Occasionally, as the French ships were manoeuvring, alternately passing
either ahead or astern of us, there was a cessation of firing, but it
was only for a short time. Again their shot came crashing aboard.
I observed Captain Bouchier not far from me, when, just as we were
receiving a raking broadside, he staggered, and would have fallen to the
deck, had not the purser sprang forward and caught him. Directly
afterwards, the latter, summoning two men, the captain was carried
below.
On this, Captain Drury, shouting, "Keep at it, my lads! We'll beat them
off yet!" took his place, and issued the necessary orders.
Again the Frenchmen ranged up as before,--one on our beam and the other
on our quarter,--and made another attempt to board. Captain Drury,
leading our men on the starboard side, while our first lieutenant
commanded those on the other, drove them back, many falling dead on our
deck and others overboard. In a few minutes we again separated.
For four hours the action had continued (it appeared to me to be much
longer), when, as the smoke from the guns cleared away, I saw that day
was breaking.
As it showed the enemy more clearly than before our shattered and weak
condition, I could not help fearing that they would again renew the
attack, with every prospect of success.
From the numbers of the poor fellows who had been carried below wounded,
and the many who lay stretched dead on the deck in all directions, I
fancied that we must have lost half of our crew, while it seemed to me
that at any moment our shattered spars would come tumbling down on deck.
The fore-topmast hung over the bows, the main-yard was nearly cut in
two, and not a sail remained whole. Still Captain Drury and the other
officers went about encouraging the men to persevere.
When daylight increased, however, and we saw our two antagonists in
comparison to our ship but slightly injured, we knew how desperate was
our condition, yet our men stood sturdily to their guns, and blazed away
as they could be brought to bear.
While watching the two frigates, I observed signals exchanged between
them, and almost immediately afterwards, to our astonishment, they
hauled their tacks aboard, and stood away from us. Our nearly exhausted
crew, on seeing this, cheered again and again.
"We must not be too sure that they don't intend to come back again when
they have repaired damages, and renew the fight," said Nettleship to me.
"We will hope for the best, and if they do, try to beat them off again,"
I answered.
"That's the right spirit, Paddy," said Nettleship. "Please Heaven, we
shall do so."
"Hurrah! hurrah! We've licked the Frenchmen," I heard Larry shouting.
"Give them another cheer, boys! Hurrah! hurrah!" and the men round him
joined in his hurrahs.
The men were still allowed to remain at their quarters, for it was yet
difficult to say what the enemy would do next. We watched them
anxiously, for even the most fire-eating of our men had no wish for more
fighting, as by no possibility could we hope to capture either of the
frigates. When some way astern they joined company, and we saw them
standing to the westward. They got farther and farther off, and
gradually their hulls sank below the horizon. We were now ordered to
secure the guns. This done, the dead hove overboard, and the decks
washed down, all hands were employed in knotting and securing the
running and standing rigging, and strengthening the wounded spars. I
asked one of the assistant-surgeons, who came on deck to get a little
fresh air, if he knew how the captain was going on.
"He has a desperate wound in the arm, but is likely to do well," he
answered.
He told me, besides, that there were six-and-twenty wounded men below,
while nineteen had been killed. From the number of shot the Frenchmen
fired at us, I supposed that we had lost many more. A large proportion
of the shot, however, had flown over our heads, and injured only our
sails and rigging. The ship was but partially put to rights when
another night closed in. I found it difficult enough even during my
watch to keep my eyes open, and the moment I turned in to my hammock I
was fast asleep. I suspect that all on board, both officers and men,
were equally drowsy. I had not to turn out again till the hammocks were
piped up.
When I came on deck I found that the weather had changed. Dark clouds
were rushing across the sky, the sea had got up, and the ship was
rolling and pitching into it. The wind was from the southward. Two
reefs had been taken in the topsails, but from the way the ship heeled
over it was evident that she had more canvas on her than she could
carry.
Captain Drury had just come on deck.
"We must shorten sail," he said to the first lieutenant.
"Hands aloft," he shouted.
Just at that moment, as the men were about to spring into the rigging, a
tremendous blast struck the ship, and over she heeled.
"Up with the helm!" cried Captain Drury.
