“The time you went with Giles Vernon. If the coach had broken down
between London and Portsmouth, we should have sailed without either one
of you.”
I did not mention that the coach had upset, but merely said that we
thought there was no danger of any detention, and that Giles Vernon was
in no way responsible for my going to London, as he knew nothing about
it until we met at the coach door.
[Illustration: He turned his back every time Sir Peter filled his
glass. _Page 44_]
I was revolving in my mind whether I could venture to ask of the
welfare of the divine Arabella, and suddenly a direct inspiration came
to me. I remarked--with blushes and tremors, I must admit,--
“How very like Lady Arabella Stormont must Lady Hawkshaw have been at
her age! And Lady Arabella is a very beautiful young lady.”
Sir Peter grinned like a rat-trap at this awkward compliment, and
remarked,--
“Yes, yes, Arabella is like my lady, except not half so handsome. Egad,
when I married Lady Hawkshaw, I had to cut my way, literally with my
sword, through the body-guard of gentlemen who wanted her. And as for
her relations--well, she defied ’em, that’s all.”
I tried, with all the little art I possessed, to get some information
concerning Arabella out of Sir Peter; but beyond telling me what I knew
before,--that she was his great-niece on the other side of the house
and first cousin to Daphne, and that her father, now dead, was a scamp
and a pauper, in spite of being an earl,--he told me nothing. But even
that seemed to show the great gulf between us. Would she, with her
beauty and her title, condescend to a midshipman somewhat younger than
herself, and penniless? I doubted it, though I was, in general, of a
sanguine nature.
I found Sir Peter unbent as the decanters grew empty, although I would
not for a moment imply that he was excessive in his drinking. Only, the
mellow glow which pervades an English gentleman after a few glasses of
good port enveloped him. He asked me if I was glad I had joined the
service,--to which I could say yes with great sincerity; impressed upon
me my good fortune in getting in a ship of the line in the beginning,
and gave me some admirable advice. I left him with a feeling that I
had a friend in that excellent seaman, honest gentleman, and odd fish,
Admiral Sir Peter Hawkshaw.
When I went below, I told my messmates all that had occurred, rather
exaggerating Sir Peter’s attentions to me, as midshipmen will. Then
privately I confided to Giles Vernon. I told what little I had found
out concerning the star of my soul, as I called Arabella, to which
Giles responded by a long-drawn-out “Ph-ew!”
I implored him, if he knew any officer in the ship who would be
likely to be acquainted with Lady Arabella, to pump him for me. This
he promised; and the very next day, as I sat on a locker, studying my
theorems, Giles came up.
“Dicky,” said he, “Mr. Buxton knows the divine Arabella. She has a
fortune of thirty thousand pounds, and so has the dove-eyed little
Daphne, all inherited from their granddad, a rich Bombay merchant. It
seems that Lady Arabella’s mother bought a coronet with her money,
and it turned out a poor bargain. However, the earl did not live long
enough to ruin his father-in-law; and little Daphne’s parents, too,
died young, so the old Bombay man left the girls his fortune, and
made Sir Peter their guardian, and that means, of course, that Polly
Hawkshaw is their guardian. Mr. Buxton says he would like to see the
fortune-hunter who can rob Polly of those two damsels. For Polly says
rank and lineage are not everything. She herself, you know, dates back
to the Saxon Heptarchy, though she did marry the son of your drysalting
great-grandfather. And she wants those girls to marry _men_; and what
Polly says on that score is to be respected, considering that she
married into a drysalting family to please herself, or to displease
her relations, I don’t know which. I should say, though, if you are
honest and deserving, and mind your book, and get a good word from the
chaplain, you will probably one day be the husband of little Daphne,
but not of Lady Arabella; no man shall marry her while I live, that
you may be sure of; but when I marry her, you may be side-boy at my
wedding.”
I thought this speech very cruel of Giles Vernon, and believed that he
did not know what true love was, else he could not so trifle with my
feelings, although there was an echo of earnestness in his intimation
that he would kill any man who aspired to marry Lady Arabella.
We were three weeks in the Bay of Biscay, thrashing to windward under
topgallant-sails, and expecting daily and hourly to run across a
Frenchman. We were hoping for it, because we found the _Ajax_ to be a
very weatherly ship and fast for her class; and both Captain Guilford
and Sir Peter, who had sailed in her before, knew exactly how to handle
her. And we were to have our wish. For, one evening toward sunset, we
sighted a French ship of the line off our beam; and by the time we had
made her out, a light French frigate was coming down the wind, and in
an hour we were at it hammer and tongs with both of them.
The Frenchmen thought they had us. We heard afterward that a prize crew
was already told off to take us into Corunna, but no man or boy on the
_Ajax_ dreamed of giving up the ship.
The _Ajax_ was cleared for action in eleven minutes; and, with four
ensigns flying, we headed for the ship of the line, which was waiting
for us, with her topsails shivering. The _Ajax_ had been lately
coppered, and, with all sail to royals set, legged it at a lively gait,
in spite of the heavy sea, which occasionally caused our lower-deck
guns to roll their noses in the water. As we wallowed toward the ship
of the line, which was the _Indomptable_, the frigate, the _Xantippe_,
was manœuvering for a position on our starboard quarter to rake us.
Seeing this, the _Ajax_ came up a little into the wind, which brought
our broadside to bear directly on the _Xantippe_, and she hedged off a
little.
The steadiness, coolness, and precision with which the ship was
handled astonished my young mind. I knew very well that if we were
defeated, Sir Peter Hawkshaw would stand no show of leniency, for
there was no doubt that, owing to our new copper, we could easily have
outsailed the Frenchmen; but Sir Peter preferred to outfight them, even
against desperate odds.
The officers and men had entire confidence in Sir Peter and in the
ship, and went into action with the heartiest good-will imaginable.
The people were amused by two powder monkeys coming to blows in the
magazine passage over which one would be entitled to the larger share
of prize-money. The gaiety of the men was contagious. Every man’s
face wore a grin; and when the word was given to take in the royals,
and send down the yards, furl all staysails and the flying jib, they
literally rushed into the rigging with an “Aye, aye, sir,” that seemed
to shake the deck.
The admiral, who had been on the bridge, left it and went below.
Presently he came up. He was in his best uniform, with a gold-hilted
sword, his order of the Bath on his breast, and he wore a cocked hat.
As he passed me, Mr. Buxton, who was stepping along briskly, said,--
“Pardon me, Sir Peter, but a French musket wants no better target than
a cocked hat.”
“Sir,” replied Sir Peter, “I have always fought in a cocked hat and
silk stockings, as becomes a gentleman; and I shall always fight in a
cocked hat and silk stockings, damme!”
Mr. Buxton passed on, laughing.
Now, I had taken the opportunity, after we had sighted the Frenchman,
to run below and put on my newest uniform, with silk stockings, and to
get out several cambric pocket handkerchiefs; and I had also scented
myself liberally with some attar of rose, which I had bought in
Portsmouth. Sir Peter, putting his fingers to his nose, sniffed the
attar of rose, and, speedily identifying me, he surveyed me calmly all
over, while I blushed and found myself unable to stand still under his
searching gaze. When he spoke, however, it was in words of praise.
“Nephew, you have the right idea. It is a holiday when we meet the
enemy, and officers should dress accordingly.”
Mr. Buxton, who was standing near, sneaked off a little. He had on
an old coat, such as I had never seen him wear, and had removed his
stock and tied a red silk handkerchief around his neck. He certainly
did not look quite the gentleman. The _Indomptable_, being then about
half a mile distant, bore up and fired a shot to windward, which was an
invitation to come on and take a licking or give one. The _Ajax_ was
not misled into the rashness of coming on, with the _Xantippe_ hanging
on her quarter, but, luffing up suddenly,--for she answered her helm
beautifully,--she brought the frigate directly under her guns; and that
fetched the _Indomptable_ as fast as she could trot. The _Ajax_ opened
the ball with one of her long twenty-fours, Sir Peter himself sighting
and pointing the gun; and immediately after the whole broadside roared
out. Had it struck the frigate full, it would have sent her to the
bottom; but by hauling quickly by the wind, she only received about
half the discharge. That, however, was terrible. Her mizzenmast was cut
off, and hung over her side in a mass of torn rigging; her mainmast was
wounded; and it was plain that our broadside had killed and wounded
many men, and had dismounted several guns. Her wheel, however, was
uninjured, and in an inconceivably short time the wreck of the mast had
been cut away; and wearing, with the wind in her favor, she got into a
raking position on our port quarter, and gave us a broadside that raked
us from stern to stem.
The savage which dwells in man had made me perfectly indifferent to
the loss of life on the French ship; but when a man dropped dead at my
side, I fell into a passion of rage, and, I must honestly admit, of
fear. My station was amidships, and I recalled, with a dreadful sinking
of the heart, that it was commonly known as the slaughter-house, from
the execution generally done there.
