The boat moved on--but whither? Not Marcial himself knew where he was
steering her to. The darkness was so complete that we lost sight of
the other boats and the lights on board the _Prince_ were as invisible
through the fog, as though a gust of wind had extinguished them. The
waves ran so high and the squalls were so violent that our frail bark
made very little way, but thanks to skilful steering she only once
shipped water. We all sat silent, most of us fixing a melancholy gaze
on the spot where we supposed our deserted comrades were at this
moment engaged in an agonizing death-struggle. In the course of this
passage I could not fail to make, as was my habit, certain reflections
which I may venture to call philosophical. Some may laugh at a
philosopher of fourteen; but I will not heed their laughter; I will
try to write down the thoughts that occupied me at this juncture.
Children too can think great thoughts and at such a moment, in face
of such a spectacle, what brain but an idiot's could remain unmoved.
There were both English and Spaniards in our boat--though most
Spaniards--and it was strange to note how they fraternized, helping
and encouraging each other in their common danger, and quite
forgetting that only the day before they had been killing each other
in hideous fight, more like wild beasts than men. I looked at the
English who rowed with as good a will as our own sailors, I saw in
their faces the same tokens of fear or of hope, and above all the same
expression, sacred to humanity, of kindness and fellowship which was
the common motive of all. And as I noted it I said to myself: "Good
God! why are there wars? Why cannot these men be friends under all the
circumstances of life as they are in danger? Is not such a scene as
this enough to prove that all men are brothers?"
But the idea of nationality suddenly occurred to me to cut short these
speculations, and my geographical theory of islands. "To be sure,"
said I to myself, "the islands must need want to rob each other of
some portion of the land, and that is what spoils everything. And
indeed there must be a great many bad men there who make wars for
their own advantage, because they are ambitious and wish for power,
or are avaricious and wish for wealth. It is these bad men who deceive
the rest--all the miserable creatures who do the fighting for them;
and to make the fraud complete, they set them against other nations,
sow discord and foment envy--and here you see the consequences. I am
certain"--added I to myself, "that this can never go on; I will bet
two to one that before long the inhabitants of the different Islands
will be convinced that they are committing a great folly in making
such tremendous wars, and that a day will come when they will embrace
each other and all agree to be like one family." So I thought then;
and now, after sixty years of life, I have not seen that day dawn.
The launch labored on through the heavy sea. I believe that if only my
master would have consented Marcial would have been quite ready to
pitch the English overboard and steer the boat to Cadiz or the nearest
coast, even at the imminent risk of foundering on the way. I fancy he
had suggested something of the kind to Don Alonso, speaking in a low
voice, and that my master wished to give him a lesson in honor, for I
heard him say:
"We are prisoners, Marcial--we are prisoners."
The worst of it was that no vessel came in sight. The _Prince_ had
moved off, and no light on either side told us of the existence of an
English ship. At last, however, we descried one at some distance and a
few minutes later the vague outline came in sight of a ship before the
storm, to our windward, and on the opposite tack to ours. Some thought
it was a Frenchman, others said it was English; Marcial was sure she
was a Spaniard. We pulled hard to meet her and were soon within
speaking distance. Our men hailed her and the answer was in Spanish.
"It is the _San Agustin_" said Marcial.
"The _San Agustin_ was sunk," said Don Alonso; "I believe it is the
_Santa Ana_ which was also captured." In fact, as we got close, we all
recognized the _Santa Ana_ which had gone into action under the
command of Alava. The English officers in charge immediately prepared
to take us on board, and before long we were all safe and sound on
deck.
The _Santa Ana_, 112 guns, had suffered severely, though not to such
an extent as the _Santísima Trinidad_; for, though she had lost all
her masts and her rudder, the hull was fairly sound. The _Santa Ana_
survived the battle of Trafalgar eleven years, and would have lived
much longer if she had not gone to the bottom for want of repairs in
the bay of Havana, in 1816. She had behaved splendidly in the fight.
She was commanded, as I have said, by Vice-admiral Alava leader of the
van which, as the order of battle was altered, became the rear. As the
reader knows, the line of English ships led by Collingwood attacked
the Spanish rear while Nelson took the centre. The _Santa Ana_, only
supported by the _Fougueux_, a Frenchman, had to fight the _Royal
Sovereign_ and four other English ships; and in spite of their unequal
strength one side suffered as much as the other, for Collingwood's
ship was the first to retire and the _Euryalus_ took her place. By all
accounts the fighting was terrific, and the two great ships, whose
masts were almost entangled, fired into each other for six hours until
Alava and Gardoqui, both being wounded (Alava subsequently died), five
officers and ninety-seven sailors being killed, besides more than 150
wounded, the _Santa Ana_ was forced to surrender. The English took
possession of her, but it was impossible to work her on account of her
shattered condition, and the dreadful storm that rose during the night
of the 21st; so when we went on board she was in a very critical,
though not a desperate situation, floating at the mercy of the wind
and waves and unable to make any course. From that moment I was
greatly comforted by seeing that every face on board betrayed a dread
of approaching death. They were all very sad and quiet, enduring with
a solemn mien the disgrace of defeat and the sense of being prisoners.
