The _Terrible_ was with difficulty kept afloat while jury-masts were
being got up, and sails were made to carry her to Jamaica. Never had
her brave crew felt so unwilling to meet a foe; but, as Tom Snell, the
boatswain's mate, observed:
"What is sauce to the goose is sauce to the gander, d'ye see, mates; and
the chances are that all ships afloat are likely to be pretty evenly
tarred with the same brush."
So it proved. The French suffered as severely as the English. Many
vessels of each nation, both men-of-war and merchantmen, were cast away;
in some cases the whole of the crew perishing, in others a few only
escaping.
Little True Blue had, therefore, at a very early age, to encounter "the
battle and the breeze."
"He was just beginning to get the use of his sea-legs," as Paul
observed; and it was his great amusement and that of the boy's other
guardians, as well as of Sam Smatch, and occasionally of the other men,
to teach him to employ them. They would sit on the deck in a circle,
and, stretching out their arms, let him run about between them. First
he began by merely crawling, and that he did at a very rapid rate; then
he got up by degrees and worked his way along their legs, and in a week
or two afterwards he could move about between them; but great was the
delight of the honest Jacks when he discarded even this support, and
toddled boldly from one to the other with a true nautical roll. What
shouts of laughter--what applause was elicited at his performances! and
Billy was almost smothered by their beards as they kissed him as a
reward for his success. Even at this early age, Billy showed, as most
children do, a strong inclination to have his own way; but, loving him
heartily as they did, they had been too well disciplined themselves to
allow him to have it, and no one kept him more strictly in order than
did Paul Pringle himself.
Sam Smatch would have done his best to spoil him; but he got for his
pains several severe pulls by the ears, boxes on the cheek, and kicks on
the shins, so at last he fortunately was compelled to exert his
authority and to report him to his head guardians. Billy was a noble
little fellow; but he no more nearly approached perfection than does any
child of Adam. Billy was destined to experience, before long, more of
the ups and downs of a naval career.
It was on the 25th of August 1781, that the _Terrible_, forming one of
Rear-Admiral Sir Samuel Hood's squadron, arrived off the Chesapeake, and
then proceeded to Sandy Hook, where they joined Rear-Admiral Graves,
who, being senior officer, became commander-in-chief and sailed in quest
of the enemy. Paul Pringle and the rest of the crew of the _Terrible_
were eager once more to meet the foe.
"Here we've been a-cruising up and down these two years, and never once
been able to get alongside them Frenchmen, to have a regular-built
stand-up fight!" exclaimed Paul as he and Abel Bush and one or two
others were stretching their legs on the forecastle.
"I should just like to show a Monsieur to Billy, and tell him all about
them," observed Abel. "We can't begin too soon to teach him how he
ought to feel for them. I knows well enough that we mustn't make him
hate them, because, d'ye see, they are our enemies; but we may show him
how he must try and give them a sound drubbing whenever he can catch
them, because that's his duty to his country, and it's good for them to
pull down their pride, d'ye see."
Abel's opinion was loudly echoed by all his hearers. There soon
appeared every probability of the wishes of the old _Terribles_ being
accomplished. Early on the morning of the 6th of September, the French
fleet was discovered at anchor across the Chesapeake, extending in a
long line from Cape Henry to the Middle Ground.
The British ships were cleared for action, and stood towards the enemy.
When the French perceived them, they also got under weigh and stood to
sea, their line being formed as the ships drew from under the land. It
was a fine sight to see the two fleets thus approaching each other in
battle array. The hearts of the British tars warmed at it--their
courage rose.
"We must have Billy up and show it to him!" exclaimed Paul Pringle to
Peter Ogle. "Here, boy, you just run below and tell Sam Smatch to come
up with the child. The Monsieurs won't begin to open fire yet, and it
will do his heart good to see the sight--that it will."
Sam in a short time appeared with Billy in his arms on the forecastle.
