WITH NELSON
One day during the siege Nelson said to Will: “I’ll be glad, Mr. Gilmore,
if you will accompany me on an excursion along the shore. I have my eye on
a spot from which, if we could get guns up to it, we should be able to
command the town. From what I have seen of you I believe you know more
about mounting guns than anyone here, so I’ll be glad to have your opinion
of the position.”
Will of course expressed his willingness to go, and they at once started
in the gig. They rowed on for some time, keeping a sharp look-out for
suitable landing-places. At last Nelson bade the men lie on their oars,
and pointed to the ridge of which he had spoken.
“Well, what do you say?” he asked, after Will had made a careful
examination of it from the boat.
“I am afraid it would not be possible, sir, to carry out your plan. The
labour of getting the guns up from the shore would be enormous, and
considering the rugged state of the country I question if they could be
taken across to the ridge when they were up.”
“No; I agree with you. I did not examine it so closely before; and at any
rate, underhanded as we are, we could not spare enough men for the
business. We may as well, however, row a bit along the shore. I am
convinced that if we could land three or four hundred men within five or
six miles of the town, and attack it simultaneously on both sides, we
should carry it without much trouble. The French have been fighting well,
but they must have been losing heart for some time. A Frenchman hates to
be cornered, and as they see our batteries rising they cannot but feel
that sooner or later they must give in. I fancy by this time they are
asking each other what use it is to keep on being killed when they must
surrender in the end.”
They had rowed on for a couple of hours without fixing on a suitable
place, when Nelson exclaimed: “We are going to be caught in a fog. That is
distinctly unpleasant. Have we a compass in the boat?” he said, turning to
the coxswain.
“No, sir. I thought you were only going to row out to the ship, and did
not think of bringing one with me.”
“Never forget a compass, my man,” Nelson said, “for though the sky may be
blue when you start, a sudden storm may overtake you and blow you far from
your ship. However, it can’t be helped now.”
In less than ten minutes the boat was enveloped in a dense fog. The
position was decidedly awkward. Had there been any wind they could have
steered by the sound of the surf breaking at the foot of the cliffs, but
the sea was absolutely calm, and they could hear nothing. They rowed on
for some time, and then Nelson said: “Lay in your oars, men, we may be
pulling in the wrong direction for all we know. We’ll have to remain here
till this fog lifts, even if it takes a week to clear. This is a northerly
fog,” he said to Will. “Cold wind comes down from the Alps and condenses
when it reaches the sea. These fogs are not very common, but they
sometimes last for a considerable time.”
The afternoon passed, and presently night fell. There was no food of any
kind in the boat. The men chewed their quids, but the two officers could
not indulge in that relief. At night Nelson and Will wrapped themselves in
their boat-cloaks and made themselves as comfortable as they could,
getting uneasy snatches of sleep. Morning broke and there was no change; a
white wall of fog rose all round the boat.
“This is awkward,” Nelson said. “I wish one of the batteries would fire a
few guns; that might give us some indication as to our position, though I
am by no means sure that in this thick atmosphere the sound would reach so
far. I think we were about eleven miles away when the fog caught us.”
In the afternoon a breeze sprang up.
“God grant that it may continue!” Nelson said. “Slight as it is, two or
three hours of it might raise a swell, and we might then hear the wash of
the waves on the rocks.”
Hour after hour passed, but at last the coxswain said: “I think I hear a
faint sound over on the right.”
“I have thought so some little time,” Will said, “but I would not speak
until I was sure.”
“Out oars,” Nelson ordered, “and row in that direction.” The sound became
more and more distinct as they proceeded, and soon they were satisfied
that they were heading for the land. In a quarter of an hour the boat ran
up on a sandy beach.
“I have not seen this spot before, it must therefore be farther away from
the town than the point we had reached, and as we have been nearly
twenty-four hours in the fog the current may have taken us a good many
miles. However, we will land. I am parched with thirst, and you must be
the same, lads. Leave two men in the boat; the rest of us will go in
search of water and bring some down to those left behind when we find it.