The ship did not answer it, but heeled over more and more. I thought
she was about to share the fate of the _Cerberus_, The moment afterwards
a heavy sea came roaring up, a succession of crashes was heard, the
masts went by the board, and she rose on an even keel, the wheel flying
round and sending the men at it across the deck. The rudder had been
carried away, and the ship lay a helpless wreck on the stormy ocean.
The men looked at each other, with blank dismay in their countenances,
but our brave commander did his best to conceal his anxiety, and the
officers followed his example.
"Clear away the wreck, lads; the gale won't last long, and when the wind
goes down we must try to get up jury-masts and repair the rudder," he
cried out.
All hands were now employed in trying to save some of the spars, and to
cut the masts clear, for their butts were striking with fearful force on
our larboard side, already shattered by the shot of the enemy. While we
were thus employed, the carpenter and his mates, who had been below,
came on deck, and went up to the captain. I saw by his looks as he
passed me that something was the matter. Directly afterwards the order
was given to man the pumps, and they were set clanging away as fast as
they could be made to work. The quantity of water gushing out showed
that the ship must be leaking at a rapid rate. There was so much work
to do that but few words were spoken. I happened to meet Larry.
"Cheer up, Mr Terence," he exclaimed. "Things look mighty bad; but
though our ship went to the bottom we were saved, and I'm after hoping
that we'll be saved again. It would be hard to have beaten the enemy
and yet to lose her."
"I don't expect that we shall do that," I answered. "The wind is fair
for Nova Scotia, and when we get up jury-masts and rig a new rudder, we
may be able to get her along."
Though I said this, I confess that I was not very sure about it. Things
didn't improve. The sea increased, the wind blew stronger and stronger,
and though the pumps were kept going without cessation, we could not get
the water under. It came in faster and faster. The reports from the
sick bay were also disheartening. Several of the poor fellows who had
left their hammocks to fight had since succumbed, and many others were
following them. The wounded, who might have done well under other
circumstances, dropped off one by one. The only satisfactory
intelligence was the state of the captain, who, though so badly wounded,
was progressing favourably. The day after the gale commenced ten men
died, and the following a still larger number. It was sad to see them
lashed in their hammocks as they were slid overboard. There was no time
for any funeral ceremonies. Even the healthiest among us looked pale
and broken in spirits. On the fourth or fifth day, I think it was, from
that on which the gale commenced, the purser's steward, on getting up
provisions, found that the salt water had spoiled all the bread, while
many of the casks with fresh water had broken loose and their contents
were lost.
To try and stop the leaks, Captain Drury ordered the only spare mainsail
to be fothered and drawn under the ship's bottom. To prepare it a
quantity of oakum was spread over the sail, and stitched down by the
sail-makers, thus forming what seemed like an enormous mat. This was
lowered over the bows, and gradually hauled under the ship's bottom,
where the leaks were supposed to be the worst. We all looked anxiously
for the result. Though, in addition to the pumps, a gang of men were
set to bale, the water still continued to gain on us. In spite of this,
neither officers nor men appeared to lose heart.
"The gale will come to an end some day," cried Captain Drury, "and we
must keep the ship afloat till then. We should be cowards to give in."
He did his best to speak in his usual cheery tone, but even his voice
was more husky than usual, and it was easy to see that he didn't say
what he thought. At last many of the men were seen to desert the pumps.
"Come, Paddy," said Tom Pim, "we must not let them do that. You and I
will take their places and shame them back."
We turned to, and worked away till our arms ached. "Spell ho!" we
cried, and, catching hold of two men, we dragged them back to the pumps.
Nettleship did the same with others. The lieutenants were constantly
going about trying to keep the crew at work. Some of them behaved
exactly as those aboard the _Cerberus_ had done before she was lost, and
were about to lash themselves into their hammocks. The first lieutenant
and the boatswain, going round, quickly routed them out, and they
returned to their duty, either to pump or bale.
The carpenter and his mates, assisted by the boatswain, were attempting
to get at the leaks, but even they at last abandoned their efforts on
finding them hopeless.
Captain Drury, who had been to visit Captain Bouchier, now returned on
deck, and ordered the guns to be hove overboard to lighten the ship.
