"_Thou_ shouldst have died, O high-soul'd chief!
In those bright days of glory fled,
When triumph so prevailed o'er grief,
We scarce would mourn the dead."
MRS. HEMANS.
The eventful day opened with most of the glories of a summer's morning.
The wind alone prevented it from being one of the finest sun-risings of
July. That continued fresh, at north-west, and, consequently, cool for
the season. The seas of the south-west gale had entirely subsided, and
were already succeeded by the regular but comparatively trilling swell
of the new breeze. For large ships, it might be called smooth water;
though the Driver and Active showed by their pitching and unsteadiness,
and even the two-deckers, by their waving masts, that the unquiet ocean
was yet in motion. The wind seemed likely to stand, and was what seamen
would be apt to call a good six-knot breeze.
To leeward, still distant about a league, lay the French vessels, drawn
up in beautiful array, and in an order so close, and a line so regular,
as to induce the belief that M. de Vervillin had made his dispositions
to receive the expected attack, in his present position. All his
main-top-sails lay flat aback; the top-gallant-sails were flying loose,
but with buntlings and clew-lines hauled up; the jibs were fluttering to
leeward of their booms, and the courses were hanging in festoons beneath
their yards. This was gallant fighting-canvass, and it excited the
admiration of even his enemies. To increase this feeling, just as Sir
Gervaise's foot reached the poop, the whole French line displayed their
ensigns, and _le Foudroyant_ fired a gun to windward.
"Hey! Greenly?" exclaimed the English commander-in-chief; "this is a
manly defiance, and coming from M. de Vervillin, it means something! He
wishes to take the day for it; though, as I think half that time will
answer, we will wash up the cups before we go at it. Make the signals,
Bunting, for the ships to heave-to, and then to get their breakfasts, as
fast as possible. Steady breeze--steady breeze, Greenly, and all we
want!"
Five minutes later, while Sir Gervaise was running his eye over the
signal-book, the Plantagenet's calls were piping the people to their
morning meal, at least an hour earlier than common; the people repaired
to their messes, with a sort of stern joy; every man in the ship
understanding the reason of a summons so unusual. The calls of the
vessels astern were heard soon after, and one of the officers who was
watching the enemy with a glass, reported that he thought the French
were breakfasting, also. Orders being given to the officers to employ
the next half hour in the same manner, nearly everybody was soon engaged
in eating; few thinking that the meal might probably be their last. Sir
Gervaise felt a concern, which he succeeded in concealing, however, at
the circumstance that the ships to windward made no more sail; though he
refrained from signalling the rear-admiral to that effect, from
tenderness to his friend, and a vague apprehension of what might be the
consequences. While the crews were eating, he stood gazing,
thoughtfully, at the noble spectacle the enemy offered, to leeward,
occasionally turning wistful glances at the division that was constantly
drawing nearer to windward. At length Greenly, himself, reported that
the Plantagenet had "turned the hands-to," again. At this intelligence,
Sir Gervaise started, as from a reverie, smiled, and spoke. We will here
remark, that now, as on the previous day, all the natural excitability
of manner had disappeared from the commander-in-chief, and he was quiet,
and exceedingly gentle in his deportment. This, all who knew him,
understood to denote a serious determination to engage.
"I have desired Galleygo to set my little table, half an hour hence, in
the after-cabin, Greenly, and you will share the meal with me. Sir
Wycherly will be of our party, and I hope it will not be the last time
we may meet at the same board. It is necessary every thing should be in
fighting-order to-day!"
"So I understand it, Sir Gervaise. We are ready to begin, as soon as the
order shall be received."
"Wait one moment until Bunting comes up from his breakfast. Ah! here he
is, and we are quite ready for him, having bent-on the signal in his
absence. Show the order, Bunting; for the day advances."
