CHAPTER FOUR.
OUR HERO AND HIS FRIENDS SEE SERVICE.
The _Waterwitch_ was commanded at this time by Captain Ward, a manpossessed of great energy and judgment, united to heroic courage. Hehad received orders to join that portion of the British fleet which,under Nelson, was engaged in searching for the French in theMediterranean, and had passed Cape St. Vincent on his way thither, whenhe fell in with the French vessel.
During the morning a thick fog had obscured the horizon, concealing theenemy from view. When the rising sun dispersed it he was suddenlyrevealed. Hence the abrupt order on board the _Waterwitch_ to preparefor action. As the fog lifted still more, another French vessel wasrevealed, and it was soon found that the English frigate had twoFrenchmen of forty-four guns each to cope with.
"Just as it should be!" remarked Captain Ward, when this wasascertained. "There would have been no glory in conquering oneFrenchman equal to my own ship in size!"
The _Waterwitch_ was immediately steered towards the ship that wasnearest, in the expectation that she would show fight at once, but theFrench commander, probably wishing to delay the engagement until hisother vessel could join him, made sail, and bore down on her. CaptainWard, on perceiving the intention, put on a press of canvas, andendeavoured to frustrate the enemy's design. In this he was onlypartially successful.
"Surely," said Bill Bowls to his friend Ben Bolter, with whom he wasstationed at one of the starboard guns on the main deck, "surely we arenear enough now to give 'em a shot."
"No, we ain't," said Tom Riggles, who was also stationed at the samegun; "an' depend on it Cap'n Ward is not the man to throw away his shotfor nothin'."
Ben Bolter and some of the other men at the gun agreed with thisopinion, so our hero, whose fighting propensities were beginning torouse up, had to content himself with gazing through the port-hole atthe flying enemy, and restrained his impatience as he best could.
At last the order was given to fire, and for an hour after that arunning fight was maintained, but without much effect. When, however,the two ships of the enemy succeeded in drawing sufficiently near toeach other, they hove to, and awaited the advance of the _Waterwitch_,plying her vigorously with shot as she came on.
Captain Ward only replied with his bow chasers at first. He walked thedeck with his hands behind his back without speaking, and, as far as hiscountenance expressed his feelings, he might have been waiting for asummons to dinner, instead of hastening to engage in an unequal contest.
"Cap'n Ward niver growls much before he bites," said Patrick Flinn, anIrishman, who belonged to Bowls's mess. "He minds me of a spalpeen of adog I wance had, as was uncommon fond o' fightin' but niver even showedhis teeth till he was within half a yard of his inemy, but, och! hegripped him then an' no mistake. You'll see, messmates, that we won'tgive 'em a broadside till we're within half pistol-shot."
"Don't take on ye the dooties of a prophet, Paddy," said Ben Bolter,"for the last time ye tried it ye was wrong."
"When was that?" demanded Flinn.
"Why, no longer ago than supper-time last night, when ye said ye hadeaten such a lot that ye wouldn't be able to taste another bite for amonth to come, an' didn't I see ye pitchin' into the wittles thismornin' as if ye had bin starvin' for a week past?"
"Git along wid ye," retorted Flinn; "yer jokes is as heavy as yerself,an' worth about as much."
"An' how much may that be?" asked Ben, with a grin.
"Faix, it's not aisy to tell. I would need to work it out in aalgibrabical calkilation, but if ye divide the half o' what ye know bythe double o' what ye don't know, an' add the quarter o' what ye mighthave know'd--redoocin' the whole to nothin', by means of a compound o'the rule o' three and sharp practice, p'r'aps you'll--"
Flinn's calculation was cut short at that moment by the entrance of around shot, which pierced the ship's side just above his head, and sentsplinters flying in all directions, one of which killed a man at thenext gun, and another struck Bill Bowls on the left arm, wounding himslightly.
The exclamations and comments of the men at the gun were stoppedabruptly by the orders to let the ship fall off and fire a broadside.
The _Waterwitch_ trembled under the discharge, and then a loud cheerarose, for the immediate result was that the vessel of the enemy whichhad hit them was partially disabled--her foretopmast and flying jibboomhaving been shot away.
The _Waterwitch_ instantly resumed her course and while Bill Bowls wasbusily employed in assisting to reload his gun, he could see that thetwo Frenchmen were close on their lee bow.
Passing to windward of the two frigates, which were named respectively_La Gloire_ and the _St. Denis_, Captain Ward received a broadside fromthe latter, without replying to it, until he had crossed her bow withinmusket range, when he delivered a broadside which raked her from stem tostern. He then wore ship, and, passing between the two, fired hisstarboard broadside into the _Gloire_, and, almost immediately after,his port broadside into the _St. Denis_.