One circumstance I could not help observing, and that was that the
English officers in charge of the ship were not by a great deal so
polite or so kind as those sent on board the _Trinidad_; on the
contrary, among those on the _Santa Ana_ were some who were both stern
and repellent, doing all they could to mortify us, exaggerating their
own dignity and authority, and interfering in everything with the
rudest impertinence. This greatly annoyed the captured crew,
particularly the sailors; and I fancied I overheard many alarming
murmurs of rebellion which would have been highly disquieting to the
English if they had come to their ears.
Beyond this there is nothing to tell of our progress that night--if
progress it can be called when we were driven at the will of the wind
and waves, sailless and rudderless. Nor do I wish to weary the reader
with a repetition of the scenes we had witnessed on board the
_Trinidad_, so I will go on to other and newer incidents which will
surprise him as much as they did me.
I had lost my liking for hanging about the deck and poop, and as soon
as we got on board the _Santa Ana_ I took shelter in the cabin with my
master, hoping to get food and rest, both of which I needed sorely.
However, I found there many wounded who required constant attention
and this duty, which I gladly fulfilled, prevented my getting the
sleep which my wearied frame required. I was engaged in placing a
bandage on Don Alonso's arm when a hand was laid on my shoulder. I
turned round and saw a tall young officer wrapped in a large blue
cloak whom I did not immediately recognize; but after gazing at him
for a few seconds, I exclaimed aloud with surprise; it was Don Rafael
Malespina, my young mistress's lover.
My master embraced him affectionately and he sat down by us. He had
been wounded in the shoulder, and was so pale from fatigue and loss of
blood that his face looked quite altered. His presence here filled me
with strange sensations--some of which I am fain to own were anything
rather than pleasing. At first I felt glad enough indeed to see any
one I knew and who had come out alive from those scenes of horror, but
the next moment my old aversion for this man rose up, as strong as
ever in my breast, like some dormant pain reviving to torment me after
an interval of respite. I confess with shame that I was sorry to see
him safe and sound, but I must do myself the justice to add that the
regret was but momentary, as brief as a lightning flash--a flash of
blackness, as I may say, darkening my soul; or rather a transient
eclipse of the light of conscience which shone clearly again in the
next instant. The evil side of my nature for a moment came uppermost;
but I was able to suppress it at once and drive it down again to the
depths whence it had come. Can every one say as much?
After this brief mental struggle I could look at Malespina, glad that
he was alive and sorry that he was hurt; and I remember, not without
pride, that I did all I could to show him my feelings. Poor little
mistress! How terrible must her anguish have been all this time. My
heart overflowed with pitiful kindness at the thought--I could have
run all the way to Vejer to say: "Señorita Doña Rosa, your Don Rafael
is safe and sound."
The luckless Malespina had been brought on board the _Santa Ana_ from
the _Nepomuceno_, which had also been captured, and with so many
wounded on board that it had been necessary, as we learnt, to
distribute them or they must have perished of neglect. When the father
and his daughter's _fiancé_ had exchanged the first greetings and
spoken of the absent ones on shore, the conversation turned on the
details of the battle. My master related all that had occurred on
board the _Trinidad_ and then he added: "But no one has told me
exactly what has become of Gravina. Was he taken prisoner, or has he
got off to Cadiz?"
"The Admiral," said Malespina, "stood a terrific fire from the
_Defiance_ and the _Revenge_. The _Neptune_, a Frenchman, came to her
assistance with the _San Ildefonso_ and the _San Justo_; but our
enemies were reinforced by the _Dreadnought_, the _Thunderer_, and the
_Polyphemus_; so that resistance was hopeless. Seeing the _Príncipe de
Astúrias_ with all her tackle cut, her masts overboard and her sides
riddled with balls, while Gravina himself and Escaño, his second in
command, were both wounded, they resolved on giving up the struggle
which was quite in vain for the battle was lost. Gravina hoisted the
signal to retire on the stump of a mast and sailed off for Cadiz,
followed by the _San Justo_, the _San Leandro_, the _Montañes_ and
three others; only regretting their inability to rescue the _San
Ildefonso_ which had fallen into the hands of the enemy."
