CHAPTER XIII.
A HAPPY SHIP.
"On Friendship so many perfections attend That the rational comfort of life is a friend." DIBDIN.
In the early part of the present century the poet Dibdin wrote withgreat feeling and spirit concerning the "generous Britons and thebarbarous French." There is no doubt about it, the French in those dayswere far more cruel to their prisoners than ever we were to ours.
And so the wounded on board the _Tonneraire_ were absolutely astoundedat the kind treatment they experienced under good M'Hearty and hisassistants. The surgeon himself looked in face--or figure-head--as roughand weather-beaten a sailor as ever trod a plank, but in heart he was astender as any woman.
More than one of his poor patients wrung the doctor's red hands, and,with tears rolling over their sallow cheeks, prayed Heaven to bless himfor his goodness and sympathy.
But this was not all, for even the men were good to the prisoners. Manya morsel of tobacco did they give them on the sly; and if a Jack-tarobserved that one was asleep in his hammock, he would sign to hisfellows to make as little noise as possible. It is no wonder, therefore,that the "Froggies," as they were called, nearly all recovered fromtheir wounds. Two or three, however, succumbed, and these were buriedwith as much ceremony as if they had been British sailors. The sameimpressive and beautiful service was repeated by the grating where thebody lay; the same solemn silence prevailed while it was being read; andI am not sure that some of our Jacks did not even shed a tear--on thesly, that is, for your true sailor ever tries to hide two things, hisgrief and his tender-heartedness--as with dull plash the body droppedinto the sea.
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Contrary winds and storms delayed the voyage. Nearly a whole month flewby, and still the little fleet had not yet reached the longitude ofNewfoundland. But to his credit be it told, Jack and his officers hadmanaged to keep them all well together, and had not lost one.
The _Tonneraire_ was a very happy ship, the primary reason being thatJack Mackenzie, though a thorough upholder of the sacredness of duty,was really kind and thoughtful at heart. He knew the value in theservice of strict obedience to command. I have heard it said that aman-o'-war sailor or a soldier is a mere machine. He is not even that,he is only part of a machine; but he has the honour to be part andportion of one of the grandest machines that ever were perfected--theupholder of our national honour, the defender of British hearths andhomes, and the protector of tender women and helpless babies.
We man-o'-war sailors, and ye soldiers, carry on war, it is true, and wehit just as hard as we know how to--and war is a fearful game at thebest; but, dear civilians, do not forget that we constitute the onlyinstitutions that can render peace possible, and your homes happy andsafe, machines though we be.
But how would it be if strict, unthinking, unhesitating obedience werenot exacted from every man and officer in the service to the commands ofhis superior officers? Why, on the day of battle the army or navy wouldbe a mere squabbling mob, worse even than the British Parliament.
I may mention here that it was his cheerful obedience to orders, hisgood-natured smiling alacrity--minus officiousness, mind you--hisunselfishness and his bravery, that gained for Jack Mackenzie the proudposition he now held.
Young men who mean to enter the service should read that last sentenceof mine over again, ay, even get it by heart.
I digress, you say? So I do.
Well, I was saying that the _Tonneraire_ was a happy ship. All theofficers, both junior and senior, agreed. The chief lights of the seniormess were Tom Fairlie, always good-humoured and cheerful; honestM'Hearty, rough and genial; young Murray, the boy marine officer, merryand innocent; and Simmons the master, who _would_ have his growl, whowas all thunder without the lightning, but a very excellent old fellow,when young Murray didn't tease him _too_ much. Between M'Hearty,Fairlie, Murray, and Jack himself a strange sort of a compact was made.It was Murray who proposed it one lovely moonlight night, when the fourwere together on the poop. Young Murray had cheek enough for anything.He was the second son of a noble lord, and would himself be a lord oneday--probably. Not that his rank in life made him any the cheekier, butI suppose it was born in the boy. He cared little or nothing for theetiquette or punctilios of the service when it suited him not to. Forexample, he one day actually linked his arm through that of an admiralon the quarter-deck. Everybody was aghast; but the good old admiralmerely smiled. He knew boys and liked them.
But that night on the quarter-deck Murray said openly and innocently toJack: "I like you, sir--fact, I wish you were my brother; and you too,Fairlie, though you're a fool sometimes; and you, M'Hearty, thoughyou're often absurdly rough. I wish we could be together for years andyears and years, in the same ship, you know, and all that sort ofthing."
"Well, why not?" said M'Hearty. "Let us try; eh, captain?"
"I'm agreeable," said Jack.
"And I," said Fairlie.
"Hurrah!" cried Murray. So the compact was made.
The men forward, taking the cue from their officers, were just asjolly.
Those were terrible days of flogging. For a look or a glance, a manmight be tied up and receive four dozen lashes with the terrible "cat."It was a brutal punishment. But M'Hearty was dead against it; Jack too;and so the grating was never rigged on board the _Tonneraire_.
Well, despite dirty weather and head winds, the fleet finally sailedinto the mouth of the St. Lawrence river without ever losing a stick. Atthe Canadian capital, Jack and his officers, ay, and the men as well,had what the Yankees call "a real good time of it." Jack became quite ahero among the ladies, young and old. Yet he did not let that elate him.His heart was not his own--as yet, though he might get over his grieffor his lost love Gerty.
But having refitted, there was nothing left but to put to sea again.