I think we had better scatter and look for some way up the cliff. If we
can find a path we must follow it until we come to some house or other.
Where there is a house there must be water. Mr. Gilmore and I will go to
the right. If any of you find water, shout; we will do the same. But
whether you find water or not, come down to the boat in three hours’ time.
Thirsty or not thirsty we must row back to the town this evening. Now, Mr.
Gilmore, we will walk along the beach until we come to a path, or at any
rate some place where we can climb. I hope, as we get higher, the fog will
become less dense.”
For an hour they groped their way along the foot of the cliff, and then,
finding a place where it seemed not so steep as elsewhere, began to climb.
When they had reached a height of some three or four hundred feet they
emerged from the fog into bright sunshine. Below them stretched a white
misty lake. On all sides rose hill above hill, for the most part covered
to the top by foliage.
“I see some smoke rising from among the trees over there to the right,
sir, a mile or a mile and a half away.”
“I will take your word for it, Mr. Gilmore. As you know, my sight is not
at all in good condition. Let us be off at once, for the very thought of
water makes me thirstier than ever.”
Half an hour’s walking brought them to the hut of a peasant. The owner
came to the door as they approached. He was a rough-looking man in a long
jacket made of goat-skin, coarse trousers reaching down to the knee, and
his legs bound with long strips of wadding. “Who are you,” he asked in his
own language, “and how come you here?” As neither of the officers
understood one word of the patois of the country they could only make
signs that they wanted something to eat and drink. The peasant understood,
and beckoned to them to come into the hut. As they entered he gave some
instructions to a boy, who went out and presently returned with a jug of
water. While the officers were quenching their thirst the boy went out
again, and the man brought from a cupboard some black bread and
goats’-milk cheese, which he set before them.
“I don’t altogether like that man’s movements, sir. He crawls about as if
he were trying to put away as much time as possible. The boy, too, has
disappeared.”
“Perhaps he has gone to get some more water,” Nelson suggested.
“He could have gone a dozen times by now, sir. It is possible that he
takes us for French officers. A peasant living in such a spot as this,
sixteen or twenty miles from a town, might not even know that there are
English troops in the country.”
Having satisfied their hunger and thirst, they tried to make the man
understand that they were willing to buy all the bread and cheese he had,
together with a large jar for carrying water.
The man showed a prodigious amount of stupidity, and although his eyes
glistened when Nelson produced gold, he still seemed unable to understand
that, having had as much as they could eat, they wanted to buy more. At
last Nelson, in a passion, said: “Look here, my man, there is a sovereign,
which is worth at least twenty times your miserable store of bread and
cheese. If you don’t choose to accept the money you needn’t, but we will
take the food whether or no,” and he pointed to his store. As he spoke
there was a sound of footsteps outside, and a moment later the door was
darkened by the entry of a dozen wild figures, who flung themselves upon
the two officers before they had time to make any effort to defend
themselves.
In vain Nelson attempted in French and Italian to make himself understood.
The men would not listen, but poured out objurgations upon them whenever
they attempted to speak. The word Français frequently occurred in their
speeches, mixed up with what were evidently expressions of hatred.
“This is awkward, Mr. Gilmore,” Nelson said quietly as they lay bound
together in a corner of the hut. “A more unpleasant situation I was never
in.”
“I was in one as bad once before. I was captured by a band of negroes in
Cuba, and they were preparing to burn me alive when I managed to escape.”
“I should not be at all surprised if that is what these gentlemen are
preparing to do now, Gilmore. I am sorry I have brought you into this.”
“It cannot be helped, sir,” Will said cheerfully; “and if they do kill us,
my loss to the nation will be as nothing compared with yours. There is no
doubt they take us for French officers who have lost their way in the
mountains, and they are preparing to punish us for the misdeeds of our
supposed countrymen. There are only two things that could help us out of
this plight so far as I can see. One is the arrival of a priest; I suppose
they have priests hereabouts with a knowledge of French or Italian. The
other is the appearance on the scene of our boat’s crew.”