"You don't want to keep a baby up here while de enemy is firing at us,
Paul?" said Sam, with his teeth giving signs of an inclination to
chatter.
"No fear, Sam," answered Paul with a quizzical look at the black.
"We'll take care that no harm comes to you and the baby."
He called him the baby; but little True Blue was now able to understand
much that was said to him, while he could talk in a fashion of his own.
Though his sentences were not very long, his friends understood well
enough what he meant to say; and, judging by their shouts of laughter,
it might be supposed that his remarks were witty in the extreme.
Paul now lifted him up in his arms, and pointed to the French fleet.
"See here, Billy," said he, "look out there at the Monsieurs. You must
learn to drub them some day, mind you, if we don't do it just now. You
knows what I mean?"
"Ay, ay," answered Billy, doubling his little fists; "Billy fight en'y--
fight Fen!"
The sentiment was received with the loudest applause by the crew. On
the Captain inquiring what had occurred, "It's little Billy True Blue,
sir, standing up and a-swearin' as how he'll drub the Frenchmen," was
the answer.
Even Captain Penrose at such a moment, which must be awful to all
thinking men when about to engage in deadly combat with an enemy, could
not help smiling at the account, however much he might be inclined to
doubt the correctness of the assertion.
"Let him get a little bigger before we try his metal," he replied.
"Take him below at once. We are nearing the enemy's line, and shall
soon have their shot come rattling aboard us."
The day had drawn on before the two hostile fleets could approach each
other; but the rear ships, from want of wind, were far astern when the
_Princessa_, _Shrewsbury_, _Intrepid_, and _Montague_, leading, followed
closely by the _Terrible_ and _Ajax_, got into action and bore the whole
fire of the van and centre of the French fleet. Right gallantly did the
English tars stand to their guns; and seldom have they had more need of
their boasted courage. Round-shot and chain-shot and langridge came
showering thickly down upon them. The English line was to windward, and
might easily have got out of the fight; but this the Captains disdained
to do, though anxiously looking for the assistance of their friends.
The wind more than once shifted, and each time that it did so, it
enabled the French to bring more of their ships down on the English
centre, especially on the _Terrible_. She looked like some noble
monster brought to bay. Although with one opponent abeam, and two
others on her bows, and another on her quarter, pouring their shot in
upon her, not a man flinched from his gun. Numbers fell, killed or
wounded, but their places were instantly supplied by their shipmates.
Several guns were dismounted, but others were got over from the opposite
side, and fought with the most determined spirit. The brave old Captain
walked the quarterdeck as coolly as if no enemy was in sight, casting an
eye aloft every now and then, to assure himself that the flag, which he
had resolved should fly to the last, was still untouched.
Paul Pringle was one of the quartermasters at the helm. Several
shipmates and friends had fallen around him. He saw the enemy's shot
striking the ship's sides between wind and water, and he could not help
feeling the very perilous position in which the old ship was placed. In
spite, however, of the tumult, the death and havoc which raged around
him, his thoughts turned anxiously towards his little charge down in the
distant hold. "Well, if the Captain goes, and I go, and we all go who
have charge of him, there is One above who will look after him and tend
him better than we can," he said more than once to himself. "Still I
wish he were safe out of this. For myself, I'd as lief go down with my
colours flying as strike them; but that would be hard for him, and yet
the old ship seems very uneasy. Heaven watch over him and protect him!"
As Paul said this to himself, a shot came flying from the ship on the
_Terrible's_ quarter. Suddenly Paul was torn from his hold of the
wheel, and, with two other men, was seen struggling on the other side of
the deck. Captain Penrose had at that moment faced aft and seen what
had occurred.
"Paul Pringle gone!" he said sadly to himself. "A better seaman never
died fighting for his country."
Scarcely had the well-merited eulogium passed his lips, than, from among
the mangled forms of his shipmates, and covered from head to foot with
their still warm blood, up sprang Paul himself, and with a bound
returned to the wheel, the spokes of which he grasped firmly, singing
out with stentorian voice and a prolonged cadence, "Steady!" as he
passed them rapidly round.