All hands not engaged in pumping were employed in this duty. One by one
they were sent plunging into the sea, and the big seventy-four was left
at the mercy of the smallest privateer afloat. This gave the ship
relief, and our hopes rose of saving her. Of late we had been on the
smallest possible allowance of water, and now, to our dismay, the purser
announced that the last cask was expended. Nor could wine or spirits be
got at owing to the quantity of water in the hold. We had beef and
pork, but the bread was all spoiled; thus, even should we keep the ship
afloat, we ran the risk of dying of hunger and thirst. Of the crew of
the _Hector_, which had consisted of three hundred men when my
companions and I got on board, nearly one hundred had been killed in
action, or had since died, and still others were dropping off fast.
Day after day went by. We had known when in the boat what it was to
suffer from thirst, but I now felt it more severely. Even Nettleship
owned to me that he didn't think he could get through another day.
"I don't know whether either of us will survive, Paddy," he said, "but
if you do, I want you to write to my mother and sister, who live near
Plymouth, to tell them what happened to me, and that I thought of them
to the last; and should be thankful if you could just get some one to
let the Admiralty know that Jack Nettleship did his duty while life
remained."
I tried to cheer him up, at the same time promising to carry out his
wishes if I should survive him. I fancy a good many, both of officers
and men, were feeling as he did. Still, no one I saw showed any signs
of cowardly apprehension. Our chief work was now to keep the men at the
pumps and baling. It was only by the constant efforts of the officers
that they could be induced to remain at their stations; and when "Spell
ho!" was cried, and a fresh gang was ordered to take their places, the
people relieved staggered away, and fell down on the deck like drunken
men. The others, after labouring away for some time, relaxed in their
exertions. Nettleship and I were standing near, occasionally taking a
turn to help them. One poor fellow fell down. We ran forward to lift
him up, but he was dead. We could only just drag him out of the way and
call to another to take his place. Before many minutes were over
another fell in the same way, dying at the post of duty, as heroically
as if he had been standing at his gun. One of the lieutenants, who just
then came up, called the surgeon to examine them. He came at once, but
his efforts proved ineffectual to restore the men, and they were soon
sent to join a number of their shipmates in their ocean grave. Two or
three others, I heard, died in the same manner, when I was not present.
The gun-room had become uninhabitable from the water washing through it.
We had to move up to the ward-room. The deck below us was fast
sinking. The carpenter reported that some of the beams of the orlop
deck had fallen into the hold, though they must have done so gradually,
for we had heard no sound to account for what had taken place. Indeed,
the loud noise of the seas beating against the ship, and the water
washing about in the hold, prevented any noises except the loudest from
being heard. We all now knew that the ship was sinking. Only by the
greatest exertions could she be kept afloat to prolong our lives for a
few hours. Still no one talked of giving in.
Captain Bouchier, wounded as he was, got up and went about, encouraging
both officers and men. The spirit he and Captain Drury displayed
encouraged us all. For three days we had none of us tasted a drop of
water or spirits. We could judge by our own sufferings the fearful
agonies the sick and wounded must be enduring. Not one would have
survived, had not the surgeon discovered a few bottles of claret, which
the captain insisted should be reserved for them, and though he required
it as much as any one, he would not touch a drop himself.
The third day since the water had been exhausted came to an end, and few
of us expected to see another sunrise. That night was a dreadful one.
The loud lashing of the sea against the side, the creaking of the
bulkheads, the ominous sounds which came from the depths of the ship,
the groans and cries of the sick and dying, heard at intervals, the
ceaseless clanging of the pumps, rang in our ears as we lay, during our
watch below, on our damp beds extended on the ward-room deck. The
night, however, did come to an end, and we found ourselves still alive,
though the ship had evidently sunk lower since the previous day. I
joined Nettleship on deck, for we naturally kept together as much as we
could. I found that the wind was still blowing strongly, and the sea
running high, although it had lately somewhat gone down. Nothing could
be seen around but the leaden-coloured foaming seas rising and sinking
between us and the horizon. On comparing notes, my two messmates and I
agreed that we didn't suffer nearly so much from thirst as we had done
in the boat. Such provisions as could be got at were served out, but
none of us cared much for food, though we ate what we could to keep up
our strength. We were soon summoned to watch and assist the men at the
pumps and buckets, for even now, not for an instant were they allowed to
relax in their exertions. Captain Bouchier, weak as he was, went
frequently amongst them.
"Keep at it, my lads!" cried Nettleship; "while there's life there's
hope. If we can keep the ship afloat for a short time longer, it may
make all the difference whether we save our lives or perish. Cheer up,
lads, cheer up! Show that you're British seamen to the last!"