The little flags were fluttering at the main-top-gallant-mast-head of
the Plantagenet in less than one minute, and in another it was repeated
by the Chloe, Driver, and Active, all of which were lying-to, a quarter
of a mile to windward, charged in particular with this, among other
duties. So well was this signal known, that not a book in the fleet was
consulted, but all the ships answered, the instant the flags could be
seen and understood. Then the shrill whistles were heard along the line,
calling "All hands" to "clear ship for action, ahoy!"
No sooner was this order given in the Plantagenet, than the ship became
a scene of active but orderly exertion. The top-men were on the yards,
stoppering, swinging the yards in chains, and lashing, in order to
prevent shot from doing more injury than was unavoidable; bulwarks were
knocked down; mess-chest, bags, and all other domestic appliances,
disappeared _below_,[3] and the decks were cleared of every thing which
could be removed, and which would not be necessary in an engagement.
Fully a quarter of an hour was thus occupied, for there was no haste,
and as it was no moment of mere parade, it was necessary that the work
should be effectually done. The officers forbade haste, and nothing
important was reported as effected, that some one in authority did not
examine with his own eyes, to see that no proper care had been
neglected. Then Mr. Bury, the first lieutenant, went on the main-yard,
in person, to look at the manner in which it had been slung, while he
sent the boatswain up forward, on the same errand. These were unusual
precautions, but the word had passed through the ship "that Sir Jarvy
was in earnest;" and whenever it was known that "Sir Jarvy" was in such
a humour, every one understood that the day's work was to be hard, if
not long.
[Footnote 3: In the action of the Nile, many of the French ships, under
the impression that the enemy _must_ engage on the _outside_, put their
lumber, bags, &c., into the ports, and between the guns, in the
larboard, or _inshore_ batteries; and when the British anchored
_inshore_ of them, these batteries could not be used.]
"Our breakfast is ready, Sir Jarvy," reported Galleygo, "and as the
decks is all clear, the b'ys can make a clean run of it from the
coppers. I only wants to know when to serve it, your honour."
"Serve it now, my good fellow. Tell the Bowlderos to be nimble, and
expect us below. Come, Greenly--come, Wychecombe--we are the last to
eat--let us not be the last at our stations."
"Ship's clear, sir," reported Bury to his captain, as the three reached
the quarter-deck, on their way to the cabin.
"Very well, Bury; when the fleet is signalled to go to quarters, we will
obey with the rest."
As this was said, Greenly looked at the vice-admiral to catch his
wishes. But Sir Gervaise had no intention of fatiguing his people
unnecessarily. He had left his private orders with Bunting, and he
passed down without an answer or a glance. The arrangements in the
after-cabin were as snug and as comfortable as if the breakfast-table
had been set in a private house, and the trio took their seats and
commenced operations with hearty good will. The vice-admiral ordered the
doors thrown open, and as the port-lids were up, from the place where he
sat he could command glimpses, both to leeward and to windward, that
included a view of the enemy, as well as one of his own expected
reinforcements. The Bowlderos were in full livery, and more active and
attentive than usual even. Their station in battle--for no man on board
a vessel of war is an "_idler_" in a combat--was on the poop, as
musketeers, near the person of their master, whose colours they wore,
under the ensign of their prince, like vassals of an ancient baron.
Notwithstanding the crisis of the morning, however, these men performed
their customary functions with the precision and method of English
menials, omitting no luxury or usage of the table. On a sofa behind the
table, was spread the full dress-coat of a vice-admiral, then a neat but
plain uniform, without either lace or epaulettes, but decorated with a
rich star in brilliants, the emblem of the order of the Bath. This coat
Sir Gervaise always wore in battle, unless the weather rendered a
"storm-uniform," as he used to term a plainer attire, necessary.
The breakfast passed off pleasantly, the gentlemen eating as if no
momentous events were near. Just at its close, however, Sir Gervaise
leaned forward, and looking through one of the weather-ports of the
main-cabin, an expression of pleasure illuminated his countenance, as he
said--
"Ah! there go Bluewater's signals, at last!--a certain proof that he is
about to put himself in communication with us."
