The Story of Nelson Part 2

"When I came home from the Baltic, I and others were landed at Yarmouth, and sent to the hospital. I was some time in getting well. I'll tell you what set me on my legs again. One day as I was lying on my bed in the crowded ward, thinking if I should ever recover, and be fit for sea again, the news came that a brig of war had entered the harbour with Lord Nelson on board. Would you believe it, I was thanking Heaven that our brave admiral had come back safe, and was in a half dreamy, dozing state, when I heard a cheer, and opening my eyes there he was himself going round from bed to bed, and talking to each of the men. He knew me at once, and told me that I must make haste and get well and join his ship, as it wouldn't be long probably before he again hoisted his flag.

"'You shall have any rating you like, remember that,' said he, taking my hand. 'We must have medals and prize-money for you; you have gallantly won them, all of you.'

"He pa.s.sed on, for he had a kind word to say to many hundred poor fellows that day. When I got well I went home for a spell; but before long I heard that Lord Nelson had hoisted his flag as commander-in-chief of the channel squadron on board the 'Medusa' frigate. I went on board, and the admiral instantly rated me as quartermaster. We had plenty of work before us, for General Bonaparte, who was now Emperor of France, wanted to come and invade England. He had got a flotilla of gunboats all ready to carry over his army, and he had a large fleet besides.

Many people thought he would succeed. We knew that the wooden walls of old England were her best defence, and so we afloat never believed that a French soldier would ever set foot on our sh.o.r.es.

"They had, however, a large flotilla in Boulogne harbour, and it was determined to destroy it with the boats of the squadron. I volunteered for one of our boats. The boats were in three divisions. We left the ships a little before midnight. It was very dark, and the divisions got separated. We knew that it was desperate work we were on. Ours was the only division which reached the harbour. There were batteries defending the place, and troops on the sh.o.r.e, and soldiers on board the flotilla, and the outer vessels were guarded with iron spikes, and had boarding nets triced up, and were lashed together. In we darted. It was desperate work, and the fire of the great guns and musketry soon showed our enemies to us, and us to them.

"'Just keep off, you brave Englishmen, you can do nothing here,' sung out a French officer in very plain English.

"'We'll try that!' was our reply, as we dashed on board, in spite of iron spikes and boarding nettings. On we went; we cut out several of the vessels, and were making off with them with loads of Frenchmen on board, when, would you believe it, if the enemy didn't open their fire on the boats, killing their own people as well as us. To my mind, those French, in war, are as bad as cannibals--that's what Lord Nelson always said of them. If it hadn't been for this we should have burned or captured most of them. While I was just springing on board another vessel, among the flashes from the guns, the flames and smoke, the hissing and rattling shot, I got a knock on my head which sent me back into the bottom of the boat. I knew nothing more till I found myself on board my own ship, and heard that we had lost some hundred and seventy poor fellows. I was sent to the hospital, where one of our gallant leaders, Captain Parker, died of his wounds.

"The next ship I found myself on board was the 'Victory.' There wasn't a finer ship in the navy, more weatherly or more handy--steered like a duck, and worked like a top. Lord Nelson himself got me appointed to her. Away we sailed for the Mediterranean. While Admiral Cornwallis watched the French fleet at Brest, we kept a look-out over that at Toulon under the command of Admiral La Touche Treville, who had commanded at Boulogne, and boasted that he had beat off Lord Nelson from that port. He could not boast, though, that he beat him off from Toulon; for, for eighteen long months, from the 1st of July, 1803, to the 11th of January, 1805, did we keep watch off that harbour's mouth.

If such a gale sprung up as would prevent the French getting out, we went away, only leaving a frigate or so to watch what took place; but we were soon to be back again. Thus the time pa.s.sed on. We saw the sh.o.r.e, but were not the better for it; for few of us, from the admiral downwards, ever set on it. At last the French admiral, La Touche Treville, died, and a new one, Admiral Villeneuve, was appointed. We now began to hope that the French would come out and fight as; for you see Lord Nelson did not want to keep them in--only to get at them when they came out. If it hadn't been for the batteries on sh.o.r.e, we should have gone in and brought them out. We had gone away to the coast of Sardinia, when news was brought that the French fleet was at sea.

