CHAPTER SEVEN.
BATTLE OF THE NILE--CONTINUED.
The _Majestic_ was one of the four ships which sailed into action in thewake of the Admiral. Our hero, Bill Bowls, and his friend Ben Bolter,were stationed at one of the guns on the larboard side of the main deck.Flinders stood near them. Everything was prepared for action. Theguns were loaded, the men, stripped to the waist, stood ready, and thematches were lighted, but as yet no order had been given to fire. Themen on the larboard side of the ship stood gazing anxiously through theportholes at the furious strife in which they were about to engage.
"Ah, then! but it's hot work is goin' on," said Flinders, turning to BenBolter just after a crash of artillery somewhat louder than usual.
"It's hotter work ye'll see soon, when the Admiral gits into action,"said Ben.
"True for ye," answered Flinders; "he's a broth of a boy for fightin'.It's an Irishman he should have been born. Hooroo, my hearties! lookout!"
This latter exclamation was drawn forth by the crashing of a stray shot,which entered the ship close to the spot where they stood, and passedout on the starboard side, sending splinters of wood flying in alldirections, without hurting any one.
"There goes the first!" said Bill Bowls, looking up at the ragged holethat was left.
"Faix, but it's not the last!" cried Flinders, as another stray shot hitthe ship, wounding one of the men, and sending a splinter so close pastthe Irishman that it grazed his cheek. "Hooroo, boys! come on, the morethe merrier! Sure it's death or victory we'll be havin' inhalf-an-hour."
At this moment of intense excitement and expectation, when every man'snerves tingled to be called into vigorous action, Ben Bolter saw fit togive Flinders a lecture.
"Ye shouldn't ought to speak misrespectful of death, boy," said hegravely. "He's a rough customer when he gits hold of 'e, an' is sartinsure to have the upper hand. It's my opinion that he'll pay this ship apretty stiff visit to-night, so you'd better treat him with respect, an'belay yer jokin'--of which yer countrymen are over fond."
To this Flinders listened with a humorous expression about the cornersof his eyes, while he stroked his chin, and awaited a pause in order tomake a suitable reply, but an exclamation from Bill Bowls changed thesubject abruptly.
"Ho! boys," he cried, "there goes the Admiral."
A tremendous crash followed his words, and the _Vanguard_ was seen topour a broadside into the _Spartiate_--as before related.
The men of the _Majestic_ gazed eagerly at the Admiral's ship, which wasalmost enveloped in thick smoke as they passed ahead, but an order fromCaptain Westcott to be ready for action called the attention of everyman on his duty. Whatever might have been, at that moment, the thoughtsof the hundreds of men on board the _Majestic_, the whole soul and bodyof every man appeared to be concentrated on his own gun, as he awaitedin stern silence the order to act.
It came at last, but somewhat differently from what had been expected.A sudden and peculiar motion was felt in the ship, and it was found thatshe had got entangled with the main rigging of one of the French vesselsastern of the _L'Orient_. Instantly men were sent aloft to cut clear,but before this could be accomplished a perfect storm of shot and shellwas sent into them from the towering sides of the three-decker. Menfell on all sides before they had an opportunity of firing a shot; againand again the crushing shower of metal came; spars and masts fell; therigging was cut up terribly, and in a short time the _Majestic_ wouldcertainly have been sunk had she not fortunately managed to swing clear.A moment afterwards Captain Westcott, finding himself close alongsidethe _Heureux_--the ninth ship of the enemy's line--gave the word to openfire, and Bill Bowls had at last the satisfaction of being allowed toapply a light to the touch-hole of his gun. Seventy-four men had forsome time past felt their fingers itching with an almost irresistibledesire to do this, and now upwards of thirty of them were allowed togratify their wish. Instantly the good ship received a shock thatcaused her to quiver from the trucks to the keel, as her broadside wentcrashing into the _Heureux_.
No longer was there impatient inaction on board the _Majestic_, for notonly did the _Heureux_ reply vigorously, but the _Tonnant_--the eighthof the enemy's line--opened fire on their other side. The _Majestic_therefore fought on both sides. Throughout the whole ship the stalwart,half-naked men heaved at the huge guns. Everywhere, from stem to stern,was exhibited in full swing the active processes of sponging out,passing along powder and ball, ramming home the charges, running out,working the handspikes, stepping aside to avoid the recoil--and thewhole operation of working the guns, as only British seamen know how towork them! All this was done in the midst of smoke, flame, crashingshot, and flying splinters, while the decks were slippery with humanblood, and strewn with dead men, from amongst whom the wounded wereraised as tenderly as the desperate circumstances in which they wereplaced would admit of, and carried below. Many of those who were thusraised never reached the cockpit, but again fell, along with those whobore them.