The effect on the two ships was tremendous.
Their sails and rigging were terribly cut up, and several of the yardscame rattling down on their decks. The _Gloire_, in particular, had herrudder damaged. Seeing this, and knowing that in her crippled state shecould do him no further damage, Captain Ward passed on, sailed round thestern of the _St. Denis_, and, when within six yards of her, sent abroadside right in at her cabin windows. Then he ranged alongside andkept up a tremendous fire.
The Frenchmen stuck to their guns admirably, but the British firedquicker. At such close quarters every shot told on both sides. The dinand crash of such heavy artillery was terrific; and it soon becamealmost impossible to see what was going on for smoke.
Up to this point, although many of the men in the _Waterwitch_ had beenkilled or wounded, only one of those who manned the gun at which BillBowls served had been hit.
"It's too hot to last long," observed Flinn, as he thrust home a balland drew out the ramrod; "run her out, boys."
The men obeyed, and were in the act of pulling at the tackle, when ashot from the enemy struck the gun on the muzzle, tore it from itsfastenings, and hurled it to the other side of the deck.
Strange to say, only one of the men who worked it was hurt by the gun;but in its passage across the deck it knocked down and killed three men,and jammed one of the guns on the other side in such a way that itbecame for a time unserviceable. Ben Bolter and his comrades weremaking desperate efforts to clear the wreck, when they heard a shout ondeck for the boarders. The bowsprit of the _Waterwitch_ had by thattime been shot away; her rigging was dreadfully cut up, and her wheelsmashed; and Captain Ward felt that, if the _St. Denis_ were to getaway, he could not pursue her. He therefore resolved to board.
"Come along, lads," cried Tom Riggles, on hearing the order; "let's jine'em."
He seized his cutlass as he spoke, and dashed towards the ladder,followed by Bowls, Bolter, Flinn, and others; but it was so crowded withmen carrying the wounded down to the cockpit that they had to pause atthe foot.
At that moment a handsome young midshipman was carried past, apparentlybadly wounded.
"Och!" exclaimed Flinn, in a tone of deep anxiety, "it's not MisterCleveland, is it? Ah! don't say he's kilt!"
"Not quite," answered the midshipman, rousing himself, and looking roundwith flashing eyes as he endeavoured to wave his hand in the air. "I'lllive to fight the French yet."
The poor boy almost fainted from loss of blood as he spoke; and theIrishman, uttering a wild shout, ran towards the stern, intending togain the deck by the companion-hatch, and wreak his vengeance on theFrench. Bill Bowls and Ben Bolter followed him. As they passed thecabin door Bowls said hastily to Bolter, "I say, Ben, here, follow me;I'll show ye a dodge."
He ran into the cabin as he spoke and leaped out upon the quartergallery, which by that time was so close to the quarter of the _St.Denis_ that it was possible to jump from one to the other.
Without a moment's hesitation he spran
g across, dashed in one of thewindows, and went head foremost into the enemy's cabin, followed byBolter. Finding no one to oppose them there, they rushed upon deck andinto the midst of a body of marines who were near the after-hatchway.
"Down with the frog-eaters!" cried Ben Bolter, discharging his pistol inthe face of a marine with one hand, and cleaving down another with hiscutlass.
The "frog-eaters," however, were by no means despicable men; for one ofthem clubbed his musket and therewith hit Ben such a blow on the headthat he fell flat on the deck. Seeing this, Bill Bowls bestrode hisprostrate comrade, and defended him for a few seconds with the utmostfury.
Captain Ward, who had leaped into the mizzen chains of the enemy,leading the boarders, beheld with amazement two of his own men on thequarter-deck of the _St. Denis_ attacking the enemy in rear. Almost atthe same moment he observed the fall of one of them. His men also sawthis, and giving an enthusiastic cheer they sprang upon the foe and beatthem back. Bill Bowls was borne down in the rush by his friends, but hequickly regained his legs. Ben Bolter also recovered and jumped up. Infive minutes more they were masters of the ship--hauled down thecolours, and hoisted the Union Jack at the Frenchman's peak.
During the whole course of this action the _Gloire_, which had driftedwithin range, kept up a galling fire of musketry from her tops on thedeck of the _Waterwitch_. Just as the _St. Denis_ was captured, a ballstruck Captain Ward on the forehead, and he fell dead without a groan.
