding cheered us up with the hopes of reaching land or being taken on board some vessel. Next night passed much as the others had done. The sun rose in a clear sky, and as it got above the horizon the wind dropped, and there appeared every likelihood of a perfect calm. Our scanty provisions were served out, and then Nettleship, as he had done the day before, set us to spinning yarns and singing; but even those who had the best voices could scarcely bring out a note, and several appeared but little inclined to talk. Larry, however, kept his fiddle going, and Tom and I talked, and tried to draw out the men to tell something about themselves. At last my throat felt like a dust-bin, and I suspect the rest were very much in the same condition. There we were, floating out in the Atlantic, hundreds of miles away from help, as far as we could tell, and the calm might continue after the gale for a week or more. At last Nettleship ordered the men to get out the oars.
“We may pull into a breeze, lads, perhaps,” he said. “At all events, we shall get so much nearer land.”
Tom and I each took an oar to encourage the rest, half of us pulling at a time. We had been at the oars for some five or six hours, when towards evening, Nettleship, who had been standing up shading his eyes, said—
“Lads, there’s a sail in sight; she has a light breeze, and is standing to the northward. We shall, I hope, get up to her; but mark you, she may be English, but she may be French, and in that case we shall be made prisoners.”
“That won’t be much odds,” said one of the men; “better be made prisoners than die of hunger and thirst out here.”
That was true enough, but I didn’t like the thoughts of the alternative. When Nettleship, however, said that he was determined to try and come up with the stranger, the men bent to their oars. Tom and I, at the time, were now pulling, and I was surprised to see the strength the men still possessed.
Gradually the stranger’s topgallant-sails, and then the heads of her topsails, rose above the horizon.
“She’s a large ship, no doubt about that,” said Nettleship. “Cheer up, lads! my belief is she’s English, but we shall be better able to judge when we see her courses.”
We were now steering west-and-by-north, so as to cut her off. After going some distance, Nettleship called to Tom Pim to stand up in the stern-sheets, and take a look at the stranger.
“What do you think of the cut of her canvas, Tom?” he asked. “Is that English or French?”
“I should say English,” answered Tom, “but we must get nearer to be certain.”
“Have you made up your minds to a French prison, lads, if we’re mistaken?” again said Nettleship.
“Better a French prison with food and water, than out here starving to death,” answered the men. “And we’ll ask you, Mr Nettleship, for a drink of water apiece. We’ll get aboard her before dark, and our throats are terribly dry.”
“I warn you, lads, that a breeze may spring up, and that even now we may miss her; and what shall we do if we have no water left?” said Nettleship.
Still the men cried out for water. I could judge how my companions felt by my own sensations. Nettleship reluctantly served out a double allowance, leaving scarcely a quarter of a bottleful,—the other had before been exhausted. The sun was sinking low, and we had not yet seen the hull of the ship. Nettleship looked more anxious than before. The men strained every nerve, for they believed that their lives depended on their getting up to the ship before dark.
Some of them now called out for food, and declared that they could pull no longer without it; others asked for the remainder of the water.
Accordingly, while one half rested, Nettleship served out a portion of our remaining stock of provisions. The other half then took a meal. This, however, only made us all more thirsty, and again the cry rose of—
“Water! water! We must have it, or we shall have to give in!”
Nettleship seemed to think that it would be useless to resist their entreaties, and with a look of desperation he divided the remainder of the water, leaving not a drop at the bottom of the last bottle.
Rapidly the sun sank towards the horizon. In a short time it would be dark, and we should have no chance of being seen from the ship. The men cried out for the remainder of the liquor, saying that they could pull all the better if they could get it. This, also, to my surprise, Nettleship served out to them,—the bottle-neck full to each of us, for we all shared alike,—and again they pulled as lustily as before for a short time; but we all felt our thirst increased. Few of them spoke; but Larry every now and then gave a shout, or made some comic remark to encourage his companions. Nettleship also did his best to keep up our spirits.
Darkness, however, was fast approaching; the wind appeared to be freshening, and, should a strong breeze fill the stranger’s sails, all hope of getting alongside her before she passed us would be lost. Not a word was now uttered; but every now and then the men turned their heads to ascertain what progress we were making.
Nettleship now steered the boat rather more to the northward.
Presently a light streamed out towards us across the water. Again our hopes of getting on board increased. The wind once more dropped.
“We shall reach her, lads!” cried Nettleship at length, in a confident tone.
The men cheered, though their voices sounded husky, the ring of a British seaman’s voice sadly wanting. They pulled bravely on, however.
The light rose higher above the surface. It was now almost ahead. Then another streamed forth from a port. Presently Nettleship’s voice rang out clear and loud—
“Ship ahoy! What ship is it?”
“His Britannic Majesty’s shipHector. What boat is that?” came over the water.