Instantly we got under weigh, pa.s.sing at night through a pa.s.sage so narrow that only one ship could pa.s.s at a time, and fully expecting the next morning to be engaged with the enemy. First we looked for them about Sicily; then after them we ran towards Egypt, and then back to Malta, where we heard that they had put into Toulon. Now, we kept stricter watch than ever, without a bulkhead up, and all ready for battle.

"It was on the 4th of April, that the 'Phoebe' brought us news that Admiral Villeneuve, with his squadron, had again slipped out of Toulon, and was steering for the coast of Africa. Frigates were sent out in every direction, to make sure that he had not gone eastward; and then after him we stood, towards the Straits of Gibraltar, but the wind was dead against us, and we had hard work to get there. I had never seen the admiral in such a taking before. We beat backwards and forwards against the head-wind, but all to no purpose--out of the Gut we could not get without a leading-wind, and so we had to anchor off the Barbary coast; there we got supplies.

"At last, on the 5th of May, an easterly breeze sprung up, and away we went, with a flowing sheet, through the Straits. We called off Cadiz, and the coast of Portugal, and then bore away for the West Indies, where we heard the French had gone. We sighted Madeira, and made Barbadoes, then sailed for Tobago; and next we were off for the Gulf of Paria, all cleared for action, making sure that we should find the enemy there. We thought it would have killed the admiral when he found that he had been deceived. Back we sailed, and heard that the French had captured the Diamond Rock. You've heard about it. It's a curious place, and was commissioned like a man-of-war. If it hadn't been for false information, and if Lord Nelson had stuck to his own intentions, we should have caught the French up off Port Royal, and thrashed them just at the spot Lord Rodney thrashed Admiral de Gra.s.se--so I've heard say.

Well, at last, we found that the French had left the West Indies for Europe, so back across the Atlantic we steered; but though we knew we were close astern of them, they kept ahead of us, and at last we sighted Cape Spartel, and anch.o.r.ed the next day at Gibraltar.

"I know it for a fact, that it only wanted ten days of two years since Lord Nelson himself had last set his foot on sh.o.r.e. It was much longer than that since I and most on board had trod dry ground. That was serving our country, you'll allow--most of the time, too, under weigh, battling with tempests, and broiling under the sun of the tropics.

"We victualled and watered at Tetuan, then once more stood to the west'ard--then back to Cadiz, and once more crossed the Bay of Biscay, thinking the enemy were bound for Ireland. Foul winds made the pa.s.sage long. Once more the enemy had baffled us, and at last, when off Ushant, we received orders to return to Portsmouth to refit.

"That very fleet Sir Robert Calder fell in with on the 22nd of July, just thirty leagues westward of Cape Finisterre, and, although his force was much smaller, he captured two of their line-of-battle ships. It was a very gallant affair; but people asked, 'What would Nelson have done?'

While the admiral was on sh.o.r.e we were busily employed in refitting the 'Victory,' while a number of other ships he had wished to have with him were got ready for sea. On the 14th of September he once more came aboard the 'Victory,' and hoisted his flag. The next day, we sailed for Cadiz. We arrived off that place on the 29th, where we found the squadron of Admiral Collingwood blockading the French and Spanish fleets under Admiral Villeneuve.

"What Lord Nelson wanted, you see, was to get the enemy out to fight him. He wanted also, not only to win a victory, but to knock the enemy's ships to pieces, so that they could do no more harm. To get them out we had to cut off their supplies; so we had to capture all the neutral vessels which were carrying them in. You must understand we in the 'Victory' with the fleet did not go close into Cadiz, but kept some fifty or sixty miles off so that the enemy might not know our strength.

We had some time to wait, however. Lord Nelson had already given the French and Spaniards such a taste of his way of going to work, that they were in no hurry to try it again. You'll understand that there was a line of frigates, extending, like signal-posts, all the way from the fleet to the frigate cruising just off the mouth of the harbour--that is to say, near enough to watch what was going on there.

