she cried, the tears, which nothing could now hold back, coming thick
and fast; "I will pray for you always--always, that the God of battles
may spare you to me!"
At length I managed to tear myself away, leaving her to find
consolation from Him who dries all tears with His infinite pity
and compassion, and gives even to weak women and little children a
strength that many an erring man envies.
I reached the _Quickmatch_ the same night, and found instructions to
join up with the great fleet which was already assembling at Spithead.
The next morning we weighed anchor in the presence of the greatest
crowd of people it has ever been my lot to witness. Southsea beach was
one compact mass of men, women, and children, anxious to get a last
glimpse of the near and dear ones who were so soon to do battle for
their native land.
Slowly we moved off, and though we were far from the shore, on the
outside right of the fleet, we could hear the hoarse cries which broke
wildly from the vast concourse watching us steam away--from home and
friends, from love and life, from all that man holds dear, to death
and an unknown resting-place.
Two days later saw us across the Bay of Biscay, in compliance with the
sealed instructions which the Admiral had opened as soon as we were
out of sight of land. The Channel Squadron, with Gibraltar as its
temporary headquarters, was to keep open the line of communication
from the Atlantic to the Mediterranean. This, with the information
that France and Russia were actively operating against us, was all we
knew.
The _Blenheim_ had been sent on ahead as one of our scouts, and she
had signalled nothing of consequence till we had arrived off Cape St.
Vincent. Then, however, she sent us some sufficiently startling news
by her mast-head semaphore. She reported that a strong French fleet
lay stretched right across the entrance to the Straits of Gibraltar.
Immediately all was excitement aboard. Evidently we should have to
force our passage through them, and everyone was keenly awaiting the
signal to get into "line of battle." But the signal did not come.
A heavy white fog came stealing across the face of the waters, and
in a very few moments had swallowed up sea and sky and ships in its
devouring obscurity.
Then came a signal to stop engines, and soon the entire fleet had
stopped and were lying almost as if at anchor.
Besides myself, the officers of the _Quickmatch_ consisted of a
lieutenant, Taylor, who acted as my first lieutenant and performed the
navigating duties; a sub-lieutenant, Hastings, fresh from college;
an engineer officer; and a gunner, a fine specimen of a self-educated
bluejacket who resolutely sets himself to climb the ladder of
promotion from the lower deck.
We were standing together on the quarter-deck discussing the
probability of the fog lifting, when I was surprised by a signal from
Admiral Beaufoy, ordering me to repair aboard the flag-ship.
I lost no time in obeying his summons, and in a few minutes was
standing in his cabin.
The Admiral, who was pacing to and fro when I entered, stopped and
curiously regarded me for a few embarrassing seconds.
"Ralph," he said at length, "I have decided to entrust you with a
difficult and dangerous mission."
I bowed in silence, wondering to what this was to lead. Evidently
it was something serious, and success would mean promotion, and
promotion--marriage! And at that thought my lovelorn mind went back
to the picture of Bertha seated under the old elm tree, a picture so
sweet that for an instant I entirely forgot the business on hand.
I was recalled from my day-dreams by the cold, calm voice of the
Admiral. "The position," he was saying, "as you are aware, is this:--
"There is a powerful French fleet between us and Gibraltar. I intend
to fight that fleet"--his eyes sparkled, and he involuntarily clenched
his fists--"and drive it into the Mediterranean.
"Now, I have very important despatches from home for the Governor of
Gibraltar, which _must_ be delivered not later than to-morrow. I had
intended to deliver them myself, not being aware of the presence of
the blockading fleet. Then, when I heard of their position, I had
determined to attack at dawn, and thus the despatches would still have
been in time. But now, since I cannot attack till the fog lifts"--he
made a gesture of impatience--"and that may be days, the only thing
left for me to do is to run past the French, and so deliver the
despatches to the Governor."
I was all attention, and followed the Admiral intently as he went on,
now somewhat more quickly.
"The _Quickmatch_, Ralph, is in every way suited for such a purpose,
and I intend you to take her through. Now, please, listen carefully
to the suggestions I am about to make you. Will you take a glass of
wine?"
I was so elated at the prospect of distinction thus offered to me that
I hardly know how I answered.
The Admiral continued: "If you start shortly, you will be in the mouth
of the Straits of Gibraltar about sunset, and you can creep along
under the lee of the African coast with a very fair chance of success.