“Both are very unlikely, I am afraid. The crew, you know, all went the
other way.”
“Yes, sir; but it is just possible that they may have seen the smoke of
this hut also, and be making their way here. Though I looked carefully on
all sides I could see no other signs of life.”
“It is possible,” Nelson said; “but for my part I think the priest the
more likely solution, if there is to be a solution. Well, it is a comfort
to know that we have eaten a hearty meal and shall not die hungry or
thirsty. It was foolish of us to come up here alone, knowing what wild
savages these people in the mountains are. It would have been better to
have gone on suffering ten or twelve hours longer, and to have made our
way to the fleet by following close in by the foot of the rocks.”
“I don’t think we could have done it in that time, sir. We should have had
to keep within an oar’s-length of the rocks, and so must have progressed
very slowly. Besides, we might have staved in the boat at any moment.”
“That is so. Still, we were only drifting for about twenty-four hours, and
we shouldn’t have taken so long to go back. Even twenty-four hours of
hunger and thirst would have been better than this. It is useless,
however, to think of that now.”
In the meantime the men were engaged in a noisy talk, each one apparently
urging his own view. At last they seemed to come to an agreement, and four
of them, going to the corner, dragged the two officers to their feet, and
hauled them out of the cottage. Then they bound them to trees seven or
eight feet apart, and piled faggots round them. When this was done they
amused themselves by dancing wildly round their prisoners, taunting them
and heaping execrations upon them.
“The sooner this comes to an end the better,” Nelson said quietly. “Well,
Mr. Gilmore, we have both the satisfaction of knowing that we have done
our duty to our country. After all, it makes no great difference to a man
whether he dies in battle or is burnt, except that the burning method
lasts a little longer. But it won’t last long in our case, I fancy. Do you
notice that these faggots are all lately cut? We’ll probably be suffocated
before the flames touch us.”
“I see that, sir, and am very grateful for it.”
The dance was finished, and two men brought brands from the cottage.
“Listen, Mr. Gilmore,” said Nelson at this moment. “I think I can hear
footsteps; I am sure I heard a branch crack.”
Brands were applied to the faggots, but these were so green that at first
they would not catch. At this, several of the peasants rushed into the
cottage, and were returning with larger brands, when some figures suddenly
appeared at the edge of the little clearing in the direction from which
Nelson had heard sounds. They stood silent for a minute, looking at the
scene, and then with a loud shout they rushed forward with drawn cutlasses
and attacked the natives. Four or five of the peasants were cut down, and
the remainder fled in terror.
“Thank God, your honour, we have arrived in time!” the coxswain said as he
cut Nelson’s bonds, while another sailor liberated Will.
“Thank God indeed! Now, my lads, we have not a moment to lose. Those
fellows are sure to gather a number of their comrades at the nearest
village, and I have no wish to see any more of them. Go into that hut; you
will find enough bread and cheese there to give you each a meal, and there
is a spring of water close by.”
The sailors scattered at once, and were not long in discovering the
spring. There they knelt down and drank long and deeply. Then they went
into the cottage and devoured the bread and cheese, which, although far
from being sufficient to satisfy them, at least appeased their hunger for
a time. After they had finished they all went back to the spring for
another drink. Then, taking some bread and cheese and a large jug of water
for the boat keepers, they followed Nelson and Will from the place which
had so nearly proved fatal to their officers. They went down the hill at a
brisk pace until they reached the top of the fog. After this they
proceeded more cautiously. They had no longer any fear of pursuit, for,
once in the fog, it would require an army to find them. At last they
reached the strand and found the boat. When the two men who had been left
in charge had finished their share of the food and water, Nelson said:
“Now, my lads, we must row on. If we keep close to the foot of the rocks,
that is, within fifty yards of them, the noise of the waves breaking will
be a sufficient guide to prevent our getting too far out to sea.”
“May I be so bold as to ask how far we’ll have to row?” the coxswain said.
