"You have heard speak of the `Agamemnon' of 64 guns. I was one of the
old Agamemnons, as we called ourselves. We, all her crew, were proud of
her, and good reason we had to be so. Captain Nelson commissioned her
on the 26th of January, 1793, and it wasn't many days after this that I
joined her. You see I kept my eye on him. When a man has found a good
captain, if he's wise he will follow him whenever he can.
"I can't now remember all the places we went to. First, we were one of
the Channel fleet. Then we were sent out to the Mediterranean, where
our captain astonished the admirals, and made the soldier-generals
almost tear their eyes out by the way he did things. He took care that
the weeds should not grow to the bottom of the ship he commanded. First
we had to conquer the island of Corsica [Note 1]. We drove the French
out of every place but the strong fort of Bastia, so we landed, and
hauled our guns up the heights, and kept up such a hot fire on the place
that it gave up, and then the soldiers marched in and gained the glory.
Then we took a place called Calvi. Here it was that a shot, striking
the ground, threw up some sand in the captain's eye, and though we
thought but little of it at the time, he never saw again with that eye.
It was very hard work, and the country was unhealthy, and many of us
grew sick, so that we were heartily glad when it was over. There was
something better in store for us too. News was brought us that the
French fleet, nearly twice as strong as ours, was on the look-out for
us. Our fleet was under the command of Admiral Hotham. You may be sure
that we kept a bright look-out for the enemy. At last they hove in
sight, and one of our frigates, the `Inconstant,' got so close that she
brought to action the `Ca Ira,' a French eighty-four, which had carried
away her main and foretop masts. The `Inconstant,' however, was obliged
to bear away, and a French frigate came up and took the line-of-battle
ship in tow, while two other line-of-battle ships guarded her on her
weather bow.
"Our captain had been watching all that took place, and, though we had
no line-of-battle ship to support us, we made all sail in chase. There
was not a man on board whose heart didn't beat high with pride at the
way we went into action against odds so great; but we Agamemnons knew
well enough what our captain could do and would do. As soon as the
enemy could bring their guns to bear, they kept firing away their
stern-chasers at us. We stood on, without answering a shot, till we
were within a hundred yards of them. `Starboard the helm!' cried the
captain. The after-sails were brailed up, and the ship falling off, our
broadside was brought to bear on the retreating enemy. Now we opened a
tremendous fire on them, every gun telling. Then the helm was put
a-port, the after-yards braced up, and again we were after them.
"Again and again we practised the same manoeuvre, never allowing the `Ca
Ira' to get a shot at us with one of her broadside guns. The enemy,
however, were not idle with their after-guns, though it was not till we
had torn her sails almost to ribbons that the French frigates began to
open their fire upon us. Then down came more of the enemy's ships
towards us. The captain seemed only the better pleased at seeing this,
and it's my opinion he would have hove to to meet them, and still
managed to come off victorious by some means or other, even if the
admiral had not made the signal of recall. Though our sails and rigging
were much cut up, we had only seven men wounded, while the `Ca Ira' lost
one hundred and ten that day.
"The next day we were again at it, for we managed to cut off the `Ca
Ira,' and the `Censeur,' which had her in tow. This time we got one on
each side of us, and both of them fought well; but we fought better, and
at length both struck, and our boats were sent on board to take
possession. I never before had witnessed such a scene as that I saw on
board the `Ca Ira.' On her decks lay three hundred brave fellows, dead
or dying, or badly wounded, besides those she had lost the day before,
while the `Censeur' had lost three hundred and fifty. Our captain
wanted to follow up the enemy, and it's my belief, if we had, we should
have taken every one of them; but the admiral would not let him, and
said we had done very well as it was. So we had; but, you see, our
captain was the man who always wanted to do something better than well.
_Do well_ sits on the main-top--_Do better_ climbs to the truck.
"The `Agamemnon' had been so knocked about, that the captain now shifted
his flag into the `Minerva' frigate, and took me and many other men with
him. One of our first duties was to carry off the English garrison and
privateers and merchantmen from Corsica, which had declared for the
French. We soon afterwards fought several actions with the enemy, and
then war broke out between England and Spain, and we had a narrow escape
from an overwhelming force of Spanish ships. We had just sailed from
Gibraltar, when two Spanish line-of-battle ships followed us. We were
keeping pretty well ahead when a man fell overboard. To let a man drown
without trying to help him was against our captain's nature. A
jolly-boat, commanded by Lieutenant Hardy, was lowered, and away she
pulled to try and pick up the poor fellow. The boat was within range of
the enemy's guns: the man was not to be seen. The captain had been
anxiously watching all that took place. `I'll not lose Hardy,' he
exclaimed. `Back the main-topsail!' No order was ever obeyed more
readily, and soon we were dropping back towards our boat, and towards
the enemy. We fully expected to be brought to action, but we did not
care for that; we got back Mr Hardy and our boat, when what was our
astonishment to see the headmost Spaniard shorten sail to wait for his
consort. There can be no doubt he thought we had assistance not far
off. The Spaniards were very timid of us in those days--they had good
reason to be so. With flying colours we sailed out of the Straits,
laughing at our enemy.
"Both officers and men were constantly being shifted from ship to ship
in those days; and, as soon as we reached Cadiz we found ourselves
transferred to the `Captain,' a fine seventy-four. Captain Nelson
hoisted his pennant, as commodore, on board of her, with Captain Miller
under him. You have heard speak of the battle of Saint Vincent. Sir
John Jervis, who was made Earl Saint Vincent, was our admiral, and
Commodore Nelson was second in command. He was now going to show all
the world what he really was. The Spaniards had twice as many ships as
we had. They were much bigger, and carried heavier guns; but what did
Nelson or we care for that. It is the men who fight the battles, and
Nelson knew the stuff British seamen are made of.
"Early in the morning of the 14th of February, the Spanish fleet hove in
sight, and we bore down on them. They were in line, that is, one
following the other. We managed to break that line, and cut off one
part from the other, just as you cut a snake in two. We followed the
head, the biggest part. That part bore away before the wind to join the
tail. The `Captain' was instantly wore round, instead of tacking,
according to a signal just then made by the admiral, and away, after
them we went, followed by the `Culloden,' `Blenheim,' and `Diadem.' The
`Captain' was in the rear of the British line; but by the manoeuvre just
performed, we came up with the Spaniards, and in a short time we and the
`Blenheim' were tooth and nail with no less than seven Spanish
line-of-battle ships--one, the `Santissima Trinidade,' of 130 guns, and
the `San Josef' and `Salvador del Mundo' of 112, the others being of 80
and 74 guns. For nearly an hour we pounded away at them, till Captain
Collingwood, in the `Excellent,' came up, and gave us a helping hand by
pouring a tremendous broadside into the `San Nicolas.'
"Our captain now let us fall close alongside that ship, and then he
called for boarders, and away we dashed into her. Right through her we
went; her flag was hauled down, and then, more boarders coming up, on we
dashed aboard the big `San Joseph,' and in a little time we had her
also. We followed our captain to the quarterdeck, and then the Spanish
officers assembled, and their captain and all of them presented their
swords to Commodore Nelson. As he received them he gave them to one of
his bargemen, William Fearney, who, with no little pleasure, tucked them
under his arm, just as you see in the picture in the Painted Hall
yonder. All the seven ships were taken, and if the Spaniards had had
any pluck we should have taken the remainder; but they hadn't, and made
off while we were unable to follow. That is the worst of fighting with
cowards. If they had been brave men they would have stopped to fight,
and we should have captured every one of their ships. That was the
battle of Saint Vincent.
"The commodore was made an admiral and a knight, and now everybody in
England, high and low, rich and poor, had heard of him, and sung his
praises.
"You've seen a picture of Sir Horatio Nelson, as he was then, in a boat
attacked by Spaniards, and his coxswain, John Sykes, defending him, and
receiving on his own head the blow made at him by one of the enemy.
I'll tell you how it was:--
"His flag was flying on board the `Theseus,' and he had command of the
inner squadron blockading Cadiz. The Spanish gunboats had annoyed us,
and he resolved to attack them with the boats at night. In we pulled.
In the admiral's barge there were only his ten bargemen--I was one of
them--Captain Freemantle, and his coxswain, John Sykes, when suddenly we
found ourselves close up with a Spanish launch carrying twenty-six men
or more. To run was not in our nature, so we tackled to with the
launch. It was desperate work, and the Spaniards fought well. Sir
Horatio was foremost in the fight; but the enemy seemed to know who he
was, and aimed many a blow at his head. Sykes, not thinking of himself,
defended him as a bear does her whelps. Blow after blow he warded off,
till at last his own arm was disabled. Still, instead of getting over
to the other side of the boat, he stood by the admiral. Down came
another Spaniard's sword which Sir Horatio could not ward off, but Sykes
sprung forward and received the blow on his own head, which it laid
open. This did not make us less determined to beat the enemy. One
after the other we cut them down till we killed eighteen, wounded the
rest, and towed their launch off in triumph. It will just show you how
the men who served with him loved the admiral. That was a desperate
fight in a small way, let me tell you; but before long we had still
worse work to go through.