You will thus arrive at Gibraltar during the night, and go at once to
the Governor and deliver your despatches. You will then await further
orders. Of course, in the event of failure----"
Here I leapt up and interrupted him. "Failure, sir! I shall not think
of it! I'll get past those Frenchmen, and deliver my despatches,
though the whole French navy were after me. Failure, sir! Not if the
_Quickmatch_ and every soul aboard of her goes to the bottom! No, not
even then!"
The Admiral smiled at my warmth. Of course, he did not know that my
life-long happiness--Bertha, to wit--depended on my getting through
with those despatches.
He poured out a glass of champagne, and said, "Don't be too sanguine,
Ralph. It's no easy matter, you know, to dodge past such a fleet; but
I've great confidence in you, and somehow I think you'll do it. Come,
let's drink to your success!"
And, standing, we drained our glasses.
The undertaking was certainly rather a big order, and in my most
extravagant dreams of distinction I had not ventured to hope of such
a thing. What a glorious chance of distinguishing myself! Most of the
men I knew would give their ears for such an opportunity, and here it
was within my grasp at the very outset of the war.
The Admiral was a man of few words. Going to a curious little Indian
safe which stood in a corner of the cabin, he took from it the
precious despatches I was to risk my own and the lives of all my
shipmates to deliver.
[Illustration: "A RINGING CHEER FOLLOWED US AS THE THICK GREY MIST
RAPIDLY SWALLOWED US UP."]
"Here, sir," he said, "are the documents. They contain most important
political information, and _must_ be in the Governor's hands as
_soon as possible_. In case of any accident, burn them, throw them
overboard, destroy them somehow. But _don't_, for goodness' sake, let
them fall into the hands of the enemy. They are more important than I
dare hint at. Take them, and success go with you!"
The fog was as thick as ever when I got on deck, and getting into my
boat, we cautiously crept our way through the mist, and five minutes
later I was aboard.
I went at once down to my cabin and sent for my faithful first
lieutenant. I made him sit down, and told him what we had to do. He
did not seem to think it a very great piece of good luck.
"Quite good enough to have to chance it with the remainder," he said,
"without getting sent on beastly special service jobs. Still, there's
no help for it I suppose, and so we'll have to buckle to and get
ready."
And as Taylor had no inducement to make him long for adventures of
this kind, in the shape of a lady-love, I could hardly blame him for
not taking quite so enthusiastic a view of the affair as myself.
Meanwhile, time was advancing, and at four bells (2 p.m.) we got under
way. It was too foggy for the ships' companies to see much of us as we
moved away, but as we noiselessly glided through the now calm and oily
water with ever-increasing speed past the _Terrible_, someone noticed
us, and a ringing cheer followed us as the thick grey mist rapidly
swallowed us up.
And as we got settled down to our work we increased the speed, and
presently were going a good 20 knots per hour--never a slow speed, and
in such thick weather an infinitely perilous thing to do.
But then, as I told Taylor, "Fog or no fog, we've only got a few hours
to do it in, and we're about 150 miles away. Besides, we'll have to
ease down when we get close in shore, and so we'd better make the most
of it while we can." Nevertheless, I knew what a fearsome thing I was
doing.
Up on deck one could see but a few yards away from the ship's side.
All around us lay the white impenetrable mist, wrapping up everything
in its death-like folds, which shut out not only sight but sound.
Any moment the form of some ship might loom spectrally up through
the fog, and hurl us to destruction; and, clinging to the rail,
I constantly strained my eyes ahead, endeavouring to pierce the
impenetrable mist in front of us. In this way we continued throughout
the afternoon, and at four o'clock Taylor came up to relieve me on the
bridge. Going below, I took a hasty meal, and bethought myself of
the best plan for carrying the despatches, which I wished to keep
continually on my person.
Some instinct seemed to tell me that I should not suffer injury; and
while I lived I was determined that the documents should be delivered.
I decided to place them in an oilskin envelope, and then to put them
within my cholera belt--that indispensable adjunct to all those who
are constantly exposed to quick changes of temperature. When I did
eventually go on deck again it was nearly five, and to my great joy I
saw that the fog was decidedly lifting. Far away on our starboard beam
we could just catch a faint glimpse of Morocco's cruel-looking coast.
