As We Sweep Through The Deep Part 13

[B] Fict.i.tious name, the reader of history will note.

On the 1st of February Lord St. Vincent, then Sir John Jervis, was in the Tagus with only ten ships; but as the great fleet of the Don sailed from Carthagena to effect a junction with the French fleet at Toulon, Jervis set sail after them. He meant to spoil some of the paint-work about that fine Spanish fleet. It was very brave of him, and quite British. Luckily on the 6th he was joined by Admiral Parker with five ships, and on the 13th--hurrah!--by Commodore Nelson himself. Strangely enough, Nelson on the previous night seems to have sailed right through the Spanish fleet.

St. Valentine's Day 1797 will ever be memorable in the naval annals of this country, for, in a driving mist and fog, our fleet that morning forgathered with the might of Spain off Cape St. Vincent. The majestic appearance of the ships of the Don could not but have impressed our officers and men, but it did not awe them. The bigger the ship the larger the target, our Nelson used to say.

Our fleet advanced in two beautiful lines. The Spaniards somehow had got divided into two groups--one of nineteen ships, the other group some distance to leeward--and these two made haste to unite. But Jervis spoiled that move by getting between them and attacking the main body.

After the battle had fairly commenced, and each ship of ours had her orders, Nelson noted an attempt on the part of Don Josef de Cordova to pa.s.s round Jervis's rear and join the other portion of the fleet; and despite 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 driving the Don's fleet back. It was, as the reader knows, this daring action on the part of Nelson that decided the battle. But how terribly the fight raged after that; how pluckily Nelson, with his vessel a wreck, boarded and captured ship after ship; how the h.e.l.l of battle raged for three long hours, let history tell, as well as speak of cases of individual heroism. Suffice it for me to say that the battle was won and the Don was thrashed, among the captured ships being the mighty _Trinidad_ herself, the Spanish admiral's castle.

The _Tonneraire_ suffered severely. Sixty poor fellows would never again see their native land, and many more were wounded.

Young Murray was among the severely wounded, but Jack himself, and Tom as well, escaped without a scratch.

"Oh dear me, dear me!" said M'Hearty, running up for a few moments from the heat and smoke of the stifling c.o.c.kpit, "I am thirsty."

Poor M'Hearty! he wasn't a pretty sight to look at, begrimed with smoke and blood. But he just had a drink, and a big one, and went back once more to his terrible work.

But the good doctor was washed and dressed and smiling again when he came 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 to a young fellow like him."

"Well, stay and dine," said Jack.

"Willing, sir. What a glorious day we've had! But I can a.s.sure you, Captain Mackenzie, I'd rather have had my head above the hatches, now and then, anyhow."

"Be content," said Jack, laughing; "it might have been blown off, you know."

CHAPTER XIV.

MUTINY.

"To be a hero, stand or fall, Depends upon the man; Let all then in their duty stand, Each point of duty weigh, Remembering those can best command Who best know to obey."--DIBDIN.

It is terrible to think and to remember that about this time our country was in the greatest danger of being conquered and lost through mutiny.

Of all evils that can befall a navy this is surely the worst.

There was a mutinous spirit in the fleet of Sir John Jervis after the battle of St. Vincent, which the gallant knight used all his endeavours to quell. He was a brave and most energetic officer, and not only did he have the good of his country at heart, but he spared no effort to render those who served under him happy and comfortable. I do not refer to the officers only, but to the men as well. One would not be far wrong in saying that he knew almost every man in the fleet. He loved his people, and liked to have them happy, going among them, and even suggesting games and amus.e.m.e.nts. Those were the days of tossing cans, and of Sat.u.r.day nights at sea, and the drinking of the healths of wives and sweethearts. So long as the men kept sober, Jervis rather liked this, and was never better pleased than when, on the last evening of the week, he heard the voices of the men raised in song, or the squeaking of the merry fiddle and gleesome flute.

But Sir John would have discipline, etiquette, and dress.

Jack Mackenzie was never more honoured nor pleased than when he and M'Hearty were asked to dine with the admiral on board the flagship, the _Victory_. Sir John was jovial, nay, even jolly. Jack was shy, but he had to talk, and much to his own surprise soon found himself as much at home in the admiral's society as he would have been in that of his own father.

As for M'Hearty, nothing put that good fellow out, and at the admiral's request he gave a very graphic account indeed of his doings in the c.o.c.kpit on the day of the battle. Sir John laughed heartily when the doctor wound up seriously with the words, "But, dear Sir John, I _was_ thirsty."

To have seen this admiral to-night, no one would have believed that he had that day signed the death-warrant of the ringleader of the mutineers on board the _Marlborough_. But so it was, and to-morrow he should die.

It was on board the _Marlborough_ that the mutiny had found a hot-bed.

It was on board the _Marlborough_ that Sir John determined this man should be hanged, hoisted up by the hands of his own messmates, whom his seditious eloquence had seduced from duty's path.

It was a stern resolve. The captain of the _Marlborough_ had come on board to beg that the man might be executed in some other ship. His messmates, he averred, would never hang him, but would break at once out into open mutiny. This officer was dismissed to his ship with one of the severest reprimands ever administered to any captain in his majesty's service.

Down below, in a darksome cabin of the c.o.c.kpit of the _Victory_, Jack went to see an old shipmate of his, a boatswain who had been with him in the _Ocean Pride_. He was wounded, but recovering, and was delighted to have a visit from one he had known as a mere boy.

And not far from this gloomy cabin was the cell in which the unhappy man was confined who next morning early should pay the penalty for his insubordination. Jack just caught one glimpse of his gray unhappy face, in which his dark eyes gleamed like living coals. That face haunted him in his dreams throughout the livelong night.

He saw that face again next morning, as the man was being taken to the ship to be hanged _by his messmates_. The same gray, cadaverous hue, the same dark and stony stare. "Had he a wife," Jack wondered, "or a sister that loved and cared for him, or prattling children who would never see their sailor 'daddy' more?" Oh, the sadness of it!

The whole fleet witnessed that punishment from rigging and decks. Every precaution was taken to insure its being carried out. Captain Campbell of the _Blenheim_ superintended. Launches armed with carronades were ranged near the _Marlborough_, and the orders they had were to open fire at once upon the rebellious ship if the men refused obedience, or dared to open a port, and, if need be, to sink her with all hands, in presence of the fleet.

But see! the trembling wretch stands out upon the cat-head, the awful rope around his neck. The end is rove through a block in the fore-yard arm, and taken down and round the deck, so that every man may help to pull.

Bang! A great gun is fired from the flagship. The sound thrills through every heart, and every eye is turned towards the _Marlborough's_ cat-head. The rope trembles, is tightened, and finally--there is an end.

The mutiny is nipped in the bud, and the fleet is saved.

But thus it must ever be. Mutiny is a monster that must be crushed by the iron heel of force, ere yet it is fully hatched.

Jack was not sorry when all was over and the boats returned to their respective ships. To relieve his mind he went to see Murray. The poor boy smiled feebly, and held out his white worn hand to clasp that of Jack.

"I've been thinking of home, and my little sweetheart, sir."

"Have you a little sweetheart?"

"Yes; look!"

He took out a miniature from his breast--one of the sweetest young faces Jack had ever seen.

"That is why I don't want to die, sir."

Jack heaved a sigh. But after this all the spare time he had he pa.s.sed by the side of young Murray's cot. And now came the terrible bombardment of Cadiz.

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.