My readers do not, I hope, expect from me a full, true, and particular
account of the glorious sea-fight of October 11, 1797, off Camperdown;
for if they do, they will be sadly disappointed. Indeed, it seems to
me, the worst person to describe a battle is one who has fought in it.
For if he does his duty, he has no eyes for any business but his own;
and as to seeing what is happening along the entire line at any time, it
would take an eagle poised in mid-air, with eyes that could penetrate a
cloud of smoke, to do it honestly. I am no eagle, and my eyes can carry
no further than those of any other plain mortal. I can tell only what I
saw. For the rest, the eagles have written their story in books, where
any one can read all about the famous victory--and more than all.
There was little time to observe anything in the bustle of our putting
out from Yarmouth. The ship was not yet clear of the confusion of her
hurried refitting and revictualling. Stores lay about which needed
stowing; there were new sails to bend and old ropes to splice; there
were decks to swab and guns to polish, hammocks to sling, and ammunition
to give out. Yet all worked with so hearty a will, and looked forward
so joyously, after eighteen weeks' idleness, to a brush with the enemy,
that before sundown all was nearly taut and ship-shape. If anything
could help, it was the kindly nod and cheery word of our admiral himself
as he paced to and fro among us. A beautiful man he was--a giant to
look at, and as gentle as he was tall; yet with a flash in his eye, as
he turned his face seaward, that told us that there was not a man in the
ship who looked forward with more boyish eagerness to the brush ahead
than he. Though it was but for a week, I hold it to this day something
to be able to say that I have served under Duncan.
Had I been in the mood to stand on my dignity, I might have felt
affronted to find myself set to do ordinary seaman's work on board the
_Venerable_. For in the hurry of our setting out from Yarmouth there
was time neither to report myself nor to choose my work. I was no
sooner on board than I was hurried forward to set the fore-courses; and
no sooner was that done than a mop was put into my hands to swab the
main-deck; and no sooner was that done than I was told off to carry
stores below. At any rate, it was better than a Dutch prison, and,
thought I, a common sailor under Duncan is better than a lieutenant
under Mr Adrian. Time enough when prizes were towed into port to stand
out for dignities.
The next day, the tenth, despite the strong north-wester, our fleet,
which numbered fourteen sail of the line, held well together for the
Texel, picking up one or two fresh consorts during the day, and beating
about now and again in expectation of news of the longed-for enemy. We
saw nothing but a few merchantmen; and the admiral was beginning to fear
that, after all, the Dutchmen had given us the slip, and made off to
join forces with the French fleet at Brest, when an armed lugger, flying
a signal, hove in sight, and reported that the Dutch admiral was only a
few leagues away to the south.
The joy on board was indescribable; and as night closed in, and we stood
out on the starboard tack, the certainty that daybreak would discover
the enemy was almost as great a cause for jubilation as if we had
already won our victory.
Eager as we were, however, the admiral ordered all of us who were not on
the watch below, charging us to get sleep while we could, and lay
provender on board, for we had hungry work before us.
The first lieutenant called me to him as I was turning in.
"Mr Gallagher," he said, "I have only just had time to go over the
names of the last comers in the ship's books. I see you hold rank as a
warrant-officer."
"I was boatswain to the _Zebra_, sir," said I.
"So I see. It does you credit that you have worked so cheerfully at the
first work that came to hand. But to-morrow we shall want our best men
at their right posts. The _Venerable_ has a boatswain already; but
Captain Fairfax has ordered me to look up double hands for the helm. Be
good enough to report yourself to the sailing-master at daybreak. We
have our work cut out for us, I fancy, and much will depend on the
smartness with which the admiral's signals are read and his ship
handled. So you may take the duty as a compliment, Mr Gallagher; and
good-night to you."