On the evening of the 14th of February, 1807, H.M. ship Ajax, 74 guns,
commanded by Captain the Hon. Sir Henry Blackwood, lay at anchor off
the mouth of the Dardanelles, in company with the squadron of
Vice-Admiral Sir John Duckworth. The wind, which during the day had
been boisterous, was partially lulled, and in the clear moonlight
every object was visible with a distinctness almost equal to that of
day.
The scene from the deck of the Ajax was one of surpassing beauty and
interest. The bright moonbeams rested on the waters, and left a
silvery track upon the waves. Ahead and astern, the lofty masts of the
squadron tapered darkly towards the sky, whilst the outline of every
rope and spar was sharply defined against the clear blue vault of
heaven. Every man in the ship, from the commander to the youngest boy,
could feel and understand this natural beauty; but there were many on
board the squadron who had still higher enjoyment, as they gazed on
those isles and shores which recalled the classic verse of Homer and
of Virgil. For them every island, cape, river, and mountain was
fraught with interest. There lay Tenedos, renowned of old; there the
mountain isle of Imbros stood out in bold relief from the snow-clad
summits of Samothracia. In the distance appeared Mount Ida, and at its
foot lay stretched the plains of Troy, o'er which the 'gulfy Simois'
wanders still as it did of old. There is Cape Sigæum, and on it the
tomb of Patroclus, round which Achilles dragged the godlike Hector's
corpse; there, too, the ashes of Achilles repose near those of his
friend; and a little further north, on the Rhoetian promontory, is the
tomb of 'mighty Ajax.' Homer, Euripides, and Virgil have, it is true,
a very small share in the studies of a youthful sailor, as they do not
form an essential ingredient of a nautical education; but an English
gentleman, although his head be crammed with mathematics and
equations, always contrives to pick up enough of classic lore to
enable him thoroughly to enjoy such a scene as that we have attempted
to describe. He is much to be pitied who cannot appreciate such
enjoyment; but in these days, when the schoolmaster is aboard, and
when, by the wise liberality of the Government, our ships are
furnished with useful and interesting books, none need of necessity be
deprived of the exquisite pleasure which is to be derived from
visiting scenes which have been 'dignified either by wisdom, bravery,
or virtue.' We are constantly reminded that 'knowledge is power;' but
it might be well to impress upon youngsters, that '_knowledge_ is
enjoyment.' There is, indeed, no acquirement in literature or science
that will not at some time or other be productive of real pleasure.
We have lingered on this subject longer than we should have done, for
we must now relate how soon the tranquillity of that fair scene was
disturbed--how for a time another light, redder and fiercer than that
of the moon, shone on the blue waters of the Hellespont.
Soon after nine o'clock P.M., Captain Blackwood had received from his
first lieutenant the report of the safety of the Ajax, and all, except
the officers and men who were on duty, had retired to their berths. A
very short time, however, had elapsed, before the stillness of the
night was broken by the appalling cry of 'Fire!' It must be a fearful
sound to hear--the cry of 'Fire!' as awful as the voice of him who
Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night,
And would have told him half his Troy was burned.
The officer of the watch instantly informed Captain Blackwood of the
alarm. He hastened upon deck, and found too surely that flames were
bursting from the after-part. He gave orders to beat to quarters--to
fire the guns as signals of distress, and directed Lieutenant Wood and
a midshipman to proceed in one of the boats to all the ships of the
squadron to request assistance.
These orders were promptly given, and promptly obeyed; but who can
enter fully into the feelings of Captain Blackwood at that awfully
critical moment. Here was his ship and six hundred men threatened with
immediate destruction, and each one of that six hundred looked to him
for direction and guidance.
In order to inspire others with courage and confidence, he must
display decision in every look and gesture. Whatever others might do,
his lip must not tremble, nor his eyelid quiver--no look of
apprehension must be seen on his brow. He must stand forth calm and
undaunted--the recollection of tender ties and loving hearts might
wring his soul with agony, but these thoughts must be banished; the
safety of six hundred human beings depended, under God, on his
firmness and exertion, and every eye was directed to him in anxious
inquiry. When the ship's company had turned out, every man took his
station calmly and in obedience to orders.
The captain, followed by several of his officers, went down to the
cockpit, from whence issued clouds of smoke. Every effort was made to
extinguish the flames in that part of the ship, but they increased so
rapidly, it soon became impossible for any one to remain below.
Several of the men who were throwing down water fell from suffocation
with the buckets in their hands. To give more air to the men so
employed, the lower-deck ports were hauled up; but this rather
increasing than diminishing the density of the smoke, they were closed
again, and the after-hatchway shut down. The carpenter's attempt to
scuttle the after-part of the ship was also ineffectual.
Ten or fifteen minutes only had elapsed after the first alarm had been
given, before the flames raged with such fury, that it was impossible
to hoist out the boats; the jolly-boat had fortunately been lowered in
obedience to the captain's orders when he first went upon deck. As the
flames burst up the main-hatchway, dividing the fore from the
after-part of the ship, the captain ordered all hands to the
forecastle, and seeing that it was utterly beyond human power to
prevent the destruction of the vessel, he desired every man to provide
for his own safety.
The silent plague through the green timber eats,
And vomits out a tardy flame by fits;
Down to the keels, and upwards to the sails,
The fire descends, or mounts, but still prevails;
Nor buckets pour'd, nor strength of human hand,
Can the victorious element withstand.
DRYDEN'S _Æneid, Book V_.
The luckless ship was now wrapped in flames from amidships to
taffrail, and the scene of horror is beyond the powers of description.
Hundreds of human beings were assembled together on the forecastle,
bowsprit, and sprit-sail-yard. No boat had yet come to their
assistance. Their perilous situation had levelled all distinction of
rank; men and officers were huddled together, watching with despairing
hearts the progress of the fiery element, which threatened to hurry
them so quickly into eternity. Volumes of black smoke rose in huge
pillars from all parts of the ship, whilst far above the hissing and
crackling of the flames, as they ricked the masts and rigging, rose
the shrieks and death yells of the hapless men, who, unable to gain
the forecastle, had sought safety aloft, where the flames had now
reached them.
Some, rather than endure the horrible suspense, trusted themselves to
the mercy of the waves, and by plunging overboard, ended their lives
and sufferings in a watery grave. Many, in their agony, fell on their
knees, imploring God for that help which they despaired of receiving
from mortal agency. Perhaps these men would not have thought of prayer
to heaven in face of a human foe, but now that the 'last enemy' glared
upon them in so fearful a shape, they felt compelled to fly to Him who
hath said, 'Call upon me in the day of trouble.'
The booming of the guns, as they exploded, echoed far and wide over
the waters, and added to the horrors of that awful night.
In the midst of his people stood the captain, endeavouring to sustain
their sinking spirits, and exhorting them to be firm and to depend
upon the boats which were now heaving in sight. He then bade them
farewell, and sprung into the sea; he breasted the waves for a length
of time, but his strength was nearly exhausted, when, happily, he was
seen, and picked up by one of the boats of the Canopus.
As the boats from the squadron neared the Ajax, the agonizing fears of
the sufferers were changed into wild transports of joy; so sudden was
the transition from despair to hope, that many of the crew lost all
self-possession, and perished by jumping into the sea in their
impatience to reach the boats.
Such details as these, showing the effects of fear upon untutored
minds, make us thankful that a great change for the better has been
effected within the last forty years with respect to the religious and
moral instruction of our sailors.
Every ship's company is exposed to casualties similar to that which
befel the crew of the Ajax,--to shipwreck, fire, and sudden
destruction,--and no man will deny that in times of extreme peril, a
calm and composed mind is the greatest of blessings--the want of it,
the greatest misery. Few will be sceptical enough to deny, on the
other hand, that the best security for such composure, in a moment of
unforeseen danger, or of unlooked-for deliverance, is a firm and sure
trust that there is a God above, who 'ruleth over all;' whom the winds
and the sea obey, and who is 'mighty to save,' even in the hour of
man's direst extremity. To instil this knowledge and trust into the
hearts of our seamen, and by it to make them both better men, and
better sailors, should be the chief object of every improvement in
education.
Lieut. Willoughby, of the St. George, had hastened in a cutter to
assist the crew of the Ajax, and he very soon rescued as many men as
his boat could carry. Numbers, however, were still surrounding him,
who, for the safety of those in the already overladen boat, were, with
much reluctance, left to their fate. Fortunately some launches and a
barge arrived in time to pick them up, and convey them to the
different ships of the squadron.
The Ajax all this time was drifting towards the island of Tenedos,
with her stern and broadside alternately presented to the wind. The
humane exertions of Lieutenant Willoughby had been twice crowned with
success; his boat was, for the third time, nearly filled with people,
when he observed the Ajax round to, and that several men were hanging
by ropes under her head. He resolved, at all hazards, to rescue these
poor fellows before she again fell off. Dashing, therefore, towards
her, he succeeded in the first part of his object, but not until the
vessel was again before the wind, flames issuing from every part of
both hull and rigging, and with the cutter across her hawse.
To extricate himself from this perilous situation was almost
impossible, for every moment increased the speed with which the Ajax
was surging through the water, and the sea thrown up from her bows
threatened his small boat with instant destruction.
We will now take up the account as given by Marshall, in his _Naval
Biograghy_:[10]
'Whilst the Ajax was propelling the cutter in the above alarming
manner, the flames reached the shank, painter, and stopper, of her
remaining bower anchor, and it fell from her bows, nearly effecting
the destruction of the boat at its first plunge into the water. The
cable caught her outer gunwale, over which it ran, apparently one
sheet of fire; orders, exertion, and presence of mind were now of no
avail. Death to all in the cutter appeared inevitable. The sole
alternative was either to be burned or drowned, for they were all too
much exhausted to be able to save themselves by swimming.
'The boats at a distance saw that the cutter was enveloped in flames,
and therefore considered it impossible to assist her. All that
Lieutenant Willoughby and his companions could do while the cable was
running out and binding their boat more firmly to the ship, was to
keep the sparks and flames as much as possible from the uncovered
parts of their persons. Providentially, however, although the inner
portion of the cable had been burnt through, the anchor took the
ground, and gave the ship's head a check to windward, before the less
consumed part had entirely left the tier; and thus the very event
which had seemed to seal the doom of the cutter was in all respects
ordained by the Almighty for her preservation. The change in the
ship's position enabled the boat to get clear, but not before every
individual in her was more or less severely scorched, and the heat was
no longer endurable.'
The wreck drifted on shore on the north side of the island of Tenedos,
where, at five o'clock in the morning, she blew up with an explosion
which might be felt on the adjacent shores of Europe and of Asia; and
all that remained of the Ajax were a few smoking spars, which rose to
the surface of the sea.
Such was the fate of this noble ship, destroyed by a conflagration
more rapid than had ever been known, and of which the cause has never
been clearly ascertained. It appears, however, certain that, contrary
to orders, there had been a light in the bread-room; for when the
first lieutenant broke open the door of the surgeon's cabin, the after
bulk-head was already burnt down; and as the purser's steward, his
assistant, and the cooper, were among the missing, it is but
reasonable to suppose that the fire had been occasioned by their
negligence.
'I trust,' says Captain Blackwood, in his defence before the court of
inquiry, 'that I shall be able to prove to the satisfaction of this
court, that I had instituted a regulation, which obliged the first
lieutenant, the warrant officers, and master at arms, in a body to
visit all the quarters, store-rooms, wings, &c, and report to me at
eight o'clock on their clearness and safety; and that I had also
received at nine o'clock the report of the marine officer of the
guard.' ... 'I trust this court will consider that in ordering the
first lieutenant and warrant officers to visit all parts of the ship,
whose report, as well as that of the master at arms, I had received at
a few minutes past eight o'clock, I had very fully provided for every
want, and might with perfect confidence have considered my ship in a
state of perfect safety with respect to fire.'
Captain Blackwood, his surviving officers and men, were all most
honourably acquitted of any blame respecting the loss of the Ajax.
Out of six hundred men, three hundred and fifty were saved by the
boats of the squadron; but two hundred and fifty perished that night
by fire or water.
Amongst the lost were Lieutenants Reeve and Sibthorpe; Captain Boyd,
Royal Marines; Mr. Owen, surgeon; Mr. Donaldson, master; twenty-five
midshipmen; two merchants of Constantinople, and a Greek pilot.
The melancholy fate of the gunner must not be passed over unnoticed.
This poor man had two sons on board, whom he was bringing up to his
own profession.
When the first alarm of fire was given, he had rushed below, and was
soon seen emerging from the smoke with one of the boys in his arms.
He threw the lad into the sea and the jolly-boat picked him up; but
on going down for the other, the unfortunate father fell a victim to
his paternal affection, and either perished in the flames, or was
suffocated.
Of three women who were on board, one saved herself by following her
husband down a rope from the jib-boom, and was received into a boat.
Captain Blackwood served as a volunteer in the subsequent operations
of the squadron in forcing the passage of the Dardanelles, and his
services then were most highly spoken of in a letter from Sir J.
Duckworth to Lord Collingwood. He had distinguished himself on many
previous occasions. He was in the memorable action of 1st of June,
1794; and he commanded the Euryalus at the battle of Trafalgar.
When Sir Henry Blackwood bade farewell to Nelson, on leaving the
Victory to repair on board his own ship, before the commencement of
the action, Lord Nelson said, with prophetic meaning, 'God bless you,
Blackwood; I shall never see you again.'
In 1810, he commanded the inshore squadron off Toulon, and for his
gallant conduct on that station he received the thanks of the
commander-in-chief, Sir Charles Cotton.
In 1814, Captain Blackwood was advanced to the rank of rear-admiral,
and in 1819 he was appointed commander-in-chief in the East Indies.
He died a vice-admiral in 1832, and his name is enrolled among the
first class of naval heroes who have fought under the British flag.
The memory of Blackwood is still held in veneration by the old
weather-beaten tars of the Nelsonian school.
Lieutenant Willoughby, whom we have seen displaying so much gallantry
in his efforts to save the crew of the Ajax, entered the service in
the year 1790.
Before big promotion to the rank of lieutenant, in the year 1798, he
distinguished himself on more than one occasion by that promptitude of
action for which his after career was so remarkable.
In 1801, he served on board the Russel, at the battle of Copenhagen.
The gallant manner in which he boarded the Provestein block ship,
excited so much admiration, that the Russel's crew gave him three
cheers upon his return to the ship. We next find this young officer
performing a most important service when the French forces capitulated
at Cape François, St. Domingo, in 1803.
He was at this period serving on board the Hercule, flag-ship to Sir
John Duckworth. According to the terms agreed upon, the French
men-of-war were to keep their colours hoisted until they got outside
of the harbour, when they were each to discharge a broadside in return
to a shot fired athwart their bows, by one of the British ships, and
then to make the usual signals of submission.
The Clorinde frigate, in going out of the harbour, grounded under Fort
St. Joseph, at the moment when the launch of the Hercule, commanded by
Mr. Willoughby, was entering the harbour. When Mr. Willoughby saw the
critical position of the Clorinde, and the danger which menaced all on
board of her (for he knew that even if they succeeded in gaining the
shore, which was doubtful, no quarter would be given them by the
blacks), he pulled towards the frigate, and when he came alongside, he
proposed terms to General La Poyne (who was on board of her) by which
the safety of the crew would be secured.
Mr. Willoughby promised, that if the frigate would hoist English
colours, he (Mr. Willoughby) would wait upon General Dessalines, and
demand that the British flag should be respected; and in the event of
the Clorinde going to pieces during the night, the crew and passengers
should be considered prisoners of war.
General La Poyne readily accepted the proposed terms, and
accordingly, Mr. Willoughby proceeded to negotiate with General
Dessalines, who promised compliance with his request.
The boats of the Hercule were sent to the assistance of the Clorinde,
and they succeeded in heaving her off.
Thus by the timely exertions of this zealous young officer, some
hundreds of lives were saved, and the British navy obtained a frigate
which, for many years, was one of the finest of the 38-gun class.
At the attack on Curaçoa, in 1804, Mr. James relates, that for the
sake of encouraging his men, Mr. Willoughby used to take his meals
sitting in a chair upon the breast-work of a battery, while the earth
was ploughed up all around; and one man, we believe, was killed on the
spot; but still the table and chair, and the daring officer who sat
there, remained untouched.
In the following year, the Hercule had captured a merchant schooner,
and one of the prisoners gave notice that a Spanish corvette of twenty
guns, was lying in St. Martha, South America. Mr. Willoughby thereupon
volunteered to attack her; and on the 4th of July, he took the command
of the prize, and parted company with his ship, accompanied by three
midshipmen and thirty volunteers. On the 6th, they entered the harbour
of St. Martha; Captain Samuel Roberts, then a midshipman, was at the
helm, with a check shirt on, his head covered with a French kerchief,
and his face blackened. The rest of the men were below, except a
black, and a mulatto.
The schooner being well known, the deception was perfectly successful,
and she passed the batteries without interruption; but, to the
disappointment of all on board, no corvette was to be found.
Mortified in the extreme, they put about, but not in time to escape
detection. The enemy had found out the trick that had been played upon
them; and the batteries from the island and harbour opened upon the
schooner a volley of no very gentle reproaches. However, she luckily
avoided the danger, and returned in safety to the Hercule, without
receiving a single shot.
In 1807, Mr. Willoughby was appointed to the Royal George. We have
already alluded to his humane exertions to save the crew of the Ajax,
while the squadron was off the Dardanelles. He soon afterwards
received a severe wound whilst he was taking more thought for others'
safety than for his own. Upon the return of the squadron from
Constantinople, an attack was made upon a large building on the island
of Prota.
Lieutenant Willoughby perceiving that three men were very much exposed
to the enemy's fire, called out to them, desiring them to stoop. At
that moment, he was himself struck by two pistol balls; one entered
his head, just above the right jaw, and took a slanting direction
upwards--and has never been extracted; the other shot cut his left
cheek in two; For some minutes he lay apparently lifeless, but
fortunately the movement of an arm indicated enough of life to awaken
hope in his companions; and they carried him on board the Royal
George.
In 1808, he was promoted to the rank of commander, and appointed to
the Otter sloop, then employed in cruizing off the Isle of France.
Here he distinguished himself in cutting out some vessels under the
protection of the batteries of the Black River; and for his services
at the capture of St. Paul, he was appointed to the Xereide.
In 1810, he made an attack upon Jacotel: he thought this a somewhat
dangerous enterprise; and, therefore, to inspire his men with more
than usual courage and ardour, he headed them himself, in full
uniform. After a desperate resistance on the part of the enemy, he
succeeded in spiking the guns of the fort, and taking prisoner the
commanding officer. For this service he was promoted to the rank of
captain.
In the course of the same year, 1810, a musket burst in the hands of
one of the men, so near to the place where Captain Willoughby stood,
that his jaw was fractured, and the windpipe laid bare, so that his
life was despaired of.
He had hardly recovered from this wound, before he was engaged in an
attack upon Port Louis, Isle de France. The disasters which befel the
squadron upon this occasion have now become a matter of history, and
they need not be recounted here,--suffice it to say, that Captain
Willoughby continued to keep up an unequal conflict until nearly all
on board the Nereide were either killed or wounded. Nor did he
surrender, although he had entirely lost one of his eyes, and the
other was much injured, 'until (to use the words of Vice-Admiral
Bertie) after a glorious resistance, almost unparalleled even in the
brilliant annals of the British navy,'
Upon his return to England, Captain Willoughby had a pension of
550_l._ per annum awarded to him in consideration of his wounds.
Having no immediate prospect of employment at home, he repaired to St.
Petersburg, and offered his services to the Czar.
In his very first engagement in his new career, Captain Willoughby was
taken prisoner by the French.--falling a victim to his own generosity.
During the action, he saw two Prussian soldiers severely
wounded,--dismounting himself, and desiring his servant to do the
same, he placed the wounded men upon his own horses, and attended them
on foot. They were quickly overtaken by some French cavalry, and
Captain Willoughby was made prisoner. He was soon afterwards informed
that if he would sign a paper, pledging himself to hasten to France by
a certain route, he would be allowed to travel alone.
He gladly consented to this; but to his astonishment, after signing
the required paper, he was ordered to march with the other prisoners.
In vain he protested against this breach of faith--he was obliged to
proceed. His sufferings from cold and hunger whilst crossing the
deserts of Russia and Poland were intense. After witnessing the
heartrending scenes of Moscow, he at length reached Mayence. Thence he
was removed to Metz, and he had scarcely reached the town, before an
order came for his confinement in the Chateau of Bouillon, where he
remained a close prisoner for nine months. He was then taken to
Peronne, and there he continued until the arrival of the Allies at
Chalons, when he contrived to make his escape.
Soon after his arrival in England, Captain Willoughby received the
Order of the Bath,--an honour scarcely commensurate with the many and
valuable services he had performed for his country. It may safely be
asserted that no officer living has been engaged in so many
hard-fought actions, or has received so many dangerous wounds. From
his first entrance into the service, to the end of the late war, all
his energies were devoted to the service of his country; and now that
his services are no longer required, with a constitution shattered by
age and wounds, he is employing the remainder of his days in deeds of
charity and kindness towards his fellow-creatures.
Captain Willoughby became admiral in 1847, and since the foregoing
pages were written, death has closed his eventful life.