"Early in the morning on the 19th of October, the 'Mars,' the ship nearest the chain of frigates, repeated the signal that the enemy were leaving port, and, at two p.m., that they were steering S.E. On this Lord Nelson gave orders for the fleet to chase in that direction, but to keep out of sight of the enemy, fearful of frightening them back into port. Still, you'll understand, the frigates kept in sight of them, and gave notice to the admiral of all their movements. The enemy had thirty-three sail of the line, and seven frigates, with above 4000 riflemen on board. Our fleet numbered only twenty-seven sail of the line, and four frigates. We were formed in two lines. Admiral Collingwood, in the 'Royal Sovereign,' led fourteen ships, and Lord Nelson, in the 'Victory,' eleven.

"On the morning of the 21st of October, 1805--you'll not forget that day, it was a glorious one for England, let me tell you--we sighted the French and Spanish fleet from the deck of the 'Victory' off Cape Trafalgar. They were formed in a double line in a curve, one ship in the further line filling up the s.p.a.ce left between the ships of the nearest line. They also were trying to keep the port of Cadiz under their lee, that they might escape to it. Lord Nelson determined to break the line in two places. We led the northern line with a light wind from the south-west. Admiral Collingwood led the southern, and got into action first, just astern of the 'Santa Anna.' We steered so as to pa.s.s between the 'Bucentaur' and the 'Santissima Trinidade.'

"'Well, there are a lot of the enemy,' exclaimed Tom Collins to me, as I was standing near the gun he served.

"'Yes, mate,' said I; 'and a pretty spectacle they will make at Spithead when we carry them there.'

"'Ay, that they will,' cried all who heard me, and I believe every man in the fleet felt as we did.

"We were watching all this time the magnificent way in which the brave and good Admiral Collingwood stood into action and opened his fire.

That was about noon. There was a general cheer on board our ship and all the ships of the fleet. At our masthead flew a signal. We soon knew what it meant. It was--'England expects that every man will do his duty.' For nearly half an hour the n.o.ble Collingwood was alone among the ships of the enemy before any of his followers could come up. We, at the same time, had got within long range of the enemy. On we floated slowly, for the wind was very light, till at last our mainyard-arm was touching the gaff of the 'Bucentaur,' which ship bore the flag of Admiral Villeneuve; and though our guns were raking her and tearing her stern to pieces, we had ahead of us in the second line the 'Neptune,'

which poured a heavy fire into our bows. Our helm was then put up, and we fell aboard the 'Redoubtable,' while the 'Temeraire,' Captain Blackwood, ranged up on the other side of her, and another French ship got alongside the 'Temeraire.' There we were all four locked together, pounding away at each other, while with our larboard guns we were engaging the 'Bucentaur,' and now and then getting a shot at the big Spaniard, the 'Santissima Trinidade.' Meantime our other ships had each picked out one or more of the enemy, and were hotly engaged with them.

At the tops of all the enemy's ships marksmen were stationed. The skylight of the admiral's cabin had been boarded over. Here Lord Nelson and Captain Hardy were walking. More than one man had fallen near them.

Mr Scott, the admiral's secretary, had been struck down after we had been in action little more than an hour. Suddenly as I turned my head I saw a sight which I would rather have died than have seen. Lord Nelson was just falling. He went on his knees, then rested on his arm for a moment, and it, too, giving way, he rolled over on his left side, before even Captain Hardy could run to save him. Captain Hardy had to remain on deck. I, with a sergeant of marines and another seaman, carried him below, covering his face with a handkerchief. We placed him in one of the midshipmen's berths. Then the surgeons came to him. We feared the worst, but it was not generally known what had happened. I can tell you I was glad enough to get on deck again. It was bad enough there to see poor fellows struck down alongside me, but the sights and sounds in the c.o.c.kpit were enough to overcome the stoutest heart--to see fine strong fellows mangled and torn, struggling in their agony--to watch limb after limb cut off--to hear their groans and shrieks, and often worse, the oