When morning broke, a scene of fearful havoc was exhibited. Numbers of
men were seen in the midst of the flames imploring relief, others
floating on pieces of timber; and even those on board the ships where
the fire had made but little progress were entreating to be taken off.
Captain Curtis, on seeing this, regardless of the danger he was running,
or that those in distress were enemies, embarked with several of his
boats to their assistance. They boldly boarded the burning ships and
rescued the perishing crews. While engaged in this glorious service,
one of the largest of the ships blew up, scattering its fragments far
and wide around. One English gunboat was sunk, and another was
considerably damaged. A piece of timber falling struck a hole in the
bottom of the barge in which was Captain Curtis. His coxswain was
killed, and two of his crew wounded, and the boat would have sunk had
not the seamen stuck their jackets into the hole. By these means she
was kept afloat till other boats came to their assistance. Don Moreno
left his flag flying on board his ship, and it was consumed with her.
The English garrison had sixty-five killed and four hundred wounded, and
the naval brigade only one killed and five wounded. Soon after this a
heavy gale from the southward sprang up, dispersing the enemy's fleet.
A fine seventy-four was driven close under the Rock, when, after a few
shots, she struck. Others received much damage. The garrison was
finally relieved by the fleet under Lord Howe, who attacked the French
and Spaniards, and gave them a severe drubbing. They managed, however,
to escape, and stood up the Mediterranean, where Lord Howe didn't
consider it prudent to follow them. Tom Pim and I agreed that we wished
we had been there. When we had gone over the place, we were not so much
surprised as we might have been at its having been able, with so small a
garrison, to resist the enormous force brought against it. The
Spaniards received a lesson at that time which they have never since
forgotten.
All now looked peaceable and quiet. The country people came jogging on
their mules across the neutral ground up to the forts, and seemed on
perfectly good terms with their old enemies. After spending a week at
Gibraltar, we steered for the Bay of Naples, Lord Robert intending, we
heard, to pay his respects to the king and queen of that very
insignificant state, and to give an entertainment to their majesties.
Cork harbour is a fine place, but the Bay of Naples, we all agreed, beat
it hollow.
Lord Robert went on shore, and was, we suppose, received by the king and
queen, for two days afterwards we were ordered to dress the ship with
flags, and to rig an awning over the quarter-deck, so as to turn it into
what looked very much like a tent. Old Rough-and-Ready grumbled as if
he were not at all pleased at what he had to do, but he did it
notwithstanding. All the officers then turned out in full uniform, and
shortly afterwards we saw a magnificent barge coming off, followed by a
number of smaller boats. The barge came alongside, and the captain went
down the accommodation ladder which had been rigged to receive his royal
guests. They seemed highly pleased with the appearance of the ship,
and, it was said, did good justice to the banquet which had been
prepared for them. We then very quickly unrigged the tent and hauled
down the flags, and, getting under weigh, took a cruise round the bay.
As the water was perfectly smooth, their majesties seemed to enjoy
themselves, and the king remarked that he was not surprised that the
King of England's son should become a sailor.
"I've a notion that the prince has a very different sort of life to
this," remarked old Rough-and-Ready, "though I have no doubt they make
it as easy for him as they can."
When we came to an anchor, their majesties, with their courtiers, went
ashore, and we had the ship to ourselves. We got leave to visit a
number of ruins and other places. As far as we could judge, we should
have time to become well acquainted with the neighbourhood, as our
captain was evidently intent on enjoying himself after his own fashion,
and showed no inclination to put to sea. Lord Robert knew, however,
that even he must not remain there for ever, and, fearing that the
commodore might come in and send him off, with orders not to return,
reluctantly came on board; the anchor was weighed, and we sailed on a
cruise along the African coast. At that time the Barbary States, as
they were called, were nominally at peace with England, but their
cruisers didn't object to capture English merchantmen when they could
fall in with them, and carry off their crews into slavery. In the
daytime we stood close to the coast, and at night kept at a respectful
distance. We had one night been standing to the eastward, about nine
miles off the land.