I went up on the bridge to Taylor. "Can you see anything?" he asked as
I came up. "What's in sight, old man?" I replied somewhat anxiously,
for I knew by his manner he had seen something worth looking at.
[Illustration: "WE COULD SEE THREE CRUISERS, THE ADVANCE GUARD OF THE
FRENCH FLEET."]
For answer he pointed dead ahead. And there, very faint and indistinct
in the still somewhat dense atmosphere, we could see three cruisers,
the advance guard of the French fleet.
"We must run in under the land, Taylor," I said, trembling with
suppressed excitement.
"We must certainly dodge those three beggars." He nodded and gave
orders for the wheel to be put round hard to port. Round came the
dear little craft, beautifully (she was a regular demon for turning,
performing the man[oe]uvre easily in her own length) and we headed
dead for the rocky coast.
"Half-speed," I shouted, and instantly "cling-clang!" rang out the
indicator bell as they put the engines down as I had ordered.
We were not observed as yet, but the fog was rapidly lifting now, and
soon we should be well within sight of the French, and the greatest
caution was necessary.
So for the next hour we crept slowly along, all eyes fixed on the
forest of masts ahead of us. It was by this time nearly pitch dark, an
unusual thing for the time of the year, which we put down to the dense
fog. It had lifted from the face of the waters, but would still be
hanging like a thick pall overhead.
As we advanced we could clearly see the great fleet of the enemy,
lying well on our port side, only about eight miles distant, and
spread out so as to cover a great extent.
We were right in under the shadow of the rocks, as close in now as I
dared venture, for although our draught was very light, the coast is
a most treacherous one, and any moment a sunken rock might do us
irreparable harm. All at once a broad bright streak of brilliant light
shot up into the dark and moonless night, followed first by one or
two, and then by many others, which crossed and recrossed the horizon
perpetually. The French had begun to work their searchlights!
[Illustration: "THE FRENCH BEGAN TO WORK THEIR SEARCHLIGHTS."]
And now commenced the real difficulty of our task. Should we venture
to even cross one of those brilliant paths of light so vividly
flashing all around us, we must inevitably be discovered. Speaking
in whispers, hardly daring even to breathe, I cautiously guided the
little vessel in and out and to and fro, so as to avoid if possible
those argus eyes. But no calculation, no precaution, could be of any
use to us now, and I knew not at what instant one of those lights
might be directed full on us, and reveal every detail of our vessel in
its pitilessly searching glare.
We were of course all ready for action, and I had given orders that
all the watertight compartments were to be closed. Taylor now came up
and reported everything ready, and the men assembled at their posts
ready for any and every emergency. The torpedo tubes were each and all
laden with their deadly freight, and the two 4·7 inch quick-firing bow
and stern guns were manned; the latter under Taylor's supervision, the
former under the gunner's.
I had increased our speed again, and we should soon be within hailing
distance of the out-lying French cruisers, and I knew that our
immunity could not last many moments more.
And sure enough, the next instant a blinding white light rested for
a couple of seconds upon us, throwing every little detail up into a
strong relief, and then was gone, leaving the black night blacker than
ever by contrast. It was the search light of the nearest Frenchman.
"Spotted, by George!" said Taylor, vehemently. "We're done!"
"Now or never!" I shouted. "Full speed ahead!"
Like a gallant racehorse responding to its rider's whip the little
craft sprang suddenly forward, and in a very few moments we were past
the cruiser, who had as yet not quite determined whether she had seen
us or not, out into the blackness beyond.
[Illustration: "THE WORK IN THE STOKE-HOLD WAS ENORMOUS."]
As I have already said, the fleet was lying well from us to port, and
the cruiser who had seen us was about the only ship we had immediately
to fear. But now she began to work all her search lights in our
direction, and every few seconds we were disclosed relentlessly in the
glare of their 25,000-candle-power lights. The attention of the other
ships had by this time been drawn to us, and now several more began to
dodge their lights about and around us.
"There she goes, sir," said the Quarter-master at the wheel to me the
next instant, as a brilliant flash came from the bows of the French
cruiser, followed by a loud and ringing report.
"Not a bad shot," said Taylor, as with a "whirrr-rrr-ooo" the
projectile shrieked its way through the air high over our heads.
"Gentle hint to lie to, sir," said the Quarter-master, with an attempt
at a smile.