The first lieutenant, who was standing by his side at the moment, afterhastily calling several men to convey their commander below, ordered thestarboard guns of the prize to be fired into the _Gloire_. This wasdone with such effect that it was not found necessary to repeat thedose. The Frenchman immediately hauled down his colours, and the fightwas at an end.
It need scarcely be said that the satisfaction with which this victorywas hailed was greatly modified by the loss of brave Captain Ward, whowas a favourite with his men, and one who would in all probability haverisen to the highest position in the service, had he lived. He fellwhile his sun was in the zenith, and was buried in the ocean, that wideand insatiable grave, which has received too many of our brave seamen inthe prime of life.
The first lieutenant, on whom the command temporarily devolved,immediately set about repairing damages, and, putting a prize crew intoeach of the French ships, sailed with them to the nearest friendly port.
The night after the action Bill Bowls, Ben Bolter, and Tom Riggles satdown on the heel of the bowsprit to have a chat.
"Not badly hit?" asked Ben of Bill, who was examining the bandage on hisleft arm.
"Nothin' to speak of," said Bill; "only a scratch. I'm lucky to havegot off with so little; but I say, Ben, how does your head feel? ThatMounseer had a handy way o' usin' the handspike. I do believe he wouldhave cracked any man's skull but your own, which must be as thick as thehead of an elephant. I see'd it comin', but couldn't help ye.Hows'ever, I saved ye from a second dose."
"It wos pritty hardish," said Ben, with a smile, an' made the starssparkle in my brain for all the world like the rory borailis, as I'vesee'd so often in the northern skies; but it's all in the way o' trade,so I don't grumble; the only thing as bothers me is that I can't git myhat rightly on by reason of the bump.
"You've no cause to complain--neither of ye," said Tom Riggles, whoseleft hand was tied up and in a sling, "for you've lost nothin' but alittle blood an' a bit o' skin, whereas I've lost the small finger o' myright hand."
"Not much to boast of, that," said Ben Bolter contemptuously; "why, justthink of poor Ned Summers havin' lost an arm and Edwards a leg--not tomention the poor fellows that have lost their lives."
"A finger is bad enough," growled Tom.
"Well, so it is," said Bowls. "By the way, I would advise you to try alittle of that wonderful salve invented by a Yankee for such cases."
"Wot salve wos that?" asked Tom gruffly, for the pain of his wound wasevidently pretty severe.
"Why, the growin' salve, to be sure," replied Bill. "Everybody musthave heard of it."
"_I_ never did," said Tom. "Did you, Ben?"
"No, never; wot is it?"
"It's a salve for growin' on lost limbs," said Bill. "The Yankee triedit on a dog that had got its tail cut off. He rubbed a little of thesalve on the end of the dog, and a noo tail grow'd on next mornin'!"
"Gammon!" ejaculated Tom Riggles.
"True, I assure ye, as was proved by the fact that he afterwards rubbeda little of the salve on the end of the tail, and a noo dog growed on itin less than a week!"
"H'm! I wonder," said Tom, "if he was to rub some of it inside o' yourskull, whether he could grow you a noo set o' brains."
"I say, Bill," interposed Ben Bolter, "did you hear the first lieutenantsay where he intended to steer to?"
"I heard somethin' about Gibraltar, but don't know that he said we wasgoin' there. It's clear, hows'ever, that we must go somewhere to refitbefore we can be of any use."
"Ay; how poor Captain Ward would have chafed under this delay!" saidBill Bowls sadly. "He would have been like a caged tiger. That's theworst of war; it cuts off good and bad men alike. There's not a captainin the fleet like the one we have lost, Nelson alone excepted."
"Well, I don't know as to that," said Ben Bolter; "but there's no doubtthat Admiral Nelson is the man to lick the French, and I only hope thathe may find their fleet, and that I may be there to lend a hand."
"Ditto," said Bill Bowls.
"Do," added Tom Riggles.
Having thus expressed their sentiments, the three friends separated.Not long afterwards the _Waterwitch_ sailed with her prizes intoGibraltar.
Here was found a portion of the fleet which had been forwarded by EarlSt. Vincent to reinforce Nelson. It was about to set sail, and as therewas every probability that the _Waterwitch_ would require a considerabletime to refit, some of her men were drafted into other ships. Amongothers, our friends Bill Bowls, Ben Bolter, and Tom Riggles, were senton board the _Majestic_, a seventy-four gun ship of the line, commandedby Captain Westcott, one of England's most noted captains.
This vessel, with ten line-of-battle ships, set sail to join Nelson, andassist him in the difficult duty of watching the French fleet.