The _Tonneraire_ cruised all down by the American coast and to the WestIndies. Before reaching Jamaica she was attacked by two Frenchline-of-battle ships. What they were doing here they themselves bestknew. They were badly wanted just then on the other side of the sea. Nowthis was a chance to test the sailing powers of the _Tonneraire_.Discretion is sometimes better than valour. Valour is sometimes folly.Jack ran. Nelson himself did so once or twice. You and I, my bold youngreader, are not going to stand a blow from a big fellow without hittingback; but if the big fellow brings his big brother, then we may as welltake the opportunity of going shopping, or somewhere. Jack Mackenziewent shopping, so to speak, and the _Tonneraire_ won the race.
I wish I had space in my story to tell you something about Jamaica, andthe lovely West India Islands, first discovered by Columbus. I amstrangely tempted to. I will. I _won't_. I shall. I _shan't_. Belay!I've won.
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At the time of which I am writing--the latter end of 1796--there was avery pretty naval combination formed, with a view to crush the might ofBritain. The French, who had a navy nearly as powerful as our own, gotthe Dutch and Spaniards to join them, and felt certain that we should godown to Davy Jones by the run, and never more--
"Sweep through the deep While stormy winds do blow."
Instead of saying "got the Dutch and Spaniards to join them," I shouldhave written, "formed an alliance with these nations against us,"because we determined that, with Heaven on our side, we should prevent ajunction of the fleets. So brave Scotch Duncan shut the Dutch up in theTexel like a lot of rats. They had not the pluck to come out and fighthim. Well, Duncan would have blown them sky-high, as he eventually did.There was a French fleet at Brest, and the Spaniards farther south, andhad they all got together--but then they didn't. You know the positionof a game of draughts when you have one of your enemy's crowned heads ineach corner, and he cannot move without danger. That is blockade, andthat is how we held and meant to hold the French, Spaniards, and Dutchtill we should smash them time about, and then sing, "Britannia, thepride of the ocean,"
or some bold equivalent thereto.
The Spaniards had their lesson first.
It was well for Jack Mackenzie that he arrived off Cadiz in his swift_Tonneraire_[B] about a week before the great battle of St. Vincent. Ido not mean to describe this fight at any length; every school-boy knowsall about it. I merely wish to remind the reader of some of its chiefevents, because to me it has always seemed such a blood-stirringbattle. The haughty Don had a fleet of twenty-seven sail of the line andtwo frigates. Some of his ships, like the _Santissima-Trinidad_, wereperfect _montes belli_--thunder-bergs. Fancy a four-decker carrying onehundred and thirty guns! and the Spaniards had six that carried onehundred and twenty; while we had only two of one hundred guns, the_Victory_ and _Britannia_.
[B] Fictitious name, the reader of history will note.
On the 1st of February Lord St. Vincent, then Sir John Jervis, was inthe Tagus with only ten ships; but as the great fleet of the Don sailedfrom Carthagena to effect a junction with the French fleet at Toulon,Jervis set sail after them. He meant to spoil some of the paint-workabout that fine Spanish fleet. It was very brave of him, and quiteBritish. Luckily on the 6th he was joined by Admiral Parker with fiveships, and on the 13th--hurrah!--by Commodore Nelson himself. Strangelyenough, Nelson on the previous night seems to have sailed right throughthe Spanish fleet.
St. Valentine's Day 1797 will ever be memorable in the naval annals ofthis country, for, in a driving mist and fog, our fleet that morningforgathered with the might of Spain off Cape St. Vincent. The majesticappearance of the ships of the Don could not but have impressed ourofficers and men, but it did not awe them. The bigger the ship thelarger the target, our Nelson used to say.
Our fleet advanced in two beautiful lines. The Spaniards somehow had gotdivided into two groups--one of nineteen ships, the other group somedistance to leeward--and these two made haste to unite. But Jervisspoiled that move by getting between them and attacking the main body.After the battle had fairly commenced, and each ship of ours had herorders, Nelson noted an attempt on the part of Don Josef de Cordova topass round Jervis's rear and join the other portion of the fleet; anddespite the fact that he was disobeying orders--"They can but hang me,"he said to Captain Miller--he slipped back and threw his ship, the_Captain_, right athwart the mighty _Santissima-Trinidad_, thus drivingthe Don's fleet back. It was, as the reader knows, this daring action onthe part of Nelson that decided the battle. But how terribly the fightraged after that; how pluckily Nelson, with his vessel a wreck, boardedand captured ship after ship; how the hell of battle raged for threelong hours, let history tell, as well as speak of cases of individualheroism. Suffice it for me to say that the battle was won and the Donwas thrashed, among the captured ships being the mighty _Trinidad_herself, the Spanish admiral's castle.
The _Tonneraire_ suffered severely. Sixty poor fellows would never againsee their native land, and many more were wounded.
Young Murray was among the severely wounded, but Jack himself, and Tomas well, escaped without a scratch.
"Oh dear me, dear me!" said M'Hearty, running up for a few moments fromthe heat and smoke of the stifling cockpit, "I am thirsty."
Poor M'Hearty! he wasn't a pretty sight to look at, begrimed with smokeand blood. But he just had a drink, and a big one, and went back oncemore to his terrible work.
But the good doctor was washed and dressed and smiling again when hecame to the captain's cabin that evening while the stars were shining,to report, "Everything tidy, and all going on well."
"And poor Murray?" said Jack.
"He'll be all right--a bullet clean through the chest. That's nothing toa young fellow like him."
"Well, stay and dine," said Jack.
"Willing, sir. What a glorious day we've had! But I can assure you,Captain Mackenzie, I'd rather have had my head above the hatches, nowand then, anyhow."
"Be content," said Jack, laughing; "it might have been blown off, youknow."