Nettleship replied.
Presently the order sounded out from aboard the ship—
“Raise tacks and sheets! clew up mainsail and foresail! Let fly topgallant-sheets!”
The wind having fallen, the ship soon lost her way, and we pulled up alongside. A light gleamed through the entrance port, and ready hands, coming down, quickly assisted us up on deck, while the boat was secured, for none of us had much strength left to help ourselves.
Nettleship, Tom, and I were at once conducted to the upper deck, where we found the gallant commander of theHector, Captain Bouchier, to whom Nettleship at once gave a brief account of what had happened.
“We have reason to be thankful that we escaped the gale, Drury,” said the captain, turning to an officer in a captain’s uniform standing near him. “We should to a certainty have shared the fate of many others.”
Captain Bouchier made this remark, I found, in consequence of the unseaworthy condition of his ship. To enable her to perform the voyage, before she sailed from Jamaica she had had twenty-two of her guns taken out of her, and her masts replaced by others of smaller dimensions. Her crew amounted in all to scarcely three hundred men, many of whom were invalids, and others French and American prisoners, who had volunteered to assist in working the ship.
As soon as Nettleship had finished his account, the captain directed that we should be taken below, and hammocks slung for us.
“I would advise you to turn in, young gentlemen, as soon as you have had some food,” he said, as we were leaving.
He also ordered that our boat’s crew should be well looked after. The surgeon, who was summoned, went to attend to them, and to prevent them from being overfed, or overdosed with grog, which to a certainty they would otherwise have been by the seamen of the ship. As I was going down to the orlop deck, Larry came aft, supported by two men, with his fiddle-case under his arm.
“Och, Mr Terence,” he said, “I’m mighty glad to find ourselves safe aboard a big ship again, and to see you all right. It is more than I thought to do since our own went down with all her brave boys, barrin’ ourselves.”
The doctor, finding that we did not require much of his assistance, attended to Larry and the other men, who appeared far more knocked up than we were, and they were at once sent to their hammocks. We were ushered into the gun-room by the master’s mate, who accompanied us. Here we found a number of midshipmen seated at a table, employed in various ways. They greeted us warmly, and were all eager to know our adventures, which we told them while discussing the meal placed before us. Scarcely, however, had I finished eating, when my head dropped on the table, and there I should have sat, had not one of the assistant-surgeons aroused me and advised me to turn in. I slept on, as did Nettleship and Tom, till the hammocks were piped up next morning, and, if left alone, should not have awoke for hours afterwards.
We all three, though still weak, felt pretty well able to get about, and were in reality in a better state than many of the officers and men, who were suffering from the effect of the West Indian climate. I never saw so pale and haggard a crew. We were treated with the greatest kindness by our new messmates, and Nettleship was asked into the ward-room, to give a further account of what had happened to us. We had indeed ample reason to be thankful for our preservation, when so many on board our own and other ships had perished.
In a couple of days we were as well as ever, and, as many of the mates and midshipmen were too ill to do duty, we were directed to take their places. Larry, as usual, made himself at home with his fiddle, and soon set the seamen and French prisoners jigging away, as he had done on board other ships.
We were standing on with all the canvas the battered oldHectorcould carry, with the wind from the southward, when the look-out aloft announced two sail away to leeward. One of the lieutenants, with his telescope on his back, immediately went to the main-topmast cross-trees to have a look at them.
“As far as I can make out, they are two frigates, sir, coming up before the wind,” he said to the captain when he came down.
“Are they English or French?” asked the captain. “According to my judgment, sir, they are French,” was the answer.
The captain took a few turns on deck, and then again sent aloft. The lieutenant, on his return, pronounced his opinion more decidedly that they were French, and both large frigates. The captain on this ordered the drum to beat to quarters, and the usual preparations were made for battle. Evening was approaching, and it might be well on in the night before the enemy could be up to us.
Although theHectorwas a 74-gun ship, she in reality only carried fifty-two guns, and, from her battered condition, was not fit to cope even with a single frigate. Still our brave captain determined to struggle to the last. She being a heavy sailer, the two frigates came rapidly up with us, and there was no doubt from their appearance that they were enemies, although we could not as yet see their ensigns. All doubt on that score was dissipated, when, in a short time, French flags were run up at their peaks. The prisoners were accordingly ordered below and placed under sentries, while the captain went along the decks encouraging the men. They received him with cheerful countenances as he appeared, promising to do their best to beat the enemy. I asked Nettleship what he thought would be the result of the contest.
“Heaven only knows!” he answered; “but there’s one thing, I’m certain that our fellows will fight to the last. I never saw a crew, though so many of them are sick, more resolute or full of pluck.”