"Many men are thought a great deal of if they gain one victory. Nelson
never but once suffered a defeat. It was at the island of Teneriffe.
He was sent there, by Sir John Jervis, with a squadron to cut out a rich
Manilla ship returning to Spain, which lay in the harbour of Santa Cruz.
Our squadron consisted of four ships of the line, three frigates, and
the `Fox' cutter. Our first attempt at landing failed, and then the
admiral, who never would be beaten, against the orders of Sir John
himself, determined to take command of the expedition on shore.
Midnight was the time chosen for the attack. The orders were, that all
the boats should land at a big mole which runs out from the town. Away
we pulled; the night was very dark, the boats got separated, and when we
reached the mole there were only four or five boats there. A heavy fire
was at once opened on us, but the admiral would not be turned back.
Drawing his sword, he was springing on shore, but the same moment he was
struck by a musket ball, and fell back into the arms of his step-son,
Lieutenant Nisbet. The lieutenant and one of our men bound up his arm,
while all those who could be collected jumped into the boat to shove her
off. It was difficult work, for she had grounded. We pulled close
under the battery to avoid the heavy fire from it. As we moved on, all
we could see was the bright flashes from the guns extending in a long
line in front of us. On again pulling out, a fearful cry was raised.
It came from the `Fox' cutter. A shot had struck her between wind and
water, and down she went, leaving her crew struggling in the waves. The
admiral had just before been lifted up in the stern-sheets by Mr Nisbet
to look about him.
"`Give way, lads--give way,' he shouted, forgetting his own desperate
wound. `We must save them.'
"Soon we were in among the struggling men, and hauling them into the
boats as fast as we could, the shot all the time rattling about us. The
admiral seemed to have recovered his strength, and worked away with his
left arm, assisting in saving a great many. Eighty men were saved, but
more than half the crew were lost. The first ship we came to was the
`Seahorse.' Her captain's wife, Mrs Freemantle, was on board, but he
was with the boats, and no one could tell whether he was alive or dead.
"`No, no,' exclaimed the admiral; `I can give the poor lady no tidings
of her husband; she shall not see me in this state. Pull to another
ship.'
"We managed to reach the `Theseus.' When a rope was lowered, he sprung
up the side, and would have no help. We could scarcely believe our
eyes, for we thought he was half dead. His was a wonderful spirit.
Then he sent us off to try and save a few more of the poor fellows from
the `Fox.' When we got back we found that he had made the surgeon at
once cut off his arm. We brought him the news that Captain Freemantle,
though badly wounded, had got off in safety to his ship. You may be
sure that both he and all of us were very anxious to know what was going
forward on shore. At length we heard that Captain Troubridge had
managed to collect two or three hundred men--all who were not drowned or
killed by shot--and having marched into the square, had taken the town.
Of course, he could do nothing against the citadel. Some eight thousand
Spanish troops were collecting about the place, but he was not a man to
be daunted; telling them that he would burn the town if they molested
him, he was able to draw off all his men in safety. During that
business we lost two hundred and fifty men and officers. It was a sad
affair, but though it was a failure every man engaged in it did his duty
bravely, and no one could blame the admiral for what had happened. We
heard that the Spaniards treated our wounded men who were left on shore
with the greatest kindness and care. No one among the wounded suffered
more than the admiral, and it was some months, I've heard say, before
the pain left his arm.
"Once more we returned to old England, and the admiral went up to London
to try and get cured of his wound. Since he left home he had lost an
eye and an arm, and had been terribly knocked about besides; but people
thought of what he had done, not of how he looked, and he was received
with honour wherever he went.
"I and a few others of his old hands lived on shore, keeping a look-out
for when he should get another command. We were afraid of being
pressed, and made to serve somewhere away from him. One and all of us
were ready enough to fight for our king and our country, provided we
could fight under him. We had not long to wait. We soon got news that
the `Vanguard' was to be commissioned to carry Sir Horatio Nelson's flag
to join the Mediterranean fleet under Earl Saint Vincent. That was in
the year 1798.
