To the seas presentlye went our lord admiral,
With knights couragious and captains full good;
The brave Earl of Essex, a prosperous general,
With him prepared to pass the salt flood.
At Plymouth speedilye took they ship valiantlye,
Braver ships never were seen under sayle,
With their fair colours spread, and streamers o'er their head:
Now, bragging foemen, take heed of your tayle.
OLD BALLAD, 1596.
Many and various were the questions that were put by our little hero to
Adams and others, relative to the fate of his parents. That they were
both dead was all the information that he could obtain; for, to the
honour of human nature, there was not one man in a ship's company
composed of several hundred, who had the cruelty to tell the child that
his father had been hanged. It may, at first, appear strange to the
reader, that the child himself was not aware of the fact, from what he
had witnessed on the morning of execution; but it must be recollected
that he had never seen an execution before, and had therefore nothing
from which to draw such an inference. All he knew was, that his father
was on the quarter-deck, with a night-cap on, and that he told him that
he was going to sleep. The death of his mother, whose body he was not
permitted to see, was quite as unintelligible, and the mystery which
enveloped the whole transaction added no little to the bereavement of
the child, who, as I have before stated, from his natural talent and
peculiar education was far more reflective and advanced than children
usually are.
Adams returned to his little charge with pleasure: he had now a right to
adopt the child, and consider him as his own. In the ship, the boy was
such an object of general sympathy, that not only many of the men, but
some of the officers, would gladly have taken him, and have brought him
up. The name of his father was, by general consent, never mentioned,
especially as Adams informed the officers and men that Peters had been a
"_purser's name_," adopted by the child's father, and that, although the
clergyman had stated this, he had not intrusted him with the real name
that the child was entitled to bear. As, therefore, our little hero was
not only without parents, but without name, he was re-christened by
Adams by the cognomen of the "King's Own," and by that title, or his
Christian name, Willy, was ever afterwards addressed, both by officers
and men.
There is an elasticity supplied to the human mind by unerring Wisdom,
that enables us, however broken down by the pressure of misfortune, to
recover our cheerfulness after a while, and resign ourselves to the
decrees of Heaven. It consoles the widow--it supports the bereaved
lover, who had long dwelt upon anticipated bliss--it almost reconciles
to her lot the fond and forsaken girl, whose heart is breaking.
Unusually oppressed as Willy was, with the loss of those to whom he had
so fondly clung from his birth, in a few months he recovered his wonted
spirits, and his cheeks again played with dimples, as his flashing eye
beamed from under his long eyelashes. He attached himself to the old
quarter-master, and seldom quitted him--he slept in his hammock, he
stood by his side when he was on deck, at his duty, steering the ship,
and he listened to the stories of the good old man, who soon taught him
to read and write. For three years thus passed his life; at the end of
which period he had arrived at the age of nine years.
After a long monotony of blockade service, the ship was ordered to hoist
the flag of a commodore, who was appointed to the command of an
expedition against the western coast of France, to create a diversion in
favour of the Vendean chiefs. Captain A---, whether it was that he did
not like to receive a superior officer on board of his ship, or that he
did not admire the service upon which she was to be employed, obtained
permission to leave his ship for a few months, for the restoration of
his health, to the great joy of the officers and crew; and an acting
captain of well-known merit, was appointed in his stead.
The squadron of men-of-war and transports was collected, the commodore's
flag hoisted, and the expedition sailed with _most secret_ orders,
which, as usual, were as well known to the enemy, and everybody in
England, as they were to those by whom they were given. It is the
characteristic of our nation, that we scorn to take any unfair
advantage, or reap any benefit, by keeping our intentions a secret. We
imitate the conduct of that English tar, who, having entered a fort, and
meeting a Spanish officer without his sword, being providentially
supplied with two cut-lasses himself, immediately offered him one, that
they might engage on fair terms.
The idea is generous, but not wise. But I rather imagine that this want
of secrecy arises from all matters of importance being arranged by
cabinet councils. In the multitude of counsellors there may be wisdom,
but there certainly is not secrecy. Twenty men have probably twenty
wives, and it is therefore twenty to one but the secret transpires
through that channel. Further, twenty men have twenty tongues; and much
as we complain of women not keeping secrets, I suspect that men deserve
the odium of the charge quite as much, if not more, than women do. On
the whole, it is forty to one against secrecy, which, it must be
acknowledged, are long odds.
On the arrival of the squadron at the point of attack, a few more days
were thrown away,--probably upon the same generous principle of allowing
the enemy sufficient time for preparation. Troops had been embarked,
with the intention of landing them, to make a simultaneous attack with
the shipping. Combined expeditions are invariably attended with delay,
if not with disagreement. An officer commanding troops, who if once
landed, would be as decided in his movements as Lord Wellington himself,
does not display the same decision when out of his own element. From
his peculiar situation on board,--his officers and men distributed in
different ships,--the apparent difficulties of debarkation, easily
remedied, and despised by sailors, but magnified by landsmen,--from the
great responsibility naturally felt in a situation where he must trust
to the resources of others, and where his own, however great, cannot be
called into action,--he will not decide without much demur upon the
steps to be taken; although it generally happens, that the advice
originally offered by the naval commandant has been acceded to. Unless
the military force required is very large, marines should invariably be
employed, and placed under the direction of the naval commander.
After three or four days of _pros_ and _cons_, the enemy had completed
his last battery, and as there was then no rational excuse left for
longer delay, the debarkation took place, without any serious loss on
our side, except that of one launch, full of the --- regiment, which was
cut in halves by the enemy's shot. The soldiers, as they sank in the
water, obeyed the orders of the sergeant, and held up their
cartouch-boxes, that they might not be wetted two seconds sooner than
necessary,--held fast their muskets,--and, without stirring from the
gunnels of the boat, round which they had been stationed, went down in
as good order as could be expected, each man at his post, with his
bayonet fixed. The sailors, not being either so heavily caparisoned or
so well drilled, were guilty of a _sauve qui peut_, and were picked up
by other boats. The officer of the regiment stuck to his men, and it is
to be hoped that he marched the whole of his brave detachment to heaven,
as he often had before to church. But we must leave the troops to form
on the beach as well as they can, and the enemy's shot will permit, and
retire on board.
The commodore's arrangement had been punctually complied with. The
ships that were directed to cover the landing of the troops, knocked
down many of the enemy, and not a great many more of our own men. The
stations of the other ships were taken with a precision deserving of the
highest encomiums; and there is no doubt, that, had not the enemy had
the advantage of stone walls, they must have had the worst of it, and
would have been well beaten.
The commodore himself, of course, took the post of honour. Anchored
with springs on his cables, he alternately engaged a heavy battery on
his starboard bows, a much heavier, backed by a citadel, throwing
shells, on his beam, and a masked battery on his quarter, which he had
not reckoned upon. The latter was rather annoying, and the citadel
threw shells with most disagreeable precision. He had almost as much to
do as Lord Exmouth at Algiers, although the result was not so fortunate.
A ship engaging at anchor, with very little wind, and that wind lulled
by the percussion of the air from the report of the guns, as it always
is, has the disadvantage of not being able to disengage herself of the
smoke, which rapidly accumulates and stagnates as it were between the
decks. Under these circumstances you repeatedly hear the order passed
upon the main and lower deck of a line-of-battle ship, to point the guns
two points abaft the beam, point-blank, and so on. In fact, they are as
much in the dark as to the external objects, as if they were
blindfolded; and the only comfort to be derived from this serious
inconvenience, is, that every man is so isolated from his neighbour that
he is not put in mind of his own danger by witnessing the death of those
around him, for they may fall three or four feet from him without his
perceiving it:--so they continued to fire as directed, until they are
either sent down to the cock-pit themselves, or have a momentary respite
from their exertions, when, choked with smoke and gunpowder, they go aft
to the scuttle-butt, to remove their parching thirst. So much for the
lower and main deck. We will now ascend to the quarter-deck, where we
shall find old Adams at the conn, and little Willy standing behind him.
The smoke is not so thick here, but that you may perceive the commodore
on the poop, walking a step or two to star-board, and then turning short
round to port. He is looking anxiously through his glass at the
position of the troops, who are ashore to storm the batteries, hoping to
see a diversion in our favour made by them, as the affair becomes
serious. By a singular coincidence, the commandant of the troops on
shore is, with his telescope, looking anxiously at the shipping, hoping
the same thing from the exertions of the navy. The captain of marines
lies dead upon the poop; both his legs have been shot off by a spent
shot--he is left there, as no surgeon can help him; and there are two
signalmen lying dead alongside him.