The leading frigate, now coming up on our starboard quarter, opened fire, and we, luffing up, returned it with our aftermost guns. She then ranged up abeam, while her consort placed herself on our larboard quarter, so that we could not luff up again without being raked by the other. We, however, could fight our starboard broadside, and occasionally could bring some of our larboard guns to bear on the enemy on that side. We could now see that each frigate mounted forty guns, their decks being crowded with men; indeed, they together mustered more than double our complement. These were fearful odds, but Captain Bouchier and his crew seemed in no way daunted. The men ran the guns in and out as fast as they could load them, but the enemy’s shot came crashing aboard, committing fearful havoc in all parts of the ship. The French must have known, from our smaller masts and spars, that we were likely to be short-handed, and also soon discovered the small number of guns we carried.
Though I saw numbers struck down around me, I never for one instant thought of myself or expected to be killed. The surgeons below soon had their hands full, as one poor fellow after another was carried down to the cockpit. The dead were left where they fell, for all were too busy to remove them. The enemy generally fired at our hull rather than at our spars.
I was standing near Nettleship, when I heard him exclaim—
“Here comes one of them alongside us.”
I looked out of a port, and there saw the frigate on the starboard beam dropping so close that I could distinguish the countenances of the people on her deck.
Presently the voice of the captain sounded loud and clear—
“Boarders! repel boarders!”
Our crew, leaving the guns on the starboard side, seized their weapons; some stood armed with cutlasses and pistols, others with pikes, at the place where the Frenchmen were likely to try and gain a footing on our deck. Our larboard guns were still replying to the fire of the frigate on that quarter; but she now making sail, ranged up alongside, receiving, however, a heavy fire from our guns as she did so. A large body of her men, with the soldiers, stood on the forecastle, ready to leap aboard.
“You must drive those fellows back,” cried Nettleship. “Come on, my lads,” he shouted to such of the men as were near him, among whom was Larry. Tom also, who saw what we were about, quickly joined us.
Just as the first Frenchman sprang on to our deck, Nettleship’s sword cut him down. Others, however, followed, but our men fought desperately. Though the enemy came rushing on board, not an inch of ground did they gain.
Presently, a big fellow—the boatswain, apparently, from his dress—joined his shipmates, and attacked Nettleship. I saw another close behind him, aiming a pistol at his head. I sprang forward and knocked it up just as it exploded, and the next moment dealt the Frenchman a blow on his sword arm, which saved Nettleship’s life. The fellow whose pistol I had knocked up, however, had his cutlass uplifted to strike me down, when Larry, who was by my side, parried the blow with his cutlass, and, though he got a severe wound, he brought the man to the deck by a blow which he gave the next moment. Others of our crew now coming to our assistance, we drove back the enemy, who had nearly gained a footing.
The fight all the time was going on fiercely on the starboard side, and we could not tell whether the Frenchmen were getting the best of it.
As we had begun the action with but three hundred men, many of whom had been killed or wounded, and invalids who had scarcely strength to handle their weapons, and the French had upwards of six hundred, it might be seen that our chance of success was very small indeed. Our men, however, fought with the most desperate courage. Captain Bouchier, with Captain Drury—who was a passenger—and several of the lieutenants, headed the men on the starboard side in repelling the enemy; while the master and two of the other lieutenants and the purser encouraged those on our side of the deck.
Directly the Frenchmen had been driven back, the second lieutenant, calling off a portion of the men, hurried to the guns, when their thundering roar, with the crashing sounds which followed, showed us that their shot were creating a dire effect on the bows of our antagonist. All this time a withering fire of musketry had been kept up on us from a body of troops stationed on the forecastles of the French frigates, and many of our poor fellows had been struck down.
Again and again the Frenchmen attempted to gain a footing on our deck, some springing down from the fore-rigging, others clambering up from the forecastle, and all the time the guns roaring, the musketry and pistols rattling, the cutlasses clashing, the men shouting and shrieking, while the ships surged against each other with tremendous crashes,—many of the Frenchmen who were driven overboard being crushed to death between them. This continued, not for the few minutes which it has taken me to describe the scene, but for an hour or more, and it seemed sometimes that all the three ships must go down together.
Our marines were not idle, for some stationed on the forecastle, and others on the poop, kept up a hot fire on the enemy.
At length our ship tore herself from her two antagonists almost at the same moment; and they apparently gave up all hopes of taking us by boarding, as they didn’t attempt again to come close alongside, though their fire was even more destructive than at first, for now one passed under our stern and raked us, now the other performed the same manoeuvre; while we, with our braces shot away, our masts and yards injured, and our sails shot through and torn, were unable to move with sufficient swiftness to avoid them.
Already numbers of our men had fallen. I frequently looked round to see how it fared with Larry, Tom Pim, and Nettleship, and was thankful to find them still actively engaged at the guns, at which most of the officers were assisting the men.