"I have been a good deal surprised, sir," observed Greenly, a little
drily, though with great respect of manner, "that you have not ordered
the rear-admiral to make more sail. He is jogging along like a heavy
wagon, and yet I hardly think he can mistake these five ships for
Frenchmen!"
"He is never in a hurry, and no doubt wishes to let _his_ crews
breakfast, before he closes. I'll warrant ye, now, gentlemen, that his
ships are at this moment all as clear as a church five minutes after the
blessing has been pronounced."
"It will not be one of our Virginian churches, then, Sir Gervaise,"
observed Wycherly, smiling; "_they_ serve for an exchange, to give and
receive news in, after the service is over."
"Ay, that's the old rule--first pray, and then gossip. Well, Bunting,
what does the rear-admiral say?"
"Upon my word, Sir Gervaise, I can make nothing of the signal, though it
is easy enough to make out the flags," answered the puzzled
signal-officer. "Will you have the goodness to look at the book
yourself, sir. The number is one hundred and forty."
"One hundred and forty! Why, that must have something to do with
anchoring!--ay, here it is. 'Anchor, I cannot, having lost my cables.'
Who the devil asked him to anchor?"
"That's just it, sir. The signal-officer on board the Cæsar must have
made some mistake in his flags; for, though the distance is
considerable, our glasses are good enough to read them."
"Perhaps Admiral Bluewater has set the private, personal, telegraph at
work, sir," quietly observed Greenly.
The commander-in-chief actually changed colour at this suggestion. His
face, at first, flushed to crimson; then it became pale, like the
countenance of one who suffered under acute bodily pain. Wycherly
observed this, and respectfully inquired if Sir Gervaise were ill.
"I thank you, young sir," answered the vice-admiral, smiling painfully;
"it is over. I believe I shall have to go into dock, and let Magrath
look at some of my old hurts, which _are_ sometimes troublesome. Mr.
Bunting, do me the favour to go on deck, and ascertain, by a careful
examination, if a short red pennant be not set some ten or twelve feet
above the uppermost flag. Now, Greenly, we will take the other cup of
tea, for there is plenty of leisure."
Two or three brooding minutes followed. Then Bunting returned to say the
pennant _was_ there, a fact he had quite overlooked in his former
observations, confounding the narrow flag in question with the regular
pennant of the king. This short red pennant denoted that the
communication was verbal, according to a method invented by Bluewater
himself, and by means of which, using the ordinary numbers, he was
enabled to communicate with his friend, without any of the captains, or,
indeed, without Sir Gervaise's own signal-officer's knowing what was
said. In a word, without having recourse to any new flags, but, by
simply giving new numbers to the old ones, and referring to a prepared
dictionary, it was possible to hold a conversation in sentences, that
should be a secret to all but themselves. Sir Gervaise took down the
number of the signal that was flying, and directed Bunting to show the
answering flag, with a similar pennant over it, and to continue this
operation so long as the rear-admiral might make his signals. The
numbers were to be sent below as fast as received. As soon as Bunting
disappeared, the vice-admiral unlocked a secretary, the key of which was
never out of his own possession, took from it a small dictionary, and
laid it by his plate. All this time the breakfast proceeded, signals of
this nature frequently occurring between the two admirals. In the course
of the next ten minutes, a quarter-master brought below a succession of
numbers written on small pieces of paper; after which Bunting appeared
himself to say that the Cæsar had stopped signalling.