On the hammock-nettings of the quarter-deck stands the acting captain of
the ship, erect, and proud in bearing, with an eye of defiance and scorn
as he turns towards the enemy. His advice was disregarded; but he does
his duty proudly and cheerfully. He is as cool and unconcerned as if he
were watching the flying fish as they rise from the bows of the ship,
when running down the tropics, instead of the enemy's shot, as they
splash in the water alongside, or tear open the timbers of the vessel,
and the bodies of his crew. The men still ply their half-manned guns;
but they are exhausted with fatigue, and the bloody deck proves that
many have been dismissed from their duty. The first-lieutenant is
missing; you will find him in the cock-pit--they have just finished
taking up the arteries of his right arm, which has been amputated; and
the Scotch surgeon's assistant, who for many months bewailed the want of
practice, and who, for having openly expressed his wishes on that
subject, had received a sound thrashing from the exasperated midshipmen,
is now complimenting the fainting man upon the excellent stump that they
have made for him: while fifty others, dying or wounded, with as much
variety as Homer's heroes, whose blood, trickling from them in several
rivulets, pours into one general lake at the lowest level of the deck,
are anxiously waiting their turn, and distract the purser's steward by
their loud calls, in every direction at the same time for the tin-pot of
water, with which he is relieving their agonising thirst.
A large shark is under the counter; he is so gorged with human flesh,
that he can scarcely move his tail in the tinged water; and he now hears
the sullen plunges of the bodies, as they are launched through the
lower-deck port, with perfect indifference. "Oh! what a glorious
thing's a battle!"
But to return to our particular narrative. As we mentioned before, the
citadel threw shells with remarkable precision, and every man who had
been killed on the quarter-deck of the commodore's ship, towards which
the attention of the enemy was particularly directed, had been laid low
by these horrible engines of modern warfare. The action still
continued, although the fire on both sides had evidently slackened, and
the commodore's glass had at several intervals been fruitlessly directed
towards the troops on shore, when accident brought about a change in
favour of our countrymen. Through some unknown cause, the magazine of
the enemy's largest battery exploded, and buried the fabric with its
tenants in one mass of ruin. The enemy were panic-struck with their
misfortune--our troops and sailors inspired with fresh courage--and the
fire was recommenced with three cheers and redoubled vigour. The troops
pushed on, and succeeded in taking possession of the masked battery,
which had so long and so effectually raked the commodore.
A few minutes after this had occurred, the citadel recommenced its fire,
and a shell, descending with that terrific hissing peculiar to itself
alone, struck the main-bitts on the quarter deck, and, rolling aft,
exploded. Its fragments scattered death around, and one piece took the
hat off the head of little Willy, who was standing before Adams, and
then buried itself in the old man's side. He staggered forward, and
fell on the coils of rope, near the companion-hatch; and when the men
came to assist him below, the pain of moving was so intense, that he
requested to be left where he was, that he might quietly breathe his
last.
Willy sat down beside his old friend, holding his hand.--"A little
water, boy--quick, quick!" It was soon procured by the active and
affectionate child; who, indifferent to the scene around him, thought
only of administering to the wants, and alleviating the misfortune, of
his dearest friend. Adams, after he had drunk, turned his head round,
apparently revived, and said, in a low and catching voice, as if his
powers were fast escaping, "Willy, your father's name was not Peters--I
do not know what it was; but there is a person who does, and who takes
an interest in your welfare--he lives in--"
At this moment another shell bounded through the rigging, and fell
within a few feet of the spot where Willy and old Adams were speaking.
Willy, who was seated on a coil of rope, supporting the head of his
benefactor, no sooner perceived the shell as it rolled towards the side,
with its fuse pouring out a volume of smoke, than, recollecting the
effects of the former explosion, rather than the danger of the attempt;
he ran towards it, and not being able to lift it, sank down on his
knees, and, with astonishing agility, succeeded in rolling it overboard,
out of the larboard entering-port, to which it was near. The shell
plunged into the water, and, before it had descended many feet, exploded
with a concussion that was communicated to the ship fore and aft. Our
hero then resumed his station by the side of Adams, who had witnessed
what had taken place.
"You have begun well, my boy," said the old man, faintly. "There's
ne'er a man in the ship would have done it. Kiss me, boy."
The child leaned over the old man, and kissed his cheek, clammy with the
dews of death. Adams turned a little on one side, uttered a low groan,
and expired.