CHAPTER XV.
BEFORE CADIZ.
"For honour, glory, and the laws, Is native courage given; And he who fights his country's cause, Fights in the cause of Heaven."--DIBDIN.
It may be doubted whether the awful bombardment of Cadiz was a necessityof war. A bombardment is always a cruel undertaking, and often seemspositively cowardly. But Sir John had one particular reason of his own,independent of exigency, for this cannonade. There was still asmouldering fire of disaffection among the seamen of the fleet, and hetherefore determined to keep the sailors busy. Busy with a terriblebusy-ness surely, for day and night, night and day, the firing went on,while many a daring cutting-out expedition was organized; and in some ofthese, deeds of heroism were accomplished that the British nation maywell be proud of, even till this day. In one of these, during a boataction, Nelson himself was overpowered, and narrowly escaped beingslain. But for his coxswain, who twice or thrice interposed his own bodybetwixt the swords of the assailants and the commodore, the battle ofthe Nile would never have been fought.[C]
[C] This man was for his gallantry promoted to be a gunner, and not long afterwards was killed at his gun.
In the cutting-out expeditions and boat actions, in or near to theharbour, and in repelling attempts to run the blockade from the town,our officers, even our captains, fought side by side with their men.
The marines were particularly gallant and courageous. Sir John Jervisdelighted to honour this gallant body of men. They certainly deserved tobe petted and made much of; but the admiral had another reason for histreatment of them. He thought he might possibly have eventually to playthem off against the seamen in case of revolt.
Surely, upon the whole, this year 1797 was one of the most eventful inthe whole history of this long and bloody war. A dark cloud seemedhanging over our native land, which at any moment might burst into astorm that would end in our utter collapse, if not destruction. And theshadow of this cloud was in every heart. Nor is this to be wondered at.The people were positively an-hungered, the children were crying forbread. Far away in the north, the crops had all but failed, and famineand death stared the people in the face. Britain's best blood was beingdrained off to the wars; her sturdiest sons--those who ought to havestayed at home to work for the women and children--were "weeded away."Money seemed to have taken unto itself wings and flown off; and inFebruary the Bank of England itself came down with a crash, and closedits doors. Even those who in wild disorderly mobs did not preach anarchyor cry for bread, called aloud for "Peace." Peace, indeed! what wouldpeace have meant at such a time but dishonour and ruin. No, no! peacecould not again hover on her white wings over our distracted country formany a day. To make matters worse, Ireland was ripe for rebellion, andour British forces by land had been unsuccessful; for we had been beatenand thrashed by the French in Holland. Is it not a pretty picture?
But the darkest hour had yet to come. I have already told you about thecombination formed against us. Well, had the Dutch fleet been able tojoin forces with the French, this brave Britain of ours would no longerhave ruled the ocean, and all the horrors of invasion, massacre, andrapine would have been added to our other troubles. We were dependingupon our Channel fleet to avert the last and overwhelming calamity, whenall at once, to the horror of every one, this fleet mutinied and refusedto go to sea. They even seized their officers, and though they lifted nohand against them, they disarmed them, and either made them prisoners orallowed a few, among whom were medical officers, to go on shore.
The men demanded increase in pay and other allowances; and it must beconfessed that, upon the whole, they had their grievances. It was notbefore several anxious weeks had gone by that the differences weresettled.
It was the good old admiral Lord Howe who himself brought the king'sfree pardon to the men, and the Act of Parliament granting them theirjust demands. He was a very great favourite, and looked upon as quite afather to the fleet.
Then on the 17th of May the ships put to sea.
"_Up and down the streets, carrying red flags, his fellows marched._" Page 133.]
We must remember that seamen in the royal navy in those old days had agood deal to complain of. The pay was inadequate, the food was oftenunfit for human consumption, leave was seldom given in port, anddiscipline was often maintained by the cat-o'-nine-tails, the servicesof which might in nine cases out of ten have been dispensed with.
Just a word or two about the mutiny at the Nore, and I have done, forever I trust, with so shocking a subject. The men here were far moreinsolent and overbearing in their demands. The president of themutineers--fancy calling a mutineer a president!--was, worse luck, aScotsman from Perth, of the name of Parker. He indeed ruled it for atime with a high hand, and was virtually admiral of the fleet atSheerness, up and down the streets of which, carrying red flags, hisfellows marched, in order to secure the sympathy of civilians.