Sir Gervaise now looked out each word by its proper number, and wrote it
down with his pencil as he proceeded, until the whole read--"God
sake--make no signal. Engage not." No sooner was the communication
understood, than the paper was torn into minute fragments, the book
replaced, and the vice-admiral, turning with a calm determined
countenance to Greenly, ordered him to beat to quarters as soon as
Bunting could show a signal to the fleet to the same effect. On this
hint, all but the vice-admiral went on deck, and the Bowlderos instantly
set about removing the table and all the other appliances. Finding
himself annoyed by the movements of the servants, Sir Gervaise walked
out into the great cabin, which, regardless of its present condition, he
began to pace as was his wont when lost in thought. The bulk-heads being
down, and the furniture removed, this was in truth walking in sight of
the crew. All who happened to be on the main-deck could see what passed,
though no one presumed to enter a spot that was tabooed to vulgar feet,
even when thus exposed. The aspect and manner of "Sir Jarvy," however,
were not overlooked, and the men prognosticated a serious time.
Such was the state of things, when the drums beat to quarters,
throughout the whole line. At the first tap, the great cabin sunk to the
level of an ordinary battery; the seamen of two guns, with the proper
officers, entering within the sacred limits, and coolly setting about
clearing their pieces, and making the other preparations necessary for
an action. All this time Sir Gervaise continued pacing what would have
been the centre of his own cabin had the bulk-heads stood, the
grim-looking sailors avoiding him with great dexterity, and invariably
touching their hats as they were compelled to glide near his person,
though every thing went on as if he were not present. Sir Gervaise might
have remained lost in thought much longer than he did, had not the
report of a gun recalled him to a consciousness of the scene that was
enacting around him.
"What's that?" suddenly demanded the vice-admiral--"Is Blue water
signalling again?"
"No, Sir Gervaise," answered the fourth lieutenant, looking out of a lee
port; "it is the French admiral giving us another weather-gun; as much
as to ask why we don't go down. This is the second compliment of the
same sort that he has paid us already to-day!"
These words were not all spoken before the vice-admiral was on the
quarter-deck; in half a minute more, he was on the poop. Here he found
Greenly, Wychecombe, and Bunting, all looking with interest at the
beautiful line of the enemy.
"Monsieur de Vervillin is impatient to wipe off the disgrace of
yesterday," observed the first, "as is apparent by the invitations he
gives us to come down. I presume Admiral Bluewater will wake up at this
last hint."
"By Heaven, he has hauled his wind, and is standing to the northward and
eastward!" exclaimed Sir Gervaise, surprise overcoming all his
discretion. "Although an extraordinary movement, at such a time, it is
wonderful in what beautiful order Bluewater keeps his ships!"
All that was said was true enough. The rear-admiral's division having
suddenly hauled up, in a close line ahead, each ship followed her leader
as mechanically as if they moved by a common impulse. As no one in the
least doubted the rear-admiral's loyalty, and his courage was of proof,
it was the general opinion that this unusual man[oe]uvre had some
connection with the unintelligible signals, and the young officers
laughingly inquired among themselves what "Sir Jarvy was likely to do
next?"
It would seem, however, that Monsieur de Vervillin suspected a
repetition of some of the scenes of the preceding day; for, no sooner
did he perceive that the English rear was hugging the wind, than five of
his leading ships filled, and drew ahead, as if to meet that division,
man[oe]uvring to double on the head of his line; while the remaining
five, with the Foudroyant, still lay with their top-sails to the mast,
waiting for their enemy to come down. Sir Gervaise could not stand this
long. He determined, if possible, to bring Bluewater to terms, and he
ordered the Plantagenet to fill. Followed by his own division, he wore
immediately, and went off under easy sail, quartering, towards Monsieur
de Vervillin's rear, to avoid being raked.
The quarter of an hour that succeeded was one of intense interest, and
of material changes; though not a shot was fired. As soon as the Comte
de Vervillin perceived that the English were disposed to come nearer, he
signalled his own division to bear up, and to run off dead before the
wind, under their top-sails, commencing astern; which reversed his order
of sailing, and brought le Foudroyant in the rear, or nearest to the
enemy. This was no sooner done, than he settled all his top-sails on the
caps. There could be no mistaking this man[oe]uvre. It was a direct
invitation to Sir Gervaise to come down, fairly alongside; the bearing
up at once removing all risk of being raked in so doing. The English
commander-in-chief was not a man to neglect such a palpable challenge;
but, making a few signals to direct the mode of attack he contemplated,
he set fore-sail and main-top-gallant-sail, and brought the wind directly
over his own taffrail. The vessels astern followed like clock-work, and
no one now doubted that the mode of attack was settled for that day.