The men uttered a faint cheer when the captain, leaning on the purser's
arm, returned.
Captain Drury, who had fought the ship so bravely after Captain Bouchier
was wounded, was the life and soul of all on board.
Noon had passed, and still the stout ship lay rolling in the trough of
the sea. Inch by inch the water was rising, and we knew that if we were
to cease pumping and baling, it would gain upon us still more rapidly.
Already despair could be seen on nearly every countenance.
Notwithstanding, few, if any, flinched from their work. Those who
spoke, talked of home and friends whom they never expected to see again.
Some shook hands, believing that at any moment the ship might make the
last fatal plunge, and sink beneath the waves.
Larry was now like my shadow, wherever I went, he followed, no one
preventing him, except when he had to take his turn at the pumps or
buckets.
Some of the officers had written letters addressed to friends or
relatives, and were enclosing them in bottles headed up in small casks,
so that some record might be preserved of our fate. Nettleship had
prepared one.
"Have you anything to say to your friends at Ballinahone, Paddy?" he
asked.
"Yes; beg your mother to write to them, and say that I send my love to
all, not forgetting my uncle the major, and that I have been thinking
much of them to-day," I answered, as well as I could speak with the
choking sensation in my throat.
"And please, Mr Nettleship, may I be so bold as to axe you to put in a
word about Larry Harrigan, and to say that he stuck to Mr Terence to
the last, and that if he couldn't save him, it wasn't the will that was
wanting, but the cruel say was too much for us at last."
"And put in a word to my family,--you know their address," said Tom;
"just my love, and that I was thinking of them. They'll know that I was
likely to have done my duty as far as I could, so I won't trouble you
with a longer message."
Just as Nettleship had returned to the gun-room to add the messages to
his letter, there came a shout from the poop--
"A sail! a sail!"
Many of the officers rushed up to take a look at her. Tom Pim and I
followed them. We could make her out clearly,--a small vessel, right
away to windward. The question was whether she would see us.
Captain Drury also had his telescope on her.
Now she was hidden by the seas which rose up between us; now she came
clearly into view, her hull almost visible.
"She's standing this way," said Captain Drury, "and I believe has made
us out, but of that we can't be certain. However, we must not relax in
our efforts to keep the ship afloat, for it may be many hours before we
can get aboard her."
I should have said that we had had a spar secured to the stump of the
mainmast, to which an ensign with a jack downwards had been nailed from
the first, in the hopes of attracting the attention of any passing
vessel.
Captain Bouchier, who had been informed that a sail was in sight, now
came up to have a look at her, but almost immediately went down again
among the men.
"Lads," he said, "your exertions will be rewarded, I hope; but you must
not slacken in them, or your labours may be thrown away. We may keep
the ship afloat many hours longer if you bale and pump as sturdily as
heretofore. By that time the sea may have gone down, and we may manage
to get aboard the vessel in her boats, though she probably will not
venture alongside."
The men received his address with a faint cheer, and turned to again at
the pumps, while those employed in baling passed the buckets to and fro
with greater alacrity even than before.
I occasionally ran up on deck to see how near she was getting. I know
my heart bounded when I saw the English flag flying out at her peak.
She appeared to be a good-sized merchantman, a "snow," and I heard some
of the officers who had been looking through their glasses say that she
had guns aboard.
On hearing my report when I returned, some of the men burst into tears,
others shouted for joy and shook each other by the hand, believing that
our deliverance was near.
Night was now coming on. The sea still ran too high to allow of boats
laden with men to pass from one vessel to the other. For the same
reason it was impossible for the stranger to come near enough to take
any of us off. Many would very probably perish in the attempt, even if
the snow should escape being hove against us and stove in.
Again I ran up. All those on deck were now stretching out their hands
towards her. She came close enough for the voice of her captain--who
stood on the poop--to be heard through his speaking-trumpet.
"I'll stay by you during the night," he shouted. "The sea is going
down. In the morning I'll take you off,--please God."
The last words reached us as the stranger surged by, close under our
lee. She then hove-to at a safe distance. Eager eyes were turned
towards her before the light altogether faded away, and many looked as
if they were tempted to leap overboard and swim to her. Thirsty,
hungry, and weary as we were, we would gladly have knocked off baling;
but the captain wisely ordered us to keep at it as long as we remained
on board.
