IN WHICH OUR HERO SEES A LITTLE MORE SERVICE, AND IS BETTER EMPLOYED
THAN IN FIGHTING DON SILVIO.
But before they met the Governor at his table, a sloop-of-war arrived
from the fleet with despatches from the Commander-in-Chief. Those to
Captain Wilson required him to make all possible haste in fitting, and
then to proceed and cruise off Corsica, to fall in with a Russian
frigate which was on that coast; if not there, to obtain intelligence,
and to follow her wherever she might be.
All was now bustle and activity on board of the _Aurora_. Captain
Wilson, with our hero and Gascoigne, quitted the Governor's house and
repaired on board, where they remained day and night. On the third day
the _Aurora_ was complete and ready for sea, and about noon sailed out
of Valette harbour.
In a week the _Aurora_ had gained the coast of Corsica, and there was no
need of sending look-out men to the mast-head, for one of the officers
or midshipmen was there from daylight to dark. She ran up the coast to
the northward without seeing the object of her pursuit, or obtaining any
intelligence.
Calms and light airs detained them for a few days, when a northerly
breeze enabled them to run down the eastern side of the island. It was
on the eighteenth day after they had quitted Malta that a large vessel
was seen ahead about eighteen miles off. The men were then at
breakfast.
"A frigate, Captain Wilson, I'm sure of it," said Mr Hawkins the
chaplain, whose anxiety induced him to go to the mast-head.
"How is she steering?"
"The same way as we are."
The _Aurora_ was under all possible sail, and when the hands were piped
to dinner, it was thought that they had neared the chase about two
miles.
"This will be a long chase; a stern chase always is," observed Martin to
Gascoigne.
"Yes, I'm afraid so--but I'm more afraid of her escaping."
"That's not unlikely either," replied the mate.
"You are one of Job's Comforters, Martin," replied Gascoigne.
"Then I'm not so often disappointed," replied the mate. "There are two
points to be ascertained; the first is, whether we shall come up with
the vessel or lose her--the next is, if we do come up with her, whether
she is the vessel we are looking for."
"You seem very indifferent about it."
"Indeed I am not: I am the oldest passed midshipman in the ship, and the
taking of the frigate will, if I live, give me my promotion, and if I'm
killed, I shan't want it. But I've been so often disappointed, that I
now make sure of nothing until I have it."
"Well, for your sake, Martin, I will still hope that the vessel is the
one we seek, that we shall not be killed, and that you will gain your
promotion."
"I thank you, Easy--I wish I was one that dared hope as you do."
Poor Martin! he had long felt how bitter it was to meet disappointment
upon disappointment. How true it is that hope deferred maketh the heart
sick! and his anticipations of early days, the buoyant calculations of
youth, had been one by one crushed, and now, having served his time
nearly three times over, the reaction had become too painful, and, as he
truly said, he dared not hope: still his temper was not soured but
chastened.
"She has hauled her wind, sir," hailed the second-lieutenant from the
topmast cross-trees.
"What think you of that, Martin?" observed Jack.
"Either that she is an English frigate, or that she is a vessel
commanded by a very brave fellow, and well manned."
It was sunset before the _Aurora_ had arrived within two miles of the
vessel; the private signal had been thrown out, but had not been
answered, either because it was too dark to make out the colours of the
flags, or that these were unknown to an enemy. The stranger had hoisted
the English colours, but that was no satisfactory proof of her being a
friend; and just before dark she had put her head towards the _Aurora_,
who had now come stem down to her. The ship's company of the _Aurora_
were all at their quarters, as a few minutes would now decide whether
they had to deal with a friend or a foe.
There is no situation perhaps more difficult, and demanding so much
caution, as the occasional meeting with a doubtful ship. On the one
hand, it being necessary to be fully prepared and not allow the enemy
the advantage which may be derived from your inaction; and on the other,
the necessity of prudence, that you may not assault your friends and
countrymen. Captain Wilson had hoisted the private night-signal, but
here again it was difficult, from his sails intervening, for the other
ship to make it out. Before the two frigates were within three cables
length of each other, Captain Wilson, determined that there should be no
mistake from any want of precaution on his part, hauled up his courses
and brailed up his driver that the night-signal might be clearly seen.