The man who had been ordered to take his place stopped when he saw him,
with a look of amazement, uncertain whether it was his ghost or not.
"It's myself, Jack," said he; "but it was a near touch and go, and for
some moments never did I expect to be on my legs again, let me tell you,
lad."
Still hotter and hotter grew the fight; but the firing sent down the
little air that there had been, and it fell so that no more of the
British ships could get up to the support of those engaged. Still the
van and centre bravely supported the unequal fight. The carpenter came
and reported to the Captain that he had sounded the well, and that the
water was gaining rapidly on the ship.
"Man the pumps, then, Mr Chips, and try and clear her," was the answer.
Some men were at once told off for that purpose, ill as they could be
spared from the guns, and sent below.
Scarcely had they set to work when a shot came in, carrying off the
heads of several of them; another shortly followed and destroyed the
pumps. Mr Chips and the survivors, with some of his crew whom he
collected, strenuously exerted themselves to repair the damage; but it
was a long time before they could get the pumps to work.
All this time little Billy remained with Sam in the hold. Billy, it
must be confessed, began to cry at the din and uproar, for he could not
make out what it all meant; and the teeth of the poor black, who knew
too well, began to chatter in right earnest, and his heart to quake. It
was, in truth, a very trying time for Sam. He had a lantern with him,
but it gave a very dim, uncertain light; and from the crashing just
above his head, and the rushing sound close to his ear, he knew that the
shots were finding their way in between wind and water, and that the
latter element was gaining a rapid entrance into the ship. Every now
and then the splinters, and occasionally also a shot, which fell through
the hatchways, showed him that death was being dealt rapidly around just
above him; and he dared not therefore move, as he wished to do, to the
orlop-deck, into which the shot of an enemy does not often find its way.
Then, again, the sound of the water washing about below his feet
alarmed him. He began to anticipate the most dreadful of fates.
"De poor little Billy and I will be drowned down here in dis dark hole,
and no one come to look for us. What me do? Oh dear! oh dear! Poor
little Billy!"
Then he wrung his hands bitterly, while Billy stood between his knees,
looking up inquiringly into his face, and wondering what made him so
unhappy. Then Billy cried himself, not exactly knowing why. Then he
stopped and endeavoured, as far as his knowledge of language would carry
him, to ask Sam what was the matter.
"No ask, Billy--no ask," answered Sam, shaking his head mournfully. "De
old ship very ill--hear how she groan and cry!"
Indeed, the sounds which reached their ears were very appalling. The
ship herself groaned and moaned as the water rushed through her, and the
pent-up air made its escape, and the bulkheads creaked loudly, and then
from above came the saddest shrieks and cries. They were from the
cockpit, where the poor mangled fellows who had been brought below were
placed under the hands of the surgeons. Besides all this, there was the
unceasing roar and reverberation of the guns, shaking the ship's sides
as if they were about to fall to pieces; while there was the rattle of
shot, and the crash and tearing of planks, and the rending asunder of
stout timber.
In time Billy got accustomed to the sounds, and did not seem to connect
them with any especial danger to himself and his friends. Not so poor
Sam, who grew more and more alarmed, and not without reason; for
although he was unable to ascertain how the battle itself might
terminate, he saw too evidently that unless it was shortly brought to an
end, and the crew were able to exert themselves in keeping her afloat,
the ship would go down with all on board still fighting on her decks.
Anxiously he waited. There seemed to be no cessation of firing. Then,
taking Billy in his arms, he exclaimed, "Better be shot than stay and
drown here!" and rushed frantically up the hatchway ladders.
"Down, Sam--down! Is the boy mad?" exclaimed several who saw him.
"You'll be having little Billy hit if you don't take care, Sam."
"No, Sam not mad; but de ship is sinking!" he cried out. "De ship is
sinking, I say!"
These sounds very soon reached the ears of the Captain.