"You can't tell, my lads, when the bucketful will leak in that will send
her to the bottom," he said, and the men again turned to. He ordered,
however, the carpenter to patch up such of the boats as could be made
serviceable enough to float even for a short time, so that they might be
employed in carrying us aboard the snow. Without the masts the launch
could not be got off the deck, but we had three other boats fit to be
repaired; all the others had been completely knocked to pieces. No one
slept at all events during that night, for we were all kept spell and
spell at the pumps and buckets. The certainty that relief was at hand
if we kept afloat, inspired us with renewed strength. When morning
dawned the snow came as close as she could venture. Three of her boats
approached and pulled towards us. The order was now given for the men
to prepare for leaving the ship. Sentries were placed at the gangways
to prevent any crowding in till they received the order to go down the
side, but this was unnecessary. The few survivors of the sick and
wounded were first lowered into the boats, with the surgeons to attend
them. The boys and midshipmen were then ordered to go down the side,
the names of all being called in succession. As soon as the snow's
boats were filled and had pulled away, ours were lowered. Tom Pim and I
went, with Larry, in one of them, Nettleship having charge of her. I
looked up at the old ship. She seemed to be settling fast. The water
came out of the scuppers, showing that, according to the captain's
orders, the hands were still at the pumps. There was no hurry, yet all
was done rapidly. The moment we shoved off our crew gave way, and we
were soon aboard the snow. While Nettleship returned for more men, Tom
and I stood watching them anxiously. It seemed even now that before
they could escape the ship would go down. Though the sea had much
decreased, there was no little danger, while the boats were alongside
the _Hector_, of their being swamped. As fast as they could the boats
went backwards and forwards, taking their cargoes in through the lower
ports. I saw Captain Drury and the first lieutenant pressing Captain
Bouchier to leave the ship, but in spite of his wound he insisted on
remaining to the last. Our men, as they arrived, stood watching the
ship from the deck of the snow, and gave a cheer as they saw him
descending, the last man, into the cutter, for they knew that not a soul
was left on board the gallant _Hector_, Scarcely had the captain been
helped up the side, than we saw the ship's head begin to sink. Lower
and lower it went, then down she plunged, her ensign flying from the
spar secured to the stump of her mainmast, streaming upwards, alone
showing us the spot where she was sinking into the depths of the ocean.
A groan escaped from the breasts of many of those who had long sailed in
her. We found that we were on board the _Hawk_ snow, a letter-of-marque
belonging to Dartmouth, Captain John Hill, and bound from Lisbon to
Saint John's, Newfoundland. When Captain Bouchier expressed his
gratitude to the master for receiving him and his people, the reply
was--
"Don't talk of it, sir; I'm but doing my duty. I would wish to be
treated the same way by others."
Besides his own crew of five-and-twenty men, he had now two hundred of
the _Hector's_ on board. We had brought neither provisions nor water,
and were still many a long league from our port. The _Hawk_ had
fortunately hitherto had a quick passage. We had, therefore, more
provisions and water on board than would otherwise have been the case.
Still two hundred mouths in addition was a large number to feed, yet
neither the captain nor his ship's company grumbled or made the
slightest complaint. To stow us all away was the difficulty. To solve
it, the captain at once ordered his men to heave overboard the more
bulky portion of his cargo. His owners, he said, would not complain,
for he himself was the principal one, and he trusted to the justice of
his country to replace his loss. We were, of course, put on an
allowance, but after the starvation we had endured, it appeared
abundance. Even when the cargo had been got rid of it was unpleasantly
close stowing for most of us, but we had great reason to be thankful to
Heaven for having escaped with our lives. The officers and crew of the
_Hawk_ treated us with the greatest kindness; most of our poor fellows,
indeed, required help, and were unable to move about the deck by
themselves. The wind, however, continued fair, and those who had
abundant sleep recovered their spirits. Still several died, worn out by
fatigue and sickness. We were safe for the present, and we did not
allow ourselves to recollect that another gale might spring up before we
could reach Saint John's, to which port we were bound, or that contrary
winds might keep us from our port, and that, after all, we might perish
from hunger and thirst. I was talking of what we should do when we got
ashore.