Lights were seen abaft on the quarter-deck of the other vessel, as if
they were about to answer, but she continued to keep the _Aurora_ to
leeward at about half a cable's length, and as the foremost guns of each
vessel were abreast of each other, hailed in English--
"Ship ahoy; what ship's that?"
"His Majesty's ship _Aurora_," replied Captain Wilson, who stood on the
hammocks. "What ship's that?"
By this time the other frigate had passed half her length clear of the
beam of the _Aurora_, and at the same time that a pretended reply of
"His Majesty's ship--" was heard, a broadside from her guns, which had
been trained aft on purpose, was poured into the _Aurora_ and, at so
short a distance, doing considerable execution. The crew of the
_Aurora_, hearing the hailing in English, and the vessel passing them
apparently without firing, had imagined that she had been one of their
own cruisers. The captains of the guns had dropped their lanyards in
disappointment, and the silence which had been maintained as the two
vessels met was just breaking up in various ways of lamentation at their
bad luck, when the broadside was poured in, thundering in their ears,
and the ripping and tearing of the beams and planks astonished their
senses. Many were carried down below, but it was difficult to say
whether indignation at the enemy's ruse, or satisfaction at discovering
that they were not called to quarters in vain, most predominated. At
all events it was answered by three voluntary cheers, which drowned the
cries of those who were being assisted to the cockpit.
"Man the larboard-guns and about ship!" cried Captain Wilson, leaping
off the hammocks. "Look out, my lads, and rake her in stays! We'll pay
him off for that foul play before we've done with him. Look out, my
lads, and take good aim as she pays round."
The _Aurora_ was put about, and her broadside poured into the stern of
the Russian frigate--for such she was. It was almost dark, but the
enemy, who appeared as anxious as the _Aurora_ to come to action, hauled
up her courses to await her coming up. In five minutes the two vessels
were alongside exchanging murderous broadsides at little more than
pistol-shot--running slowly in for the land, than not more than five
miles distant. The skin-clad mountaineers of Corsica were aroused by
the furious cannonading, watching the incessant flashes of the guns, and
listening to their reverberating roar.
After half an hour's fierce combat, during which the fire of both
vessels was kept up with undiminished vigour, Captain Wilson went down
on the main deck, and himself separately pointed each gun after it was
loaded; those amidships being direct for the main-channels of the
enemy's ship, while those abaft the beam were gradually trained more and
more forward, and those before the beam more and more aft, so as to
throw all their shot nearly into one focus, giving directions that they
were all to be fired at once, at the word of command. The enemy, not
aware of the cause of the delay, imagined that the fire of the _Aurora_
had slackened, and loudly cheered. At the word given the broadside was
poured in, and, dark as it was, the effects from it were evident. Two
of the midship ports of the antagonist were blown into one, and her
main-mast was seen to totter, and then to fall over the side. The
_Aurora_ then set her courses, which had been hauled up, and, shooting
ahead, took up a raking position while the Russian was still hampered
with her wreck, and poured in grape and cannister from her upper deck
carronades to impede their labours on deck, while she continued her
destructive fire upon the hull of the enemy from the main-deck battery.
The moon now burst out from a low bank of clouds, and enabled them to
accomplish their work with more precision. In a quarter of an hour the
Russian was totally dismasted, and Captain Wilson ordered half of his
remaining ship's company to repair the damages, which had been most
severe, whilst the larboard men at quarters continued the fire from the
main deck. The enemy continued to return the fire from four guns, two
on each of her decks, which she could still make bear upon the _Aurora_;
but after some time even these ceased, either from the men having
deserted them, or from their being dismounted. Observing that the fire
from her antagonist had ceased, the _Aurora_ also discontinued, and the
jolly-boat astern being still uninjured, the second lieutenant was
deputed to pull alongside of the frigate to ascertain if she had struck.