One of the men at the gun where Bill Bowls was at work was in the act ofhanding a round shot to Bill, when a ball entered the port-hole and hithim on the head, scattering his brains over the gun. Bill sprangforward to catch him in his arms, but slipped on the bloody deck andfell. That fall saved his life, for at the same moment a musket ballentered the port and passed close over his head, shattering the arm of apoor boy--one of those brave little fellows called powder-monkeys--whowas in the act of carrying a cartridge to Ben Bolter. Ben could notdelay the loading of the piece to assist the little fellow, who used hisremaining strength to stagger forward and deliver the cartridge beforehe fell, but he shouted hastily to a passing shipmate--
"Here, Davis, carry this poor little chap to the cockpit."
Davis turned and took the boy in his arms. He had almost reached themain hatchway when a shell entered the ship and burst close to him. Onefragment killed the boy, and another almost cut Davis in two. They felland died together.
For a long time this terrible firing at short range went on, and manymen fell on both sides. Among others, Captain Westcott was killed. Hewas the only captain who fell in that battle, and was one who, had hislife been spared, would certainly have risen to the highest rank in theservice. He had "risen from the ranks," having been the son of a bakerin Devonshire, and gained the honourable station in which he lost hislife solely through his conspicuous abilities and courage.
Up to this point none of those who are principally concerned in thistale had received any hurt, beyond a few insignificant scratches, butsoon after the death of the little boy, Tom Riggles received a severewound in the leg from a splinter. He was carried below by Bill and Ben.
"It's all over with me," he said in a desponding tone as they wentslowly down the ladders; "I knows it'll be a case o' ampitation."
"Don't you go for to git down-hearted, Tom," said Ben earnestly."You're too tough to be killed easy."
"Well, I _is_ tough, but wot'll toughness do for a feller agin ironshot. I feels just now as if a red-hot skewer wos rumblin' about amongthe marrow of my back-bone, an' I've got no feelin' in my leg at all.Depend upon it, messmates, it's a bad case."
His comrades did not reply, because they had reached the gloomy placewhere the surgeons were engaged at their dreadful work. They laid Tomdown on a locker.
"Good-bye, lads," said Tom, as they were about to turn away, "p'r'apsI'll not see ye again, so give us a shake o' yer flippers."
Bill and Ben silently squeezed their comrade's hand, being unable tospeak, and then hastened back to their stations.
It was about this time that the _L'Orient_ caught fire, and when Billand his friend reached the deck, sheets of flame were already leapingout at the port-holes of the gigantic ship. The sides of the _L'Orient_had been recently painted, and the paint-buckets and oil-jars whichstood on the poop soon caught, and added brilliancy to the greatconflagration which speedily followed the first outbreak of fire. Itwas about nine o'clock when the fire was first observed
. Before thisthe gallant French Admiral had perished. Although three times wounded,Brueys refused to quit his post. At length a shot almost cut him intwo, but still he refused to go below, and desired to be left to die onhis quarter-deck. He was spared the pain of witnessing the destructionof his vessel.
Soon the flames got the mastery, and blazing upward like a mighty torch,threw a strong and appropriate light over the scene of battle. Thegreater part of the crew of the _L'Orient_ displayed a degree of couragewhich could not be surpassed, for they stuck to their guns to the verylast; continuing to fire from the lower deck while the fire was ragingabove them, although they knew full well the dire and instantaneousdestruction that must ensue when the fire reached the magazine.
The position and flags of the two fleets were now clearly seen, for itwas almost as light as day, and the fight went on with unabated furyuntil about ten o'clock, when, with a terrific explosion, the _L'Orient_blew up. So tremendous was the shock that it seemed to paralyse thecombatants for a little, for both fleets ceased to fire, and thereensued a profound silence, which continued for some time. The firstsound that broke the solemn stillness was the splash of the fallingspars of the giant ship as they descended from the immense height towhich they had been shot!
Of the hundreds of human beings who manned that ship, scarcely a tithewere saved. About seventy were rescued by English boats. The scatteredand burning fragments fell around like rain, and there was much fearlest these should set some of the neighbouring vessels on fire. Twolarge pieces of burning wreck fell into the _Swiftsure_, and a port fireinto the _Alexander_, but these were quickly extinguished.