"Wait till we are there, Paddy," said Nettleship. "I don't say that we
shall not reach it, but we may not. That noble fellow, Hill, knows that
such may be the case as well as I do; and I admire his calmness, and the
care he takes not to show us that he fears he and his people may suffer
the fate from which they rescued our ship's company. You see they are
all put on the same allowance that we are, yet not one of them
complains."
I heartily agreed with him. Shortly afterwards I asked Nettleship what
he had done with his letter.
"I left it in the cask aboard, Paddy," he answered. "So in case we're
lost, our friends will know our whereabouts, though they'll not hear of
our being rescued, and the chance we have had of escaping; but that
won't matter much, though I should like to have made Hill's conduct
known."
Never, perhaps, did seamen watch the weather more anxiously than we did.
Our lives, as far as we could see, depended on the winds. Already the
stock of provisions and water was getting low, and it was necessary to
diminish the allowance of both. Still the crew of the _Hawk_ would only
receive the same quantity that we did. The sun rose and set, and again
rose, and we sailed on. Mr Hill met us each morning at breakfast, his
honest countenance beaming with kindness, and jocularly apologised for
the scantiness of the fare. Even he, however, one morning looked grave;
the wind had fallen, and we lay becalmed. He had good reason to be
grave, for he knew what we did not, that he had only one cask of water
left, and provisions scarcely sufficient for a couple of days.
"I have come away without fish-hooks," he observed. "If I had had them,
gentlemen, I might have given you cod for dinner; and I promise you I'll
never be without them again, when I make this voyage."
"Then I only hope, captain, that you'll take us up again if we happen to
have our ship sinking under us," I said, at which there was a general
laugh.
As we had nothing else to do, all hands employed themselves in whistling
for a breeze. Just before the sun again rose, a cheering shout was
heard from the masthead--
"Land! land!"
In a short time the rocky coast of Newfoundland rose on the larboard
bow, and we stood along to the northward for Saint John's harbour, on
the east coast. Before evening we were passing through the Narrows, a
passage leading to the harbour, with perpendicular precipices rising to
a considerable height on either side. Passing under Fort Amhurst, a
voice came off hailing--
"Where are you from? What length of passage?"
The answer announcing, "We have on board the officers and crew of H.M.S.
_Hector_," evidently caused considerable excitement, and signals were
made to a post on the top of a lofty hill on the right side, whence the
information was conveyed to the town.
Before we dropped our anchor, the last cask of water was emptied, the
last particle of food consumed.
The moment we brought up, the vessel was surrounded by boats, the news
of our arrival having preceded us. Before landing, all the officers
again expressed their thanks to our gallant preserver, who, I hope,
received the reward he so well merited, from our Government, we
ourselves being unable to offer him any. None of us, indeed, had more
than the clothes we wore, and a few articles we had been able to carry
off with us from the wreck.
We were received with the greatest kindness and hospitality by the
inhabitants of Saint John's. Nettleship, Tom, and I were lodged
together in the house of a merchant, whose wife and daughters, pitying
our condition, did everything they could to restore us to health.
Certainly we were very unlike the gay midshipmen we appeared when we
sailed from Jamaica. Both the young ladies were very nice girls; but
Tom confided to me that his heart had become hard as adamant since
Lucy's cruel treatment of him.
"It will soften by and by, Tom," I answered, laughing, though I could
not say that I felt mine inclined to yield to their attractions.
We agreed, however, that Nettleship, as we thought, would knock under.
What might have been the case I don't know; but as soon as the men had
somewhat recovered from their hardships,--there being no man-o'-war
likely to call off the place,--the captain chartered two merchant brigs
to convey himself and the survivors of the _Hector_ to Halifax, Nova
Scotia, whence he expected to get a passage home for us to England.
Nettleship, Tom, and I, accompanied by Larry, had to go on board the
_Jane_, one of the vessels, of which Captain Drury went in charge; while
Captain Bouchier, though still not recovered from his wound, went in the
other, the _John Thomas_.
I did not mention it at the time, but Larry had managed to save his
riddle uninjured when he left the _Hector_, and his appearance with it
under his arm afforded no small amount of satisfaction to the crew of
the _Jane_.
The _John Thomas_ proved a much faster sailer than the brig, and soon
ran ahead of us. We had just lost sight of Cape Race when a sail was
made out, standing towards us from the southward.