The beams of the bright moon silvered the rippling water as the boat
shoved off; and Captain Wilson and his officers who were still unhurt,
leant over the shattered sides of the _Aurora_, waiting for a reply:
suddenly the silence of the night was broken upon by a loud splash from
the bows of the Russian frigate, then about three cables' length
distant.
"What could that be?" cried Captain Wilson. "Her anchor's down. Mr
Jones, a lead over the side, and see what water we have."
Mr Jones had long been carried down below, severed in two with a round
shot--but a man leaped into the chains, and lowering down the lead,
sounded in seven fathoms.
"Then I suspect he will give us more trouble yet," observed Captain
Wilson; and so indeed it proved, for the Russian captain, in reply to
the second lieutenant, had told him in English, "that he would answer
that question with his broadside," and before the boat was dropped
astern, he had warped round with the springs on his cable, and had
recommenced his fire upon the _Aurora_.
Captain Wilson made sail upon his ship, and sailed round and round the
anchored vessel, so as to give her two broadsides to her one, and from
the slowness with which she worked at her springs upon her cables, it
was evident that she must be now very weak-handed. Still the
pertinacity and decided courage of the Russian captain convinced Captain
Wilson that, in all probability, he would sink at his anchor before he
would haul down his colours; and not only would he lose more of the
_Aurora's_ men, but also the Russian vessel, without he took a more
decided step. Captain Wilson, therefore, resolved to try her by the
board. Having poured in a raking fire, he stood off for a few moments,
during which he called the officers and men on deck, and stated his
intention. He then went about, and himself conning the _Aurora_, ran
her on board the Russian, pouring in his reserved broadside as the
vessels came into collision, and heading his men as they leaped on the
enemy's decks.
Although, as Captain Wilson had imagined, the Russian frigate had not
many men to oppose to the _Aurora's_, the deck was obstinately defended,
the voice and the arm of the Russian captain were to be heard and seen
everywhere, and his men, encouraged by him, were cut down by numbers
where they stood.
Our hero, who had the good fortune to be still unhurt, was for a little
while close to Captain Wilson when he boarded, and was about to oppose
his unequal force against that of the Russian captain, when he was
pulled back by the collar by Mr Hawkins, the chaplain, who rushed in
advance with a sabre in his hand. The opponents were well matched, and
it may be said that, with little interruption, a hand-to-hand conflict
ensued, for the moon lighted up the scene of carnage, and they were well
able to distinguish each other's faces. At last, the chaplain's sword
broke; he rushed in, drove the hilt into his antagonist's face, closed
with him, and they both fell down the hatchway together. After this,
the deck was gained, or rather cleared, by the crew of the _Aurora_, for
few could be said to have resisted, and in a minute or two the frigate
was in their possession. The chaplain and the Russian captain were
hoisted up, still clinging to each other, both senseless from the fall,
but neither of them dead; although bleeding from several wounds.
As soon as the main-deck had been cleared, Captain Wilson ordered the
hatches to be put on, and left a party on board while he hastened to
attend to the condition of his own ship and ship's company.
It was daylight before anything like order had been restored to the
decks of the _Aurora_; the water was still smooth, and instead of
letting go her own anchor, she had hung on with a hawser to the prize,
but her sails had been furled, her decks cleared, guns secured, and the
buckets were dashing away the blood from her planks and the carriages of
the guns, when the sun rose and shone upon them. The numerous wounded
had, by this time, been put into their hammocks, although there were
still one or two cases of amputation to be performed.
