An universal cry resounds aloud,
The sailors run in heaps, a helpless crowd;
Art fails, and courage falls; no succour near;
As many waves, as many deaths appear.
OVID, (DRYDEN'S TRANSLATION).
However we may be inclined to extend our admiration to the feelings of
self-devotion which governed the conduct of Captain M--- it cannot be a
matter of surprise that the officers of the frigate did not coincide
with his total indifference to self, in the discharge of his duty.
Murmur they did not; but they looked at each other, at the captain, and
at the perilous situation of the vessel, in silence, and with a restless
change of position that indicated their anxiety. Macallan was below
attending to the wounded men, or he would probably have been deputed by
the others to have remonstrated with the captain. A few minutes more
had elapsed, when the master again addressed him.
"I am afraid, sir, if we continue to stand on, that we shall lose the
frigate," said he, respectfully touching his hat.
"Be it so," replied Captain M---; "the enemy will lose a line-of-battle
ship; our country will be the gainer, when the account is balanced."
"I must be permitted to doubt that, sir; the value of the enemy's ship
is certainly greater; but there are other considerations."
"What are they?"
"The value of the respective officers and ships' companies, which must
inevitably share the fate of the two vessels. The captain of that ship
is not _worth his salt_. It would be politic to let him live, and
continue to command. His ship will always be ours, when we want it; and
in the event of a general action, he would make a gap in the enemy's
line, which might prove of the greatest importance. Now, sir, without
drawing the parallel any further,--without taking into consideration the
value of the respective officers and men,--I must take the liberty of
observing, that, on your account alone, England will be no gainer by the
loss of both vessels and crews."
"Thank you for the compliment, which, as it is only feather-weight, I
will allow to be thrown into the scale. But I do not agree with you. I
consider war but as a game of chess, and will never hesitate to
sacrifice a _knight_ for a _castle_. Provided that _castle_ is lost,
Mr Pearce," continued the captain, pointing to the French vessel--"this
little frigate, if necessary, shall be _knight-errant_ enough to bear
her company."
"Very good, sir," replied Pearce, again touching his hat; "as master of
this ship, I considered it my duty to state my opinion."
"You have done your duty, Mr Pearce, and I thank you for it; but I have
also my duties to perform. One of them is, not to allow the lives of
one ship's company, however brave and well-disciplined (and such I must
allow to be the one I have the honour to command), to interfere with the
general interests of the country we contend for. When a man enters His
Majesty's service, his life is no longer to be considered his own; it
belongs to his king and country, and is at their disposal. If we are
lost, there will be no great difficulty in collecting another ship's
company in old England, as brave and as good as this. Officers as
experienced are anxiously waiting for employment; and the Admiralty will
have no trouble in selecting and appointing as good, if not a better
captain."
The contending ships were now about two cables' length from each other,
with a high rocky coast, lashed with a tremendous surf, about
three-quarters of a mile to leeward. The promontory extended about two
points on the weatherbow of the frigate, and a low sandy tongue of land
spread itself far out on her weather quarter, so that both vessels were
completely embayed. The line-of-battle ship again made an attempt to
get up some after-sail; but the well-directed fire of the frigate,
whenever she rose on the tops of the mountainous waves, which at
intervals hid the hulls of both vessels from each other, drove the
Frenchmen from their task of safety, and it was now evident that all
command of her was lost. She rolled gunwale under, and her remaining
mast went by the board.
"Nothing can save her, now, sir," replied the master.
"No," replied the captain. "We have done our work, and must now try to
save ourselves."
"Secure the guns--be smart, my lads, you work for your lives. We must
put the mainsail on her, Mr Pearce, and draw off if we can."
The master shook his head. "Hands by the clue-garnets and buntlines--
man the mainsheet--let go those leech-lines, youngster--haul aboard."
"It's a pity, too, by God," said the captain, looking over the
hammock-rails at the French vessel, which was now running before the
wind right on to the shore.--"Eight or nine hundred poor devils will be
called to their last account in the course of a few minutes. I wish we
could save them."
"You should have thought of that before, sir," said the master, with a
grave smile at this reaction of feeling on the part of the captain.
"Nothing can save them, and I am afraid that nothing but a slant of wind
or a miracle can help ourselves."