"I don't like her looks," observed Nettleship to me, as she approached.
"I shouldn't be surprised if she proves to be a French privateer."
The captain appeared to be of this opinion, for, after: examining the
stranger through his glass, he ordered all the sail we could carry to be
set, and stood away right before the wind, to the north-west. The
stranger, however, came up with us hand over hand. In a short time the
French ensign was seen blowing out at her peak, leaving no doubt as to
her character.
"We must not be taken, lads. I trust to you to fight to the last,
before we strike our flag," cried the captain.
The crew cheered, and promised to do their best.
The _Jane_ had six nine-pounders, while the enemy carried twice as many
guns, evidently of much heavier metal. As a few men only were required
to work them, the captain ordered the rest to go under shelter. Tom and
I were among those ordered below. In a short time we heard our guns go
off, and the shot of the enemy came rattling on board. Presently there
came a crash, and we guessed that the privateer had run us alongside.
"On deck, lads!" cried the captain. "Boarders, repel boarders."
At the summons we eagerly rushed up through every hatchway, to see a
number of Frenchmen swarming on board; but they didn't get far beyond
the bulwarks before they were driven back, we in return boarding them.
Tom and I led our men into the fore part of the vessel. More and more
of our fellows followed. The Frenchmen gave way, some leaped below,
others ran aft, where they encountered Nettleship and his party; in less
than five minutes the privateer was ours, and Larry, shouting--
"Wallop-a-hoo-aboo! Erin go bragh!" hauled down her colours.
The enemy had so completely been taken by surprise, that they had
offered but a slight resistance, and few, therefore, had lost their
lives, while we had only half a dozen wounded. Captain Drury, with
two-thirds of our men, went on board the prize, retaining the larger
number of our prisoners; while Nettleship, Tom, and I remained in the
_Jane_, with orders to follow close astern.
"We must take care, Paddy, that our prisoners don't play us the same
trick yours played you," said Nettleship. "They would like to try it,
no doubt."
We had thirty prisoners to look after.
"I'll take remarkably good care that they don't do that," I answered;
"and to make sure, it would be as well to keep them in durance vile till
we reach Halifax."
The Frenchmen grumbled at finding that they were to have their arms
lashed behind them, and be kept below under charge of a couple of
sentries. They were somewhat more contented when we fed them carefully,
and told them that it was because we considered them brave fellows, and
felt sure that if they had the opportunity they would take the brig from
us, that we were obliged to treat them so unceremoniously. Fortunately
the wind held fair, and we had a quick passage to Halifax, where we
arrived before the harbour was frozen up. Of course we gained great
credit for our last exploit at that favourite naval station.
We found the _Maidstone_ frigate just about to sail for England, on
board of which all who were well enough were ordered home. We were
pretty considerably crowded, but we were a merry set, and had plenty to
talk about. The midshipmen of the _Maidstone_, which had been for some
time at Halifax, spoke warmly of the kindness they had received, and of
the fascinations of the young ladies of the place, except an old mate
and an assistant-surgeon, who declared that they had been abominably
treated, and jilted by half-a-dozen whose hearts they thought they had
won.
Old Grumpus, the master's mate, was especially bitter. "Look here," he
said, producing a sketch which he had made. "See these old ladies
seated on chairs on the quay, watching their daughters fishing. There
are a dozen girls at least, with long rods and hooks, baited with all
sorts of odds and ends. And see what sort of fish they're after,--naval
officers--marine officers--and of all ranks, from an admiral down to a
young midshipman. And there's a stout dame--she can't be called a young
lady exactly--casting her hook towards a sturdy boatswain.
"`Look here,' one of them cries out, `mother, mother, I've got a bite.'
"`Play him, my dear,' cries the mother, `till you see what he is.'
"`Oh, mother, mother!' she cries out presently, `I've caught a
midshipman.'
"`Throw him in, my dear, he's no good,' answered the old lady.
"Presently another sings out, `Mother, I've got a bite. I'm sure it's
from a lieutenant, from the way he pulls.'
"`Let him hang on a little, my dear,' says the mother; `may be if you
see a commander or a post-captain swimming by, you may cast him off, and
hook one of the others instead.'
"Presently a fourth cries out, `Oh, mother, I've hooked a captain!'