"We sailed from Gibraltar on the 9th of May with three line-of-battle
ships, four frigates, and a sloop of war, to look after the French
fleet, which consisted of thirteen ships of the line, seven frigates,
twenty-four smaller ships of war, and a fleet of transports, bound, as
we afterwards learned, for Egypt. If the French had conquered that
country, they would have gone on, there is no doubt of it, to attack our
possessions in India. The admiral, I dare say, knew the importance of
stopping that French fleet. In spite of their numbers we did not fear
them. Proud we were of our ship, and prouder still was our admiral of
her and her crew and the fleet he commanded. While we were in the Gulf
of Lyons, after it had been blowing hard all day, it came on one dark
night to blow harder still, and, without warning, first our main and
then our mizen-topmast went over the side, and lastly the foremast went
altogether, so that we no longer could carry sail on it. What a
crippled wreck we looked in the morning! There was a thick fog: not one
of the squadron could be seen. We were boasting the day before that we
were ready to meet more than an equal number of the finest ships the
French could bring against us; and now we lay docked of our wings, and
scarcely able to contend with the smallest frigate. Providence was
watching over us, and we had good reason to believe this when some time
afterwards we learned that that very day the French fleet sailed from
Toulon, and passed within a few miles of us, while we were hid from them
by the fog. At last Captain Ball, in the `Alexander,' came up, and
towed us into the harbour of San Pietro in Sardinia, where in four days,
with the aid of his and other two ships' companies, we got completely
refitted and ready for sea. Away we went in search of the French fleet,
with General Bonaparte himself on board. We heard of the French at
Gozo, and our admiral would have attacked them there, but they had gone;
then on we railed for Egypt, hoping to find them off Alexandria, but not
a sign of them could we discover. If we had had our frigates, we should
have found them out fast enough. Leaving Alexandria, we steered for
Syracuse, where we provisioned and watered; we visited the Morea; we
hunted along the Greek coast. At last we entered the Gulf of Coron,
where Captain Troubridge brought us the news that the French fleet had
been seen steering from Candia for Egypt four weeks before. Instantly
all sail was made for Alexandria. Still we scarcely expected to find
the French fleet there. Great then was our joy when the signal was seen
flying from the masthead of the `Zealous,' Captain Hood, that the
enemy's fleet were moored in Aboukir Bay. Not a moment was lost in
clearing the ships for action. We all knew that we had hot work before
us. We found the French fleet moored in a sort of curve in the bay, but
far enough from the shore to let some of our ships get inside of them;
that is, between them and the land. This the French little expected,
and many hadn't even their guns loaded on that side.
"Oh! it was a magnificent sight, as on we sailed, receiving a hot fire
from the shore batteries, but not answering a shot, while silently we
furled our sails, and got ready for anchoring. I believe that silence
made the hearts of the Frenchmen quake more than our loudest hurrahs
would have done. It was evening; the sun was just sinking into the
ocean as we entered the bay. The `Goliath' led the way, followed by the
`Zealous,' and then came the `Orion,' all anchoring inside the enemy's
line. The `Vanguard' (our ship) was the first which anchored outside,
within half pistol-shot of the `Spartiate.' We had six colours flying,
just us a sign to the Frenchmen that come what might we were not likely
to strike to them; and now there was very little to be seen but the
flashes and thick smoke from the guns. Other ships followed us outside
the French line, but the greater number were inside. No sooner were our
anchors dropped than we opened fire, our example being followed by the
other ships as they brought up. We blazed away in right earnest; there
was no flinching from our guns. What the Frenchmen were about I cannot
tell, but we seemed to fire two shots to their one; but then their guns
carried heavier metal than ours, and they had many more of them. It was
so dark that we had to get our fighting-lanterns hung up along the
decks. Just fancy us then stripped to the waist, with handkerchiefs
bound round our heads, and straining every nerve as we ran in and out,
and cleaned and loaded our heavy guns, and blazed away as fast as we
could. We were covered, too, with smoke and powder, and before long
most of us were sprinkled pretty thickly with our own or our shipmates'
blood. Such was the sight you would have seen between decks on board
every ship in the action.
"I must tell you what happened in other parts. There was a shoal we had
to pass on our starboard hand. The `Culloden,' the ship of the brave
Captain Troubridge, struck on it when standing in, for by that time the
darkness of night had come on. He instantly made signals which
prevented the other ships, the `Alexander,' `Swiftsure,' and `Leander,'
following, and getting on shore. They did their best to help off the
`Culloden,' but could not get her off, so stood on into the battle.