I looked down and saw the man’s blood soaking into the sand, with which
the deck was plentifully strewed, and I, Richard Glyn, longed to desert
my station and run below. But as I turned, I caught sight of Giles
Vernon, a little distance away from me. He was smiling and waving his
hat, and he cried out,--
“See, boys! the big ’un is coming to take her punishment! Huzza!”
The _Indomptable_ had then approached to within a quarter of a mile,
and as a heavy sea was kicked up by the wind, and all three of the
ships were rolling extremely, she luffed up to deliver her broadside;
and at that moment three thundering cheers broke from the nine hundred
throats on the _Ajax_, and they were instantly answered by a cheer as
great from the Frenchman. Owing to the sharp roll, most of the French
shot went a little too high, just above the heads of the marines, who
were drawn up in the waist of the ship. My paroxysm of fear still held
me, but when I saw these men, with the one proud word “Gibraltar”
written on their hats, standing steadily, as if at parade, in the
midst of the hurricane of fire, the men as cool as their officers,
shame seized me for my cowardice; from that on, I gradually mastered
my alarms. I here mention a strange thing; as long as I was a coward
at heart, I was also a villain; for if one single shot could have sent
the Frenchman’s body to the sea and his soul to hell, I would have
fired that shot. But when I was released from the nightmare of fear,
a feeling of mercy stole into my soul. I began to feel for our brave
enemy and to wish that we might capture him with as little loss as
possible.
The cannonade now increased; but the wind, which is usually deadened,
continued to rise, and both the heavy ships were almost rolling their
yard-arms in the water. The _Indomptable’s_ fire was exceedingly
steady, but not well directed, while, after ten minutes of a close
fire, it was seen that we were fast shooting her spars out of her.
The frigate, much disabled by the loss of her mast, had fallen off to
leeward, and never got close enough again to be of any assistance to
her consort.
The _Ajax’s_ people began to clamor to get alongside, and alongside we
got. As we neared the _Indomptable_, occasionally yawing to prevent
being raked, his metal began to tell, and we were much cut up aloft,
besides having been hulled repeatedly; but we came on steadily. The man
at the wheel had nearly all his clothes torn off him by a splinter, but
with the spirit of a true seaman, he stood at his post unflinchingly,
never letting go of the spokes for one moment. When we were within a
couple of pistol-shot, the Frenchman opened a smart musketry fire. Sir
Peter had left the bridge for a moment and was crossing the deck, when
a ball went through his hat, knocking it off and tearing it to pieces.
He stooped down, picked it up, and then called out to a powder boy who
was passing.
“Go to my cabin, and in the upper drawer of the locker to the left of
my bed-place, you will see two cocked hats; bring me the newest one.
Hanged if I’ll not wear a decent hat, in spite of the Frenchman!”
And this man was ruled by his wife!
We hove to about a cable’s length from the Frenchman, and then the
fight began in earnest. We were so near that every shot told. The
Frenchman made great play with his main-deck battery, and our sails
and rigging soon were so cut up, that when we came foul, a few minutes
later, we were jammed fast; but nobody on either ship wished it
otherwise. The Frenchman’s main-yard swung directly over our poop,
and Captain Guilford himself made it fast to our mizzen rigging. The
Frenchman, however, was not yet beaten at the guns, and the firing was
so heavy on both sides that a pall of smoke enveloped both ships. This
was to our advantage, for the frigate, having got some sail on the
stump of her mizzenmast, now approached; but the wind drifted the smoke
so between her and the two fighting ships, that she could not in the
dim twilight plainly discern friend from foe, especially as both were
painted black, and we swung together with the sea and wind. When the
smoke drifted off, the gallant but unfortunate _Xantippe_ found herself
directly under our broadside. We gave her one round from our main
battery, and she troubled us no more.
Of my own feelings, I can only say that I welcomed the return of my
courage so rapturously, I felt capable of heroic things. Occasionally
I recognized Sir Peter as he flitted past; he seemed everywhere at
once, and I perceived that although Captain Guilford was technically
fighting the ship, Sir Peter was by no means an idle spectator. My gun
was on the engaged side all the time, and several of the guns on that
side became disabled, and officers were wounded or killed; it brought
Giles Vernon quite close to me. Through the smoke and the fast-falling
darkness, lighted only by the red flash of the guns and the glare of
the battle lanterns, I could see his face. He never lost his smile, and
his ringing voice always led the cheering.
Presently, the Frenchman’s fire slackened, and then a dull, rumbling
sound was heard in the depths of the _Indomptable_, followed by a roar
and streams of light from the fore-hatch. The forward magazine had
exploded, and it seemed in the awful crash and blaze as if all the
masts and spars went skyward, with the rags of the sails, and a solemn
hush and silence followed the explosion.