On board the _Majestic_ also, some portions of burning material fell.While these were being extinguished, one of the boats was ordered out todo all that was possible to save the drowning Frenchmen. Among thefirst to jump into this boat were Bill Bowls and Ben Bolter. Bill tookthe bow oar, Ben the second, and in a few moments they were pullingcautiously amid the debris of the wreck, helping to haul on board suchpoor fellows as they could get hold of. The work was difficult, becausecomparative darkness followed the explosion, and as the fight was soonresumed, the thunder of heavy guns, together with the plunging of ball,exploding of shell, and whizzing of chain-shot overhead, rendered theservice one of danger as well as difficulty.
It was observed by the men of the _Majestic's_ boat that several Frenchboats were moving about on the same errand of mercy with themselves, andit was a strange as well as interesting sight to see those who, a fewminutes before, had been bent on taking each other's lives, now asearnestly engaged in the work of saving life!
"Back your starboard oars," shouted Ben, just as they passed one of theFrench boats; "there's a man swimming on the port bow--that's it;steady; lend a hand, Bill; now then, in with him."
A man was hoisted over the gunwale as he spoke, and the boat passedonward. Just then a round shot from one of the more distant ships ofthe fleet--whether English or French they could not tell--struck thewater a few yards from them, sending a column of spray high into theair. Instead of sinking, the shot ricochetted from the water andcarried away the bow of the boat in passing, whirling it round andalmost overturning it. At the same moment the sea rushed in and swampedit, leaving the crew in the water.
Our hero made an involuntary grasp at the thing that happened to benearest him. This was the head of his friend Ben Bolter, who had beenseated on the thwart in front of him. Ben returned the grasp promptly,and having somehow in the confusion of the plunge, taken it into hishead that he was in the grasp of a Frenchman, he endeavoured to throttleBill. Bill, not being easily throttled, forthwith proceeded to chokeBen, and a struggle ensued which might have ended fatally for both, hadnot a piece of wreck fortunately touched Ben on the shoulder. He seizedhold of it, Bill did the same, and then they set about the fight withmore precision.
"Come on, ye puddock-eater!" cried Ben, again seizing Bill by thethroat.
"Hallo, Ben!"
"Why, wot--is't you, Bill? Well, now, if I didn't take 'e for aMounseer!"
Before more could be said a boat was observed rowing close past them.Ben hailed it.
"Ho!" cried a voice, as the men rested on their oars and listened.
"Lend a hand, shipmates," cried Ben, "on yer port bow."
The oars were dipped at once, the boat ranged up, and the two men wereassisted into it.
"It's all well as ends well, as I've heerd the play-actors say,"observed Ben Bolter, as he shook the water from his garments. "I say,lads, what ship do you belong to?"
"Ve has de honair to b'long to _Le Guillaume Tell_," replied one of themen.
"Hallo, Bill!" whispered Ben, "it's a French boat, an' we're nabbed.Prisoners o' war, as sure as my name's BB! Wot's to be done?"
"I'll make a bolt, sink or swim," whispered our hero.
"You vill sit still," said the man who had already spoken to them,laying a hand on Bill's shoulder.
Bill jumped up and made a desperate attempt to leap overboard, but twomen seized him. Ben sprang to the rescue instantly, but he also wasoverpowered by numbers, and the hands of both were tied behind theirbacks. A few minutes later and they were handed up the side of theFrench ship.
When day broke on the morning of the 2nd of August, the firing stillcontinued, but it was comparatively feeble, for nearly every ship of theFrench fleet had been taken. Only the _Guillaume Tell_ and the_Genereux_--the two rear ships of the enemy--had their colours flying.
These, with two frigates, cut their cables and stood out to sea. The_Zealous_ pursued, but as there was no other British ship in a fit stateto support her, she was recalled; the four vessels, therefore, escapedat that time, but they were captured not long afterwards. Thus endedthe famous battle of the Nile, in regard to which Nelson said that itwas a "conquest" rather than a victory.
Of thirteen sail of the line, nine were taken and two burnt; and two oftheir four frigates were burnt. The British loss in killed and woundedamounted to 896; that of the French was estimated at 2000.
The victory was most complete. The French fleet was annihilated. Asmight be supposed, the hero of the Nile was, after this, almostworshipped as a demigod. It is worthy of remark here that Nelson, assoon as the conquest was completed, sent orders through the fleet thatthanksgiving should be returned, in every ship, to Almighty God, for thevictory with which He had blessed His Majesty's arms.