"`Run, Jane, run, and help your sister to land him,' cries Mrs
Thingamebob; and just see the way they're doing it, so as not to
frighten him, and make him turn tail.
"At last another shouts, `Mother, I've hooked a master's mate.'
"`Then go and cut the line, Susan. Don't let Nancy land that brute, on
any account. He's the worst of the lot.'
"And so it goes on," exclaimed old Grumpus. "However, to my mind
they're all alike. Why, while we have been there a dozen officers from
different ships have been and got spliced. It's lucky for you fellows
that you were not there long, or you would have been and done it, and
repented it all your lives afterwards."
During the voyage old Grumpus brought out his sketch a score of times,
and repeated his story as often, with numerous variations, which
afforded us all much amusement. He had anecdotes of other descriptions
without end to tell, most of them hingeing on the bad way the junior
officers of the service were treated. He didn't say that most of those
junior officers were rough diamonds like himself, who would have been
much better off if they had not been placed on the quarter-deck.
We had a somewhat long and stormy passage, and were half frozen to death
before it was over, most of us who had been for years in the West Indies
being little prepared for cold weather. We should have been much worse
off, however, in a line-of-battle ship, but in the midshipmen's berth we
managed to keep ourselves tolerably warm when below. At length we
sighted the coast of Ireland.
"Hurrah, Mr Terence! There's the old country," said Larry, throwing up
his hat in his excitement, and nearly losing it overboard. "If the
captain would only put into Cork harbour, we would be at home in two or
three days, and shure they'd be mighty pleased to see us at Ballinahone.
What lashings of whisky, and pigs, and praties they'd be after eating
and drinking in our honour, just come home from the wars. Och! I wish
we were there, before a blazing turf fire, with the peat piled up, and
every one of them red and burning, instead of being out here with these
cold winds almost blowing our teeth down our throats."
The picture Larry drew made me more than ever wish to get home. Not
that I was tired of a sea life, though I had found it a pretty hard one
in some respects; but I longed to see my father, and mother, and
brothers, and sisters again, and my kind uncle the major, as I had not
heard from them for many a long day. Letters in those days were
conveyed to distant stations very irregularly. I had only received two
all the time I had been away. Indeed, friends, knowing the great
uncertainty which existed of letters reaching, thought it scarcely worth
while to write them. We could just see the land, blue and indistinct,
over our larboard bow, when the wind veered to the eastward, and instead
of standing for Plymouth, as we expected to do, we were kept knocking
about in the Chops of the Channel for three long weeks, till our water
was nearly exhausted, and our provisions had run short. There we were,
day after day, now standing on one tack, now on another, never gaining
an inch of ground. Every morning the same question was put, and the
same answer given--
"Blowing as hard as ever, and right in our teeth."
We sighted a number of merchant vessels, and occasionally a man-of-war,
homeward-bound from other stations, but all were as badly off as we
were.
At last one morning the look-out at the masthead shouted, "A sail to the
eastward coming down before the wind." It was just possible she might
be an enemy. The drum beat to quarters, and the ship was got ready for
action. On getting nearer, however, she showed English colours, and we
then made out her number to be that of the _Thetis_ frigate. As soon as
we got near each other we both hove-to. Though there was a good deal of
sea running, two of our boats were soon alongside her to obtain water,
and some casks of bread and beef, for, as far as we could tell to the
contrary, we might be another month knocking about where we were. In
the meantime, one of her boats brought a lieutenant on board us.
"Peace has been signed between Great Britain and France," were almost
the first words he uttered when he stepped on deck. "I can't give
particulars, but all I know is, that everything we have been fighting
for is to remain much as it was before. We are to give up what we have
taken from the French, and the French what they have taken from us, and
we are to shake hands and be very good friends. There has been great
rejoicing on shore, and bonfires and feasts in honour of the event."
I can't say that the news produced any amount of satisfaction to those
on board the _Maidstone_.
"Then my hope of promotion has gone," groaned Nettleship; "and you,
Paddy, will have very little chance of getting yours, for which I'm
heartily sorry; for after the creditable way in which you have behaved
since you came to sea, I fully expected to see you rise in your
profession, and be an honour to it."
"What's the use of talking to sucking babies like Paddy and Tom here
about their promotion, in these piping times of peace which are coming
on us," cried old Grumpus, "if we couldn't get ours while the war was
going on?"