"Then we'll sink with her, my boys!" he exclaimed; "for strike that
glorious flag of ours while I'm alive, I will not. Fight to the last,
my lads, say I; and let us show the boasting Frenchmen what they are to
expect from every ship they attack before they can hope to take her."
The officers and men who stood near echoed the sentiment, and from gun
to gun along the decks it flew, till the whole ship's company broke
forth into one loud enthusiastic cheer.
Probably the Frenchmen heard it; but they continued firing with effect,
till suddenly their helms were put up, and, their rigging being in far
better condition than that of the English, away they stood before the
wind towards the mouth of the Chesapeake; and as the shades of night
were rapidly closing down on the world of waters, they were soon hid
from sight. The English seamen, as they receded into obscurity, looked
at the enemy with hatred and contempt. Forbidden by the Admiral to
follow, and in truth unable to do so, they felt like chained mastiffs
bearded in their kennels by a pack of yelping hounds, who have carried
off their bones and pretty severely handled them at the same time. It
must be confessed, indeed, that although the French could not claim a
victory, they decidedly had the best of it in the fight, their ships
having suffered much less than those of the English.
The Count de Grasse, in the _Ville de Paris_, commanded, and he gained
his object of landing a body of troops to assist the Americans, which
contributed so much to their success over Lord Cornwallis.
Once more the British ships were left alone, the enemy having, to all
appearance, vanished into thin air. The reports brought from time to
time to Captain Penrose were truly disheartening. With many men killed,
and still greater numbers wounded, and the rest pretty well knocked up
with their exertions, it was difficult work to keep the pumps going, by
which alone the ship could be saved from going down. There was to be no
slumber or rest for any one during all that night; and the Captain and
officers could only feel thankful that a gale did not spring up, or that
the enemy did not come out and have a brush with them.
When morning broke, the signal for the fleet to get more to windward and
to repair damages was flying at the masthead of the flagship. The order
was obeyed, and all the day was spent in plugging shot-holes, and in
bending new sails or mending rent ones, and in reeving fresh running
rigging. Captain Penrose, with an excusable feeling, could not bring
himself to reveal the condition of the old _Terrible_ to the Admiral.
"If we must go down, let us first get alongside the enemy, and then,
yardarm to yardarm, let us both go down together, or carry her by
boarding, and win a new ship for ourselves!" he exclaimed while talking
the matter over with his officers.
The idea was approved of by all of them, and they all expressed a hope
that the opportunity might be allowed them of carrying it into
execution. As was intended, it was repeated to the men, and soon passed
along the decks, all joining heartily in the wish that, they might thus
have the chance of punishing the enemy.
"But what is to be done with little Billy True Blue?" inquired Sam
Smatch. "He can't board with the rest, I guess."
"No, Sam; but we will have a bodyguard for him," observed Peter Ogle.
"When Paul Pringle comes for'ard, we'll ax him what he says to it. When
we board and drive the Frenchmen before us, the bodyguard, with Billy in
the middle, must follow closely after; and then, d'ye see, we shall win
a prize, take care of Billy, and lick the Frenchmen all under one."
When Paul Pringle heard of the plan, he highly approved of it, at the
same time that he put the question, "Who's to take care of Billy, mates,
and form this same bodyguard you speak of?"
Now, of course, everybody would wish to do the fighting part, and to be
among the first on board the enemy's ship. Who would form the
bodyguard? That was a poser. Of course Sam Smatch would be one; but
then by himself he would not be of much use, as his wooden leg might
chance to stick in a hole and stop his progress. At last they agreed to
refer the matter to the Captain, and to get him to tell off a body of
men for that purpose.
Paul Pringle was selected to be the bearer of the message. Hat in hand,
he stood before his Captain.
"What is it, Pringle?" asked the old man.