As the French, with Monsieur de Vervillin, were still half a mile to the
southward and eastward of the approaching division, of their enemy, the
Comte collected all his frigates and corvettes on his starboard hand,
leaving a clear approach to Sir Gervaise on his larboard beam. This hint
was understood, too, and the Plantagenet steered a course that would
bring her up on that side of le Foudroyant, and at the distance of about
one hundred yards from the muzzles of her guns. This threatened to be
close work, and unusual work in fleets, at that day; but it was the game
our commander-in-chief was fond of playing, and it was one, also, that
promised soonest to bring matters to a result.
These preliminaries arranged, there was yet leisure for the respective
commanders to look about them. The French were still fully a mile ahead
of their enemies, and as both fleets were going in the same direction,
the approach of the English was so slow as to leave some twenty minutes
of that solemn breathing time, which reigns in a disciplined ship,
previous to the commencement of the combat. The feelings of the two
commanders-in-chief, at this pregnant instant, were singularly in
contradiction to each other. The Comte de Vervillin saw that the rear
division of his force, under the Comte-Amiral le Vicomte des Prez, was
in the very position he desired it to be, having obtained the advantage
of the wind by the English division's coming down, and by keeping its
own luff. Between the two French officers there was a perfect
understanding as to the course each was to take, and both now felt
sanguine hopes of being able to obliterate the disgrace of the previous
day, and that, too, by means very similar to those by which it had been
incurred. On the other hand, Sir Gervaise was beset with doubts as to
the course Bluewater might pursue. He could not, however, come to the
conclusion that he would abandon him to the joint efforts of the two
hostile divisions; and so long as the French rear-admiral was occupied
by the English force to windward, it left to himself a clear field and
no favour in the action with Monsieur de Vervillin. He knew Bluewater's
generous nature too well not to feel certain his own compliance with the
request not to signal his inferior would touch his heart, and give him a
double chance with all his better feelings. Nevertheless, Sir Gervaise
Oakes did not lead into this action without many and painful misgivings.
He had lived too long in the world not to know that political prejudice
was the most demoralising of all our weaknesses, veiling our private
vices under the plausible concealment of the public weal, and rendering
even the well-disposed insensible to the wrongs they commit to
individuals, by means of the deceptive flattery of serving the
community. As doubt was more painful than the certainty of his worst
forebodings, however, and it was not in his nature to refuse a combat so
fairly offered, he was resolved to close with the Comte at every hazard,
trusting the issue to God, and his own efforts.
The Plantagenet presented an eloquent picture of order and preparation,
as she drew near the French line, on this memorable occasion. Her people
were all at quarters, and, as Greenly walked through her batteries, he
found every gun on the starboard side loose, levelled, and ready to be
fired; while the opposite merely required a turn or two of the tackles
to be cast loose, the priming to be applied, and the loggerhead to
follow, in order to be discharged, also. A death-like stillness reigned
from the poop to the cock-pit, the older seamen occasionally glancing
through their ports in order to ascertain the relative positions of the
two fleets, that they might be ready for the collision. As the English
got within musket-shot, the French ran their top-sails to the mast-heads,
and their ships gathered fresher way through the water. Still the former
moved with the greatest velocity, carrying the most sail, and impelled
by the greater momentum. When near enough, however, Sir Gervaise gave
the order to reduce the canvass of his own ship.
"That will do, Greenly," he said, in a mild, quiet tone. "Let run the
top-gallant-halyards, and haul up the fore-sail. The way you have, will
bring you fairly alongside."