At this time, it will be remembered, Admiral Duncan was blockading theTexel, hemming in the Dutch fleet so that they might not join theFrench. Was it not a terrible thing that with the exception of twoships--the _Venerable_ (the flagship) and the _Adamant_--his fleetshould desert him, sail across the water and join the scoundrel Parkerat the Nore?
Poor Scotch Duncan! When even the men of the flagship showed signs ofrevolting, he drew them around him, and in a voice which seemed almostchoked with rising tears addressed them in words that were at oncesimple and touching. His concluding sentences were somewhat asfollows:--
"Often and often, men, it has been my pride with you to look into theTexel on a foe which dreaded to come out to meet us. But my pride ishumbled now indeed; and no words of mine can express to you the anguishand sorrow in my heart. To be deserted by my fleet in the presence ofthe enemy is a disgrace that is hard, hard to bear, for never could Ihave deemed it possible."
That speech settled Jack as far as the flagship was concerned; forBritish sailors really have soft, kind hearts. It is as true even tothis hour what Dibdin wrote about Jack as it was in the dashing days ofold:--
"'Longside of an enemy, boldly and brave, He'll with broadside on broadside regale her; Yet he'll sigh to the soul o'er that enemy's grave, So noble's the mind of a sailor.
"Let cannons roar loud, burst their sides let the bombs, Let the winds a dread hurricane rattle, The rough and the pleasant he takes as it comes, And laughs at the storm and battle.
"To rancour unknown, to no passion a slave, Nor unmanly, nor mean, nor a railer, He's gentle as mercy, as fortitude brave, And this is a true British sailor."
President Parker of the "Republic Afloat" formed a cordon across themouth of the Thames, and intercepted all traffic. But he did not burn along peat stack, to use a Scotticism; for the nation was enraged at him,and one by one his ships went back to their allegiance. He was seized,and after a three days' trial was condemned and executed, cool andintrepid to the very last.
The battle of St. Vincent--by no means a crowning victory--did much tocheer the drooping hearts of the people of England. It was an earnest ofwhat was to follow, and probably did more to restrain the crawling demonRevolution than anything else could have done; for Britain ever lovedher ships and her sailors.
But none knew the state of our country at this time better than Sir JohnJervis, nor how much depended upon the success of our arms at sea. Itwas for this reason that he threw himself so thoroughly heart and soulinto the great game of naval warfare, and became the pivot around whichthe whole fleet lived and moved.
There were many petty officers, and men too, among the ships who werefully aware that we were fighting against fearful odds. But a sailor isso constituted that he never lets care trouble him. Jack Mackenzie wasa very great favourite with his men. He knew the way to their hearts. Itwas not his young friend Murray's bedside only that he visited. Therewas not a wounded or a sick man in the whole ship who did not see him atleast once a day, and he freely
distributed wine, jellies, and manyanother dainty from his own mess to comfort and sustain the sick.
Jack spliced the main-brace sometimes too. One Saturday evening hereturned from a very daring and extra-well-carried-out brush with theenemy's river craft, in which his gallant fellows had cut out a barquefrom the very harbour's mouth, without the loss of a man. As soon as hehad refreshed himself somewhat with a bath and change of clothes, hevisited young Murray, whom he found doing well, and hopeful now that hewould live to see his little sweetheart once again. Then he saw the sickmen, after which he gave orders to splice the main-brace.
Walking forward some hours after this, you might have heard such songsas "Tom Bowling" rolled up from near the forecastle, or Dibdin's"Saturday Night at Sea."
"'Twas Saturday night: the twinkling stars Shone on the rippling sea; No duty called the jovial tars, The helm was lashed a-lee. The ample can adorned the board: Prepared to see it out, Each gave the lass that he adored, And pushed the can about."
Jack on this particular evening had M'Hearty and Tom Fairlie to dinewith him, and they were still lingering over dessert, when the stewardinformed the captain that Jones the boatswain desired to speak to him.
It was an odd request at such a time, but Jones was immediatelyadmitted. His face was very serious indeed. He glanced uneasily at theservants, and interpreting the look to mean that he wished privacy,Captain Mackenzie ordered them to retire.
If Jones was serious, Jack was much more so when he made his statement,which he did in straightforward British sailor's English.