As he spoke I could see the cruiser turning and steaming off after
us, flashing a signal to her flag-ship as she did so. Then two small
vessels detached themselves from the fleet and prepared to follow us
also.
But we were past them all, and had a full head of steam on, and so we
could reasonably hope to have a very good run for it at least.
Presently--bang! and another shot whizzed past us and lost itself in
the night.
It was a shell, and we heard it explode far ahead as it plunged down
into the water.
"Are the night sights all in good order?" I asked Taylor, who stood
close by, with his hands in his pockets, as nonchalant as ever,
smoking a cigarette.
"Everything's O.K., old man," was his reply. "I'd dearly love to give
'em a taste of our after 4·7. Don't you think we ought to, now?"
"No," said I; "I don't think we will just yet. We'll reserve that for
awhile till they get within closer range. They probably have not quite
made up their minds yet as to who we are!"
And now the chase grew furious.
We were rushing along for all we were worth, and our funnels were
almost red-hot, vomiting sparks and flames as copiously as smoke. The
roaring of our furnaces could be plainly heard on deck, and the work
in the stoke-hold was enormous. The cruiser behind us was gaining
slightly; but if we could manage to escape without much damage for the
next hour we should be well within range of Gibraltar, and the enemy
would hardly attempt to follow us any further. "Besides," said I to
Taylor, "if they hear firing, surely the _Rupert_ or the _Polyphemus_
will put out to reconnoitre, and of course either will be a very
valuable help."
All this time the cruiser had been firing intermittently, and we had
not taken much account of the two smaller vessels, who were beginning
to gain rapidly. They were torpedo-boat destroyers, and if they got
much closer we should have to avow our identity by opening fire.
But suddenly a great cloud of steam burst from the hindmost one, and
she began to rock violently.
"She's bust 'er b'iler, sir," said the Quarter-master. "_She_ ain't
no more good, anyway. That's one less to reckon with, sir." Evidently
something serious had occurred, for the boat swung round in her
course, and we could see the men rushing in confusion hither and
thither on her decks, while a dense cloud of steam still arose from
her funnels.
But the other boat was rapidly gaining.
Leaving Taylor in charge of the bridge, I rushed along aft to the
quarter deck. "Are you ready to fire?" I shouted to the captain of the
gun.
"Aye, aye, sir," was the cheery response from the man, a grizzled
old gunner's mate with a shaggy beard, who had seen service in every
corner of the globe--a man of cast-iron nerves, with a fondness for
rum and the everlasting piece of spun-yarn tied round his bare big
toe.
"Get a good sight on," I said. "Aim low at that torpedo boat coming up
astern, and fire when I give you the word. Put on about 1,000 yards,
but be sure to aim well down, now!"
The old veteran bent low and carefully over the tiny night sight.
"She's coming on beautif'ly, sir," he said. "I've got 'er fixed right
amidships. Ready, sir?"
As he spoke the cruiser's search-light accidentally rested full on the
torpedo boat. At the same instant a well-directed shot from her bow
gun rushed by us, crashing into the woodwork of the bridge behind our
backs.
"Fire!" I sang out.
A blinding flash, and the distressingly sharp report of cordite,
followed immediately. It was our first shot, but it did more damage
than the Frenchman, with all her firing, had been able to inflict on
us. As we strained our eyes in the direction of the boat, we saw the
shell burst right between her funnels.
"_Good_ shot!" I yelled in triumph.
[Illustration: "THE POOR WRETCHES RUSHED UP ON DECK TO FIND THEIR
FRAIL COCKLESHELL GOING OVER RAPIDLY."]
A brilliant flare of spark and flame shot suddenly up into the night,
and then came a fearful agonised pandemonium, as the poor wretches
rushed up on deck, to find their frail cockleshell of a ship hit in
her vitals, and going over rapidly. We could see the water full of
struggling figures, and then suddenly she heeled and collapsed, and I
could look no more, for the cruiser, without attempting to pick up a
soul, now began to fire rapidly and continuously at us.
Taylor, in our tiny conning tower, was steering a most erratic course,
which rendered hitting us a matter of some difficulty, as all the
target we presented was our stern, which, only coming at intervals
into the glare of the searchlight, was no easy matter to follow with a
gun.
We now began to fire continuously also, but could not tell whether our
shots told or not, and indeed we could hardly hope to do much damage,
for the cruiser was evidently a boat of weight, and, in accordance
with the French custom, would be heavily armoured round her bows.