The captain gave the necessary orders, and the master shortened sail
accordingly. Still the Plantagenet shot ahead, and, in three or four
minutes more, her bows doubled so far on le Foudroyant's quarter, as to
permit a gun to bear. This was the signal for both sides, each ship
opening as it might be in the same breath. The flash, the roar, and the
eddying smoke followed in quick succession, and in a period of time that
seemed nearly instantaneous. The crash of shot, and the shrieks of
wounded mingled with the infernal din, for nature extorts painful
concessions of human weaknesses, at such moments, even from the bravest
and firmest. Bunting was in the act of reporting to Sir Gervaise that no
signal could yet be seen from the Cæsar, in the midst of this uproar,
when a small round-shot, discharged from the Frenchman's poop, passed
through his body, literally driving the heart before it, leaving him
dead at his commander's feet.
"I shall depend on you, Sir Wycherly, for the discharge of poor
Bunting's duty, the remainder of the cruise," observed Sir Gervaise,
with a smile in which courtesy and regret struggled singularly for the
mastery. "Quarter-masters, lay Mr. Bunting's body a little out of the
way, and cover it with those signals. They are a suitable pall for so
brave a man!"
Just as this occurred, the Warspite came clear of the Plantagenet, on
her outside, according to orders, and she opened with her forward guns,
taking the second ship in the French line for her target. In two minutes
more these vessels also were furiously engaged in the hot strife. In
this manner, ship after ship passed on the outside of the Plantagenet,
and sheered into her berth ahead of her who had just been her own
leader, until the Achilles, Lord Morganic, the last of the five, lay
fairly side by side with le Conquereur, the vessel now at the head of
the French line. That the reader may understand the incidents more
readily, we will give the opposing lines in the precise form in which
they lay, viz.
Plantagenet le Foudroyant
Warspite le Téméraire
Blenheim le Dugay Trouin
Thunderer l'Ajax
Achilles le Conquereur.
The constantly recurring discharges of four hundred pieces of heavy
ordnance, within a space so small, had the effect to repel the regular
currents of air, and, almost immediately, to lessen a breeze of six or
seven knots, to one that would not propel a ship more than two or three.
This was the first observable phenomenon connected with the action, but,
as it had been expected, Sir Gervaise had used the precaution to lay his
ships as near as possible in the positions in which he intended them to
fight the battle. The next great physical consequence, one equally
expected and natural, but which wrought a great change in the aspect of
the battle, was the cloud of smoke in which the ten ships were suddenly
enveloped. At the first broadsides between the two admirals, volumes of
light, fleecy vapour rolled over the sea, meeting midway, and rising
thence in curling wreaths, left nothing but the masts and sails of the
adversary visible in the hostile ship. This, of itself, would have soon
hidden the combatants in the bosom of a nearly impenetrable cloud; but
as the vessels drove onward they entered deeper beneath the sulphurous
canopy, until it spread on each side of them, shutting out the view of
ocean, skies, and horizon. The burning of the priming below contributed
to increase the smoke, until, not only was respiration often difficult,
but those who fought only a few yards apart frequently could not
recognise each other's faces. In the midst of this scene of obscurity,
and a din that might well have alarmed the caverns of the ocean, the
earnest and well-drilled seamen toiled at their ponderous guns, and
remedied with ready hands the injuries received in the rigging, each man
as intent on his own particular duty as if he wrought in the occupations
of an ordinary gale.
"Sir Wycherly," observed the vice-admiral, when the cannonading had
continued some twenty minutes, "there is little for a flag-officer to do
in such a cloud of smoke. I would give much to know the exact positions
of the divisions of our two rear-admirals."
"There is but one mode of ascertaining that, Sir Gervaise--if it be your
pleasure, I will attempt it. By going on the main-top-gallant-yard, one
might get a clear view, perhaps."
Sir Gervaise smiled his approbation, and presently he saw the young man
ascending the main-rigging, though half concealed in smoke. Just at this
instant, Greenly ascended to the poop, from making a tour of observation
below. Without waiting for a question, the captain made his report.