"Why, sir, please you, I be come about the business of the ship's child,
sir, Billy True Blue," began Paul. "We hear as how we are to get
alongside an enemy and to take her, and we've been thinking how we are
to get little Billy safe aboard if the _Terrible_, bless her old ribs!
was for to take it into her head to go down; and we thinks as how if he
was to have a bodyguard, whose business was to keep round him and look
after him, seeing as how Sam Smatch can't do that same by himself, that
it would be the best thing for the youngster we can arrange."
Much more to the same effect Paul explained; and the Captain finally
promised that if there was a chance of getting alongside an enemy, he
would appoint some men to the duty.
"And what is more, I will place the party under command of Mr Garland,"
said the Captain. "Billy is such a pet with him, that I am sure he will
do his best to defend him."
"That I know he will, sir!" exclaimed Paul. "That will just do, sir.
None on 'em will fight the worse for knowing how kind you've been to
us--that they won't;" and honest Paul scraped his way out of the cabin.
The enemy, however, showed no inclination to give them the chance they
wished for. Although Admiral Graves kept his fleet sailing up and down
in front of them, they continued to leeward, without any attempt to
approach. The Count de Grasse was more intent on carrying out his
immediate object of effecting the safe debarkation of the troops than in
sustaining the honour of his nation. He was a wise man, for by risking
an action he might have been defeated and lost the attainment of both
objects.
In spite of the battered condition of the _Terrible_, she maintained her
position in the line; but she was only kept afloat by the most strenuous
and unremitting exertions of her brave crew. Another night and day
passed, and each hour the difficulty of keeping her afloat became more
apparent. Her masts and spars, too, were much wounded, and it became a
question how she would be able to weather even a moderate gale. Still
the ship's company worked on cheerfully, in hopes that they might have
the chance of gaining a ship for themselves. At length the wind fell
very light, and the Admiral, ordering the fleet to lay to, sent an
officer on board each ship which had been engaged, to inquire into her
condition and the state of the wounded. It was a trying time when the
Captain of the flagship himself came on board the _Terrible_. Half the
men were lying about between the guns, overcome with fatigue, while the
remainder were working away at the pumps in a way which showed that they
knew their lives depended on their exertions. He examined the ship
below, and when he went on deck he cast his eye on the masts and spars.
He then took Captain Penrose aside, and, after talking with him, went
back to the flagship. He soon returned, and a few more words passed
between him and the Captain.
Captain Penrose then appeared on the quarterdeck with a sorrowful
countenance.
"Gentlemen," said he with a voice almost choked with emotion, turning to
his officers, "and you, my gallant fellows, who have served with me so
long and so faithfully, I have sad news to tell you. It is the opinion
of those competent to judge, that we cannot hope to keep the old ship
afloat much longer. If we could put her on shore, we might save her to
carry us yet longer through the `battle and the breeze;' but we have
only a hostile shore under our lee, with an enemy's fleet in sight, far
superior to ours, and which has lately been reinforced by five
ships-of-the-line; and therefore, my friends, it has been decided that
we must abandon and destroy her."
The old man could scarcely speak for some minutes, while a general groan
ran through the ship's company. Paul Pringle turned his eyes towards
the distant fleet of the enemy, and thought, "But why can't we get
alongside some of them Monsieurs and take a ship for ourselves? We'd do
it--we knows we could, if the Captain would give the word."
The men were mistaken; but the expressions to which they gave vent
showed the spirit which animated them.
"Now, my lads," continued the Captain, "the boats of the squadron will
soon be alongside. Each man will have ready his bag and hammock; the
officers their clothes, nautical instruments, and desks. One thing I
promise you,--and that's a satisfaction to all, I know, boys, as it is
to me,--that, come what may, our stout old ship, which has carried us so
long through the tempest and the fight, will never fall into the hands
of our enemies."
The last remark was received with a loud shout, which seemed, as it was
intended to do, to relieve the spirits of the men.