The carpenter had repaired all shot-holes under or too near to the
water-line, and then had proceeded to sound the well of the prize; but
although her upper works had been dreadfully shattered, there was no
reason to suppose that she had received any serious injury below, and
therefore the hatches still remained on, although a few hands were put
to the pumps to try if she made any water. It was not until the
_Aurora_ presented a more cheerful appearance that Captain Wilson went
over to the other ship, whose deck, now that the light of heaven enabled
them to witness all the horrors even to minuteness, presented a shocking
spectacle of blood and carnage. Body after body was thrown over; the
wounded were supplied with water and such assistance as could be
rendered until the surgeons could attend them; the hatches were then
taken off, and the remainder of her crew ordered on deck; about two
hundred obeyed the summons, but the lower deck was as crowded with
killed and wounded as was the upper. For the present the prisoners were
handed over down into the forehold of the _Aurora_, which had been
prepared for their reception, and the work of separation of the dead
from the living then underwent. After this such repairs as were
immediately necessary were made, and a portion of the _Aurora's_ crew,
under the orders of the second lieutenant, were sent on board to take
charge of her. It was not till the evening of the day after this
night-conflict that the _Aurora_ was in a situation to make sail. All
hands were then sent on board of the _Trident_, for such was the name of
the Russian frigate, to fit her out as soon as possible. Before
morning--for there was no relaxation from their fatigue, nor was there
any wish for it--all was completed, and the two frigates, although in a
shattered condition, were prepared to meet any common conflict with the
elements. The _Aurora_ made sail with the _Trident_ in tow; the
hammocks were allowed to be taken down, and the watch below permitted to
repose.
In this murderous conflict the _Trident_ had more than two hundred men
killed and wounded. The _Aurora's_ loss had not been so great, but
still it was severe, having lost sixty-five men and officers. Among the
fallen there were Mr Jones the master, the third lieutenant Mr
Awkwright, and two midshipmen killed. Mr Pottyfar, the first
lieutenant, severely wounded at the commencement of the action. Martin,
the master's mate, and Gascoigne, the first mortally, and the second
badly, wounded. Our hero had also received a slight cutlass wound,
which obliged him to wear his arm, for a short time, in a sling.
Among the ship's company who were wounded was Mesty: he had been hurt
with a splinter before the _Trident_ was taken by the board, but had
remained on deck, and had followed our hero, watching over him and
protecting him as a father. He had done even more, for he had with Jack
thrown himself before Captain Wilson, at a time that he had received
such a blow with the flat of a sword as to stun him and bring him down
on his knee. And Jack had taken good care that Captain Wilson should
not be ignorant, as he really would have been, of this timely service on
the part of Mesty, who certainly, although with a great deal of
_sang-froid_ in his composition when in repose, was a fiend incarnate
when his blood was up.
"But you must have been with Mesty," observed Captain Wilson, "when he
did me the service."
"I was with him, sir," replied Jack, with great modesty, "but was of
very little service."
"How is your friend Gascoigne this evening?"
"Oh, not very bad, sir--he wants a glass of grog."
"And Mr Martin?"
Jack shook his head.
"Why, the surgeon thinks he will do well."
"Yes, sir, and so I told Martin; but he said that it was very well to
give him hope--but that he thought otherwise."
"You must manage him, Mr Easy; tell him that he is sure of his
promotion."
"I have, sir, but he won't believe it. He never will believe it till he
has his commission signed. I really think that an acting order would do
more than the doctor can."
"Well, Mr Easy, he shall have one to-morrow morning. Have you seen Mr
Pottyfar? He, I am afraid, is very bad."
"Very bad, sir; and, they say, is worse every day, and yet his wound is
healthy, and ought to be doing well."
Such was the conversation between Jack and his captain, as they sat at
breakfast on the third morning after the action.
The next day Easy took down an acting order for Martin, and put it into
his hands. The mate read it over as he lay bandaged in his hammock.
"It's only an acting order, Jack," said he; "it may not be confirmed."
Jack swore, by all the articles of war, that it would be; but Martin
replied that he was sure it never would.
"No, no," said the mate, "I knew very well that I never should be made.
If it is not confirmed, I may live; but if it is, I am sure to die."
Every one that went to Martin's hammock wished him joy of his promotion;
but six days after the action poor Martin's remains were consigned to
the deep.
The next person who followed him was Mr Pottyfar, the first lieutenant,
who had contrived, wounded as he was, to reach a packet of the universal
medicine, and had taken so many bottles before he was found out, that he
was one morning found dead in his bed, with more than two dozen empty
phials under his pillow, and by the side of his mattress. He was not
buried with his hands in his pockets, but when sewed up in his hammock,
they were, at all events, laid in the right position.