"But tell us what happened on board the _Nepomuceno_," said my
master, deeply interested. "I can hardly believe that Churruca can be
dead; and, though every one tells me that he is, I cannot help
fancying that that wonderful man must still be alive somewhere on
earth."
But Malespina told him that it had been his misfortune to see Churruca
killed and said he would relate every detail. A few officers gathered
round him while I, as curious as they could be, was all ears in order
not to lose a syllable.
"Even as we came out of Cadiz," said Malespina, "Churruca had a
presentiment of disaster. He had voted against sailing out to sea, for
he knew the inferiority of our armament, and he also had little
confidence in Villeneuve's skill and judgment. All his predictions
were verified--all, even to his own death: for there is no doubt that
he had foreseen it as surely as he did our defeat. On the 19th he had
said to Apodaca, his brother-in-law, before going on board: 'Sooner
than surrender my ship, I will blow her up or go to the bottom. That
is the duty of every man who serves his king and country.' And the
same day, writing to a friend, he said: 'If you hear that my ship is
taken you will know that I am dead.'
"Indeed it was legible in his sad grave face that he looked forward
to nothing but a catastrophe. I believe that this conviction, and the
absolute impossibility of avoiding defeat while feeling himself strong
enough for his own part, seriously weighed upon his mind, for he was
as capable of great deeds as he was of noble thoughts.
"Churruca's was a religious as well as a superior mind. On the 21st,
at eleven in the morning, he called up all the soldiers and crew; he
bid them all kneel and said to his chaplain in solemn tones: 'Fulfil
your function, holy Father, and absolve these brave souls that know
not what this fight may have in store for them.' When the priest had
pronounced absolution Churruca desired them to stand up, and speaking
in friendly but audible tones he added: 'My children all:--In God's
name I promise heavenly bliss to all who die doing their duty. If one
of you shirks it he shall be shot on the spot; or, if he escapes my
notice or that of the gallant officers I have the honor to command,
his remorse shall pursue him so long as he crawls through the rest of
his miserable and dishonored days.'
"This harangue, as eloquent as it was wise, combining the ideas of
religion and of military duty, filled every man on board with
enthusiasm. Alas for all these brave hearts!--wasted like gold sunk
at the bottom of the ocean! Face to face with the English, Churruca
watched Villeneuve's preliminary manœuvres with entire disapproval,
and when the signal was given for the whole fleet to turn about--a
manœuvre which, as we know, reversed the order of battle--he told his
captain in so many words that this blunder had lost us the day. He
immediately understood the masterly plan struck out by Nelson of
cutting our line through the centre from the rear, and engaging the
whole fleet at once, dealing with our ships in separate divisions so
that they could not assist each other.
"The _Nepomuceno_ was at the end of the line. The _Royal Sovereign_
and the _Santa Ana_ opened fire and then all the ships in turn came
into action. Five English vessels under Collingwood attacked our ship;
two, however, passed on and Churruca had only three to deal with.
"We held out bravely against these odds till two in the afternoon,
suffering terribly, however, though we dealt double havoc on the foe.
Our Admiral seemed to have infused his heroic spirit into the crew and
soldiers, and the ship was handled and the broadsides delivered with
terrible promptitude and accuracy. The new recruits had learnt their
lesson in courage in no more than a couple of hours' apprenticeship,
and our defence struck the English not merely with dismay but with
astonishment.
"They were in fact forced to get assistance and bring up no less than
six against one. The two ships that had at first sailed past now
returned, and the _Dreadnought_ came alongside of us, with not more
than half a pistol-shot between her and our stern. You may imagine the
fire of these six giants pouring balls and small shot into a vessel of
74 guns. But our ship seemed positively to grow bigger in proportion
to the desperate bravery of her defenders. They themselves seemed to
grow in strength as their courage mounted, and seeing the dismay we
created in an enemy six times as strong, we could have believed
ourselves something more than men.
"Churruca, meanwhile, who was the brain of us all, directed the action
with gloomy calmness. Knowing that only care and skill could supply
the place of strength he economized our fire, trusting entirely to
careful aim, and the consequence was that each ball did terrible havoc
on the foe. He saw to everything, settled everything, and the shot
flew round him and over his head without his ever once changing color
even. That frail and delicate man, whose beautiful and melancholy
features looked so little fitted to dare such scenes of terror,
inspired us all with unheard-of courage, simply by a glance of his
eye.
"However, it was not the will of God that he should escape alive from
that storm of fire. Seeing that no one could hit one of the enemy's
ships which was battering us with impunity, he went down himself to
judge of the line of fire and succeeded in dismasting her. He was
returning to the quarter-deck when a cannon ball hit his right leg
with such violence as almost to take it off, tearing it across the
thigh in the most frightful manner. We rushed to support him and our
hero sank into my arms. It was a fearful moment. I still fancy I can
feel his heart beating under my hand--a heart which, even at that
terrible moment, beat only for his country. He sank rapidly. I saw him
make an effort to raise his head, which had fallen forward on his
breast; I saw him try to force a smile while his face was as white as
death, and he said, in a voice that was scarcely weaker than usual:
'It is nothing--go on firing.'