"She has struck, sir, and is over on her broadside," said the
quarter-master, who was standing on the carronade slide.
"Mind your conn, sir; keep your eyes on the weather-leech of the sail,
and not upon that ship," answered the captain, with asperity.
In the meantime, the mainsail had been set by the first-lieutenant, and
the crew, unoccupied, had their eyes directed for a little while upon
the French vessel, which lay on her beam-ends, enveloped in spray; but
they also perceived what, during the occupation and anxiety of action,
they had not had leisure to attend to, namely, the desperate situation
of their own ship. The promontory was now broad on the weather bow, and
a reef of rocks, partly above water, extended from it to leeward of the
frigate. Such was the anxiety of the ship's company for their own
safety, that the eyes of the men were turned away from the stranded
vessel, and fixed upon the rocks. The frigate did all that a gallant
vessel could do, rising from the trough of the sea, and shaking the
water from her, as she was occasionally buried forecastle under, from
the great pressure of the sail, cleaving the huge masses of the element
with her sharp stem, and trembling fore and aft with the violence of her
own exertions. But the mountainous waves took her with irresistible
force from her chesstree, retarding her velocity, and forcing her each
moment nearer to the reef.
"Wear ship, Mr Hardy," said the captain, who had not spoken one word
since he rebuked the quarter-master--"we have but just room."
The master directed the man at the wheel to put helm up, in a firm but
subdued tone, for he was at that moment thinking of his wife and
children. The ship had just paid off and gathered fresh way, when she
struck upon a sunken rock. A loud and piercing cry from the ship's
company was followed by an enormous sea striking the frigate on the
counter, at once heeling her over and forcing her ahead, so that she
slipped off from the rock again into deep water.
"She's off again, sir," said the master.
"It's God's mercy, Mr Pearce! Bring her to the wind as soon as you
can," replied the captain, with composure. But the carpenter now ran up
the hatchway, and, with a pallid face and hurried tone, declared that
the ship was filling fast, and could not be kept afloat more than a few
minutes.
"Going down!--going down!" was spread with dreadful rapidity throughout
the ship, and all discipline and subordination appeared to be at an end.
Some of the men flew to the boats hoisted up on the quarters, and were
casting loose the ropes which secured them, with hands that were
tremulous with anxiety and fear.
"Silence there, fore and aft!" roared the captain, in the full compass
of his powerful voice. "Every man to his station. Come out of those
boats directly."
All obeyed, except one man, who still continued to cast loose the
gripes.
"Come out, sir," repeated the captain.
"Not I, by God!" replied the sailor, coolly.
The boarding-pikes, which had been lashed round the spanker-boom, had
been detached, either from the shot of the enemy, or some other means,
and were lying on the deck, close to the cabin skylight. The captain
seizing one, and poising it brandished over his head, a third time
ordered the sailor to leave the boat.
"Every man for himself, and God for us all!" was the cool answer of the
refractory seaman.
The pike flew, and entered the man's bowels up to the hilt. The poor
wretch staggered, made a snatch at the davit, missed it, and fell
backwards over the gunwale of the boat into the sea.
"My lads," said Captain M---, emphatically addressing the men, who
beheld the scene with dismay, "as long as one plank, ay, one
_toothpick_, of this vessel swims, I command, and will be obeyed.
Quarter-master, put the helm up. I have but few words to say to you, my
men. The vessel is sinking, and we must put her on the reef--boats are
useless. If she hangs together, do you hang to her as your only chance.
And now farewell, my brave fellows, for we are not all likely to meet
again. Look out for a soft place for her, Mr Pearce, if you can."
"I see but one spot where there is the least chance of her being thrown
up, sir. Starboard a little--steady!--so,"--were the cool directions of
the master, as the ship flew with increased velocity to her doom. The
captain stood on the carronade slide, from which he had addressed the
men. His mien was firm and erect--not a muscle of his countenance was
observed to change or move, as the sailors watched it as the barometer
of their fate. Awed by the dreadful punishment of the mutineer, and
restrained by their long habits of discipline, they awaited their doom
in a state of intense anxiety, but in silence.
All this latter description, however, was but the event of about two
minutes--which had barely expired, when the frigate dashed upon the
reef!