“That is more than I can tell you. It may be a little over eleven miles,
it may be twice or even three times that distance. Now, however, that you
have had something to eat and drink you can certainly row on until we
reach the ships.”
“That we can, sir. We feel like new men again, though we did feel mighty
bad before.”
“So did we, lads. Now it is of no use your trying to row racing pace; take
a long, quiet stroke, and every hour or two rest for a few minutes.”
“It will be dark before very long,” Nelson remarked quietly to Will when
the men began to row; “but fortunately that will make no difference to us,
as we are guided not by our eyes but by our ears. There is more wind than
there was, and on a still night like this we can hear the waves against
the rocks half a mile out, so there is no fear of our losing our way, and
it will be hard indeed if we don’t reach the ships before daylight. The
boat is travelling about four knots an hour. If the current has not
carried us a good deal farther than we imagine, five or six hours ought to
take us there.”
The hours passed slowly. Sometimes the men had to row some distance
seaward to avoid projecting headlands. At last, however, about twelve
o’clock, Will exclaimed:
“I hear a ripple, sir, like the water against the bow of a ship.”
“Easy all!” Nelson said at once.
The order was obeyed, and all listened intently. Presently there was a
general exclamation as the sound of footsteps was heard ahead.
“That is a marine pacing up and down on sentry. Give way, lads.”
In a few minutes a black mass rose up close in front of them. The coxswain
put the helm down, and the boat glided along the side of the ship. As she
did so there came the sharp challenge of a sentry:
“Who goes there? Answer, or I fire.”
“It is all right, my man; it is Captain Nelson.”
“Wait till I call the watch, Captain Nelson,” the sentry replied in the
monotonous voice of his kind.
“Very well, sentry, you are quite right to do your duty.”
In half a minute an officer’s voice was heard above, and a lantern was
shown over the side.
“Is it you, sir?” he asked.
“Yes; what ship is this?”
“The _Romulus_.”
“Can you lend me a compass?”
“Yes, sir, I will fetch one in a moment.”
“Thank you!” Nelson said when the officer returned with the instrument. “I
have lost my bearings in the fog, and I want to get to my tent on shore. I
know its exact bearings, however, from this ship.”
Twenty minutes’ row brought them to the landing-place. Nelson’s first
thought was for the crew, and, going to the storehouse close at hand, he
knocked some of the people up, and saw that they were supplied with plenty
of food and drink. Then he went into his tent. Here the table was spread,
with various kinds of food standing on it. His servant being called up, a
kettle was boiled, and he and Will sat down to a hearty meal.
“Do you know what has been said about us in our absence, Chamfrey?” Nelson
asked his servant.
“No, sir; everything has been upset by this fog. They sent down from the
batteries to enquire where you and Mr. Gilmore were, and we could only say
that we supposed you were on board the ship. They sent from the ships to
ask, and we could only say that we didn’t know, but supposed that you were
somewhere up in the batteries. Some thought, when you did not return this
afternoon, that you had lost your way in the fog; but no one seemed to
think that anything serious could have happened to you.”
Nelson got up and went to where the boat’s crew were sitting after having
finished their meal.
“Coxswain, here are two guineas for yourself and a guinea for each of the
men. Now I want every man of you to keep his mouth tightly shut about what
has happened. I promise you that if any man blabs he will be turned out of
my gig. You understand?”
“Yes, sir,” they replied together. “You can trust us to keep our mouths
shut. We will never say a word about it.”
“That is a good thing,” Nelson remarked when he returned to Will. “If what
has happened came to be known, I should get abused by Lord Hood for having
gone so far away and run so great a risk. Of course, as you and I are
aware, there would have been no risk at all if that fog had not set in and
we had not forgotten to bring a compass. But, you know, a naval man is
supposed to foresee everything, and I should have been blamed just as much
as if I had rowed into the fog on purpose. I should have had all the
captains in the fleet remonstrating with me, and they would be saying: ‘I
knew, Nelson, the way you are always running about, that you would get
into some scrape or other one of these days.’ A report, indeed, might be
sent to England, enormously magnified, of course, with the headings:
‘Captain Nelson lost in a fog!’ ‘Captain Nelson roasted alive by Corsican
brigands!’ I would not have the news get about for five hundred guineas. I
don’t suppose my absence was noticed the first day. It was known, of
course, that I went off in my gig; but as I sometimes sleep here and
sometimes on board my ship, the fact that I was not in either place would
not cause surprise. As for to-day, if any questions are asked, I’ll simply
say that I lost my way in the fog and did not return here until late at
night, a tale which will have the advantage of being true.”