"His spirit revolted against death and he did all he could to conceal
the terrible sufferings of his mutilated frame, while his heart beat
more feebly every instant. We wanted to carry him down into the
cabin, but nothing would persuade him to quit the quarter-deck. At
last he yielded to our entreaties and understood that he must give up
the command. He called for Moyna, his lieutenant, and was told that he
was dead; then he called for the officer in command of the first
battery, and the latter though himself seriously wounded at once
mounted the quarter-deck and assumed the command.
"But from that moment the men lost heart; from giants they shrank to
pigmies; their courage was worn out and it was plain that we must
surrender. The consternation that had possessed me from the instant
when our hero fell into my arms had not prevented my observing the
terrible effect that this disaster had produced in the minds of all. A
sudden paralysis of soul and body seemed to have fallen on the crew;
they all stood petrified and speechless and the grief of losing their
beloved leader quite overpowered the disgrace of surrender.
"Quite half of the men were dead or wounded; most of the guns were
past serving; all the masts except the main-mast were gone by the
board and the rudder could not be used. Even in this deplorable plight
we made an attempt to follow the _Príncipe de Astúrias_ which had
given the signal to retreat, but the _Nepomuceno_ was mortally
wounded and could not move nor steer. Even then, in spite of the
wrecked state of the ship, in spite of the dismayed condition of the
men, in spite of a concurrence of circumstances to render our case
hopeless, not one of the six English captains attempted to board us.
They respected our ship even when she was at their mercy.
"Churruca, in the midst of his agony, ordered that the flag should be
nailed to the mast, for the ship should never surrender so long as he
breathed. The delay alas! could be but brief, for Churruca was going
rapidly, and we who supported him only wondered that a body so mangled
could still breathe; it was his indomitable spirit that kept him alive
added to a resolute determination to live, for he felt it his first
duty. He never lost consciousness till the very end, nor complained of
his sufferings, nor seemed to dread his approaching death; his sole
care and anxiety was that the crew should not know how dangerous his
condition was, so that no one should fail in his duty. He desired that
the men should be thanked for their heroic bravery, spoke a few words
to his brother-in-law, Ruiz de Apodaca, and, after sending a message
to his young wife he fixed his thoughts on God, whose name we heard
frequently on his parched lips, and died with the calm resignation of
a just man and the fortitude of a hero; bereft of the satisfaction of
victory but with no angry sense of defeat. In him duty and dignity
were equally combined, and discipline was second only to religion. As
a soldier he was resolute, as a man he was resigned, and without a
murmur or an accusing word he died as nobly as he had lived. We looked
at his body, not yet cold, and it seemed all a delusion--he must
surely wake to give us our orders; and we wept with less fortitude
than he had shown in dying, for in him we had lost all the valor and
enthusiasm that had borne us up.
"Well, the ship struck; and when the officers from the six vessels
that had destroyed her came on board each claimed the honor of
receiving the sword of our dead hero. Each exclaimed: 'He surrendered
to me!'--and for a few minutes they eagerly disputed the victory, each
for the ship he represented. Then they asked the officer who had taken
the command to which of the Englishmen he had struck. 'To all,' he
replied. 'The _Nepomuceno_ would never have surrendered to one.'
"The English gazed with sincere emotion on the body of the hapless
Churruca, for the fame of his courage and genius was known to them
and one of them spoke to this effect: 'A man of such illustrious
qualities ought never to be exposed to the risks of battle; he should
be kept to live and serve the interests of science and navigation.'
Then they prepared for dropping him overboard, the English marines and
seamen forming a line of honor alongside of the Spaniards; they
behaved throughout like noble-minded and magnanimous gentlemen.
"The number of our wounded was very considerable, and they were
transferred on board other English or captured ships. It was my lot to
be sent to this one which has suffered worse than most; however, they
count more on getting her into Gibraltar than any other, now that they
have lost the _Trinidad_ which was the finest and most coveted of our
ships."
Thus ended Malespina's narrative which was attentively listened to as
being that of an eye-witness. From what I heard I understood that a
tragedy just as fearful as that I myself had seen had been enacted on
board every ship of the fleet. "Good God!" said I to myself, "what
infinite misery! and all brought about by the obstinacy of a single
man!" And child as I was, I remember thinking: "One man, however mad
he may be, can never commit such extravagant follies as whole nations
sometimes plunge into at the bidding of a hundred wise ones."