"We are doing pretty well, now, Sir Gervaise, though the first broadside
of the Comte treated us roughly. I think his fire slackens, and Bury
says, he is certain that his fore-top-mast is already gone. At all
events, our lads are in good spirits, and as yet all the sticks keep
their places."
"I'm glad of this, Greenly; particularly of the latter, just at this
moment. I see you are looking at those signals--they cover the body of
poor Bunting."
"And this train of blood to the ladder, sir--I hope our young baronet is
not hurt?"
"No, it is one of the Bowlderos, who has lost a leg. I shall have to see
that he wants for nothing hereafter."
There was a pause; then both the gentlemen smiled, as they heard the
crashing work made by a shot just beneath them, which, by the sounds and
the direction, they knew had passed through Greenly's crockery. Still
neither spoke. After a few more minutes of silent observation, Sir
Gervaise remarked that he thought the flashes of the French guns more
distant than they had been at first, though, at that instant, not a
trace of their enemy was to be discovered, except in the roar of the
guns, and in these very flashes, and their effect on the Plantagenet.
"If so, sir, the Comte begins to find his berth too hot for him; here is
the wind still directly over _our_ taffrail, such as it is."
"No--no--we steer as we began--I keep my eye on that compass below, and
am certain we hold a straight course. Go forward, Greenly, and see that
a sharp look-out is kept ahead. It is time some of our own ships should
be crippled; we must be careful not to run into them. Should such a
thing happen sheer hard to starboard, and pass _inside_."
"Ay--ay--Sir Gervaise; your wishes shall be attended to."
As this was said, Greenly disappeared, and, at the next instant,
Wycherly stood in his place.
"Well, sir--I am glad to see you back safe. If Greenly were here now,
_he_ would inquire about his _masts_, but _I_ wish to know the position
of the _ships_."
"I am the bearer of bad news, sir. Nothing at all could be seen from the
top; but in the cross-trees, I got a good look through the smoke, and am
sorry to say the French rear-admiral is coming down fast on our
larboard-quarter, with all his force. We shall have him abeam in five
minutes."
"And Bluewater?" demanded Sir Gervaise, quick as lightning.
"I could see nothing of Admiral Bluewater's ships; but knowing the
importance of this intelligence, I came down immediately, and by the
back-stay."
"You have done well, sir. Send a midshipman forward for Captain Greenly;
then pass below yourself, and let the lieutenants in the batteries hear
the news. They must divide their people, and by all means give a prompt
and well-directed _first_ broadside."
Wycherly waited for no more. He ran below with the activity of his
years. The message found Greenly between the knight-heads, but he
hurried aft to the poop to ascertain its object. It took Sir Gervaise
but a moment to explain it all to the captain.
"In the name of Heaven, what can the other division be about," exclaimed
Greenly, "that it lets the French rear-admiral come upon us, in a moment
like this!"
"Of that, sir, it is unnecessary to speak _now_," answered the
commander-in-chief, solemnly. "Our present business is to get ready for
this new enemy. Go into the batteries again, and, as you prize victory,
be careful not to throw away the first discharge, in the smoke."
As time pressed, Greenly swallowed his discontent, and departed. The
five minutes that succeeded were bitter minutes to Sir Gervaise Oakes.
Beside himself there were but five men on the poop; viz., the
quarter-master who tended the signals, and three of the Bowlderos. All
of these were using muskets as usual, though the vice-admiral never
permitted marines to be stationed at a point which he wished to be as
clear of smoke, and as much removed from bustle as possible. He began to
pace this comparatively vacant little deck with a quick step, casting
wistful glances towards the larboard-quarter; but though the smoke
occasionally cleared a little in that direction, the firing having much
slackened from exhaustion in the men, as well as from injuries given and
received, he was unable to detect any signs of a ship. Such was the
state of things when Wycherly returned and reported that his orders
were delivered, and part of the people were already in the
larboard-batteries.