“You may be sure, sir, that no word shall pass my lips on the matter.”
“I am quite sure of that, Mr. Gilmore. I shall never forget this danger we
have shared together, nor how well you bore the terrible trial. I shall
always regard you as one of my closest comrades and friends, and when the
time comes will do my best to further your interests. I have not much
power at present, as one of Lord Hood’s captains, but the time may come
when I shall be able to do something for you, and I can assure you that
when that opportunity arrives I shall need no reminder of my promise.”
By the 11th of April, 1794, the three batteries were completed, and they
at once opened fire on the town. The garrison vigorously replied with hot
shot, which set fire to a ship that had been converted into a battery.
Still D’Aubant remained inactive. The sailors, fired with indignation,
worked even harder than before. Nelson now felt confident of success. He
predicted that the place would fall between the 11th and 17th of May, and
his prediction was fulfilled almost to the letter, for at four o’clock on
the afternoon of the 11th a boat came out from the town to the _Victory_
offering to surrender. That afternoon, General D’Aubant, having received
some reinforcements from Gibraltar, arrived from San Fiorenzo only to find
that the work he had pronounced impracticable had been done without his
assistance.
Will had spent the whole of his time during the siege on shore. He had
laboured incessantly in getting the guns up to their positions, and had
been placed in command of one of the batteries. Nelson specially
recommended him for his services, and Lord Hood mentioned him in his
despatches to the Admiralty at home.
No sooner had Bastia fallen than the admiral determined to besiege Calvi,
the one French stronghold left in the island. The news came, however, that
a part of the French fleet had broken out of Toulon, and Lord Hood at once
started in pursuit, leaving Nelson to conduct the operations.
Taking the troops, which were now commanded by General Stuart, a man of
very different stamp from D’Aubant, Nelson landed them on the 19th June
without opposition at a narrow inlet three miles and a half from the town.
A body of seamen were also landed under Will. These instantly began, as at
Bastia, to get the guns up the hills to form a battery.
The enemy were strongly protected with four outlying forts. There were
also in the harbour two French frigates, the _Melpomene_ and the
_Mignonne_. The proceedings resembled those at Bastia. The work
accomplished was tremendous, and batteries sprang up as if by magic.
At the end of June Lord Hood returned from watching the French, and the
work proceeded even more vigorously than before. As at Bastia, Nelson
animated his men by his energy and example. He himself was wounded by some
stones which were driven up by a shot striking the ground close to him,
and lost the sight of his right eye for ever. But although his suffering
was very severe he would not interrupt his labours for a single day.
Presently the batteries opened fire, and one by one the outlying forts
were stormed, and the town itself attacked. At last, on the 1st of August,
the enemy proposed a capitulation. This was granted to them on the terms
that if the Toulon fleet did not arrive in seven days they would lay down
their arms, and surrender the two frigates. The Toulon fleet was, however,
in no position to risk a battle with Lord Hood’s powerful squadron, and
accordingly on the 10th the garrison surrendered and marched out of the
great gate of the town with the honours of war. Nelson was exultant at the
thought that the capture of this town, as well as Bastia, was the
achievement of his sailors, that the batteries had been constructed by
them, the guns dragged up by them, and with the exception only of a single
artillery-man all the guns also fought by them.
Will gained very great credit by his work. He had a natural gift for
handling heavy weights, and he had thoroughly learnt the lesson that the
power and endurance of English sailors could surmount obstacles that
appeared insuperable.