Before even they opened their fire, five of the enemy's ships had
struck. On standing on, Captain Hollowell fell in with the old
`Billyruffian' (`Bellerophon'), with already two hundred dead and
wounded, and almost a wreck from the tremendous fire of `L'Orient' of
120 guns. The `Swiftsure' took her place, and soon made the Frenchman
pay dear for what she had done. I heard of this afterwards. A seaman
at his gun can know little more of an action than what he sees before
his nose, and that is chiefly smoke and fire, and part of the hull and
rigging of one ship, and men struck down, and timbers and splinters
flying about, and yards and blocks rattling down, while he hears alone
the roar of the guns, the shouts, and shrieks, and groans of those
around him. This sort of terrible work was going on for some time, when
the word got about that the admiral himself was desperately wounded in
the head. It made our hearts sink within us with sorrow, but it did not
cause us to fight less fiercely, or be less determined to gain the
victory. How anxiously we waited to hear what the surgeons would say
about the wound of our noble chief! and when we were told that it was
merely the skin of his head which was hurt, and which had almost blinded
him, how hearty the cheer we gave. It must have astonished the
Frenchmen, who could not tell the cause. Then at it again we went
blazing away like fury, the round-shot and chain-shot and bullets
whizzing and tearing along our decks, making the white splinters fly,
and sending many a poor fellow out of the world, when suddenly the
darkness, which had till now surrounded us, was lighted up by the bright
flames which darted out of every port and twisted round the masts of a
burning ship. We soon learned that she was a French ship, the big
`L'Orient,' with which the `Billyruffian' had been engaged. Never did I
see such a sight; in a few minutes she was just one mass of flame, from
her truck to the water's edge. Her miserable crew, from one end of her
to the other, were leaping into the water to avoid the scorching heat.
`Out boats!' was the order, and each of our ships near at hand sent as
many boats as could be manned to the rescue of our unfortunate enemies.
Had they been our own shipmates, we could not have exerted ourselves
more. Still the battle raged from one end of the line to the other.
Suddenly there was a sound as if the earth were rent asunder. In one
pointed mass of flame up went the tall masts, and spars, and the decks
of the huge `L'Orient.' They seemed, in one body of fire, to rise above
our mastheads, and then down they came, spreading far and wide, hissing
into the water among the boats and the hundreds of poor wretches
struggling for their lives. Among them was the French commodore.
Captain Casabianca, I heard, was his name. He was a brave man. He had
his son with him, a little fellow only ten years old, as gallant, those
we rescued told us, as his father. They were blown up together. We saw
the two, the father holding on his son clinging to a spar. We pulled
towards them, but just then a bit of the burning wreck must have struck
them and carried them down, for when we got up to the spot they were
nowhere to be seen. That's the worst of a battle; there are so many
young boys on board who often get as cruelly hurt as the men, and
haven't the strength to bear up against their sufferings. Well, as I
was saying, we pulled about, picking up the half-burnt struggling
wretches wherever we could find them among the bits of floating wreck.
Only seventy were saved out of many more than a thousand men on board.
That was about ten o'clock. For some time not a shot was fired. Every
man felt that something awful had happened, but still many of the
Frenchmen hadn't given in. So at it again we went, and blazed away at
each other till three in the morning. When daylight returned, only two
of the enemy's ships of the line had their colours flying, and they had
not been engaged. They, with two frigates, cut their cables in the
forenoon, and stood out to sea, we having no ships in a fit state to
follow them. There were thirteen French line-of-battle ships when the
action began; we took nine, two were burned, and two escaped; and of the
four frigates one was sunk and another burned; while the enemy lost
three thousand one hundred and five men in killed and wounded. Captain
Westcott was the only captain killed, but we lost in all nearly nine
hundred other officers and men. As soon as the battle was over, an
order was issued that all on board every ship should return thanks to
Almighty God, who had given us the victory. Many a hearty thanksgiving
was offered up that day. It was a solemn ceremony; not a word was
spoken fore and aft till the chaplain began the prayers. A dead silence
reigned throughout the fleet. The Egyptians and Arabs on shore could
not make it out, I've heard say; and even the French officers, prisoners
on board, infidels as they were, listened with respect, and could not
help believing that there must be a God who had given us the victory.
Hard work we had to get our ships and prizes fit for sea again after the
battering they had got; as it was, we had to burn four of our prizes, as
it would have taken too long to refit them; and then at last away we
sailed with the larger part of the fleet for Naples.
"The battle I've been telling you about was called the battle of the
Nile. It was, I've heard say, one of the most glorious and important
ever fought on the sea."