"Well, lads," the Captain went on, "I wish that I had nothing more
painful to say; but another bad part of the business is, that I must be
separated from the larger number of you who have served with me so
bravely and faithfully. I am appointed to the _Fame_, whose Captain has
been badly wounded, and will go home; and I may take with me one hundred
and ten men--the rest will be distributed among the ships of the fleet
short of their complement. The first lieutenant will call over the
names of those selected to go with me; but, lads,--my dear lads, who are
to be parted from me,--don't suppose that I would not gladly have you
also--ay, every one of you; and wherever you go, you will, I am sure,
prove a credit to the ship you have served in, and the Captain you have
served under."
The Captain could not go on, and many a rough seaman passed the collar
of his jacket across his eyes; and then, led by Tom Snell, they gave
three thundering cheers for the Captain and officers of the dear old
ship they were going to leave for ever.
In a short time the boats of the squadron came alongside. The
intermediate period had been spent in getting their bags and bedding
ready, and now all stood prepared for the word to step into the boats.
Of course the Captain had chosen Paul Pringle; so he had Abel Bush, and
Peter Ogle, and Tom Snell, and the other assistant-guardians of little
Billy, while Sergeant Bolton with some of his marines were drafted into
his new ship, and Sam Smatch was thrown in to the bargain.
Captain Penrose had chosen Natty Garland to be among the officers to
accompany him. He had called him up before the ship was abandoned.
"Most of your messmates and friends are appointed to other ships,
Garland," he said; "I can probably get you a berth on board nearly any
you may like to name, or, if you like to follow your old Captain's
fortunes, I will take you with me."
"Oh, sir, I will go with you without a moment's doubt!" answered the
young midshipman warmly. "I am sure, wherever you are, I shall find the
right sort of work to be done."
"I trust you may, my lad," answered the old man, smiling and putting out
his hand. From that time he became a greater friend than ever of the
brave boy.
The _Fame_ now bore down to receive her new Captain and the addition to
her ship's company. Three of the _Terrible's_ officers accompanied
their Captain; the rest were distributed among the vacancies in the
fleet. There floated the old _Terrible_, with her well-riddled and torn
sails furled, but her pendant, and ensign, and Union-Jack still flying
at her peak and mastheads. She was deserted. The lieutenants, with the
master-at-arms and the quartermasters, had gone round her decks to
assure themselves that no human being remained in her. The shot, too,
had been withdrawn from all the guns; and such things belonging to her
as could be more easily removed had been carried away. Now the four
lieutenants in as many boats returned. Accompanied by picked men, they
went to different parts of the ship. As they walked along her silent
decks, the groans and sighs which rose from below made their hearts feel
sad. They descended to different parts of the hold, and, each
collecting such combustible materials as they could find, set fire to
them and hastily retreated. Once more they returned to the boats and
pulled away for the _Fame_. Night was coming rapidly on. Scarcely had
they reached the deck of the _Fame_ before flames burst forth from every
part of the _Terrible_, Brighter and fiercer they grew. Now they found
their way through the hatchways and climbed up the masts and rigging;
they twisted and turned along the bowsprit and out to the taffrail.
Still by their glare could be seen the victorious flag of England waving
proudly in the breeze.
Now, fore and aft, the old _Terrible_ was one mass of flame,--a huge
pyramid of fire,--which shed a lurid glare on the clouds above, on the
surrounding water, and on the white sails and dark hulls of the ships.
Suddenly there was a concussion which shook the very atmosphere, and
made the ships roll and shiver as if struck with an ague. Now up in one
mass of fire rose the upper deck, and masts, and spars, high into the
air, where for an instant they hung suspended, and then, bursting into
millions of burning fragments, down they came, scattered far and wide,
hissing into the ocean. Here and there, for a few minutes, some shining
flames could be seen scattered about; but they quickly disappeared, the
hull itself sank, and now but a very few charred fragments remained of
the fine old _Terrible_. A groan burst from the bosoms of the gallant
tars who had lately manned her, joined in equally by her Captain; and
Billy True Blue, breaking into a flood of tears, was carried still
inconsolable to his hammock.