I looked at my watch. It was past eight, and we could reasonably hope
to be within sight and hearing of Gibraltar soon.
For the next fifteen minutes nothing of importance happened; but just
as we sighted Tarifa Light ahead, there was a terrible crash, followed
by a loud report, and I was thrown flat on my back on the deck.
They had hit us in the stern, and evidently low down.
Jumping to my feet and half stunned by the shock, I rushed down below,
and attempted to discover the extent of the damage. The shell had
crashed right through the after bulk-heading, and had exploded in the
ward-room.
The wreckage was fearful. As far as I could tell from a hasty glance
round, there was not a single thing untouched.
I had no time to observe details though, but I noticed that the
foremost water-tight doors had held good, and the water, which was now
coming in very fast astern, would thus be prevented from gaining on
the fore part of the vessel.
But were the screws touched, or the steering-gear?
I was not able to make a direct examination, and went at once on deck
again, where the firing was now fast and furious.
Another and another shot struck us, and the sight was piteous. Not
a boat remained at the davits, and everywhere splinters were flying
about, wounding many a poor fellow as he stood at his gun. The shell
which had exploded below, too, had set the _Quickmatch_ on fire in two
places, and I had to send some men down with the hose, lest the fire
should spread to the deck beneath our feet.
Suddenly out of the darkness right ahead came a bright glare of light,
followed by the reports of several guns.
Looking, I beheld a sight that made my heart leap for very joy.
"Hurrah, the _Polyphemus_!" I shouted. "We shall do it yet, men!"
For the famous torpedo-ram, the only ship of her kind in the world,
had appeared on the scene, and a formidable opponent would our friends
the enemy find her.
[Illustration: "A SHOT CARRIED AWAY A FUNNEL AND KILLED POOR TAYLOR."]
And as if to damp my ardour there came another shot from the cruiser,
which, carrying away our foremost funnel with an awful crash, struck
the bridge, killing poor Taylor instantaneously as he stood there.
"Oh! the blackguards!" I yelled despairingly, my heart down in my
boots again, for the cruiser was now rapidly nearing us.
There was, unfortunately, no chance of our torpedoing her, for our
stern-tube had been knocked to atoms by the shell which had come in
astern. Were we to lose the day at the eleventh hour, and just as the
succour we so greatly needed came in sight? It was too bitter; and,
forgetful of every risk now, I shook my fist frantically at the
Frenchman, a frightful rage gnawing at my heart. After coming so far
and losing so many brave men, to fail at last!
But it had been ordained that I was not to fail in my mission,
after all, for the _Polyphemus_ had now to be reckoned with by the
Frenchman, and she was gallantly trying to draw the enemy's fire from
us to herself.
We were very close in shore, and the cruiser was now trying to get in
after us, so as to present one broadside to us and the other to the
_Polyphemus_.
She gave her helm a turn, and was almost down upon us.
Simultaneously the _Polyphemus_, that wonderful vessel, releasing
her false bottom, lightened her draught by several hundred tons, and
seemed to spring bodily into the air, and was in between us.
But not before a shot from the Frenchman, fired almost point blank,
struck our port upperdeck torpedo-tube.
There was a terrible deafening crash, and I was flung headlong into
the water.
Then came sudden silence, the more intense for the raving turmoil that
had filled my ears the moment before, and I went down and down, to
an apparently interminable depth, till I began to wonder, in an
impersonal sort of way, whether I were ever coming to the surface
again.
But before I had realised it, I had shot up again, and my head was
above water.
Heavily weighted as I was by my clothes and sea-boots, I struggled
fiercely to maintain my position. But though I felt no pain, a sudden
numbness had taken possession of my right leg, and vainly I attempted
to swim or tread water.
Twice I had already gone under, when I found myself grasped by the
coat collar, and a gruff voice shouted hoarsely in my ear, "Keep it
up, sir, you're all right!"
It was Bates, the gunner's mate, who had managed, as he had so many
times before, to escape unhurt, and had got hold of a spar. I grasped
his arm and the piece of oar, and looked about me.
The cold had restored my scattered faculties, and it was indeed
a fearful and heartrending sight that I beheld. Almost beyond
conception, the terrible scene is to this day branded on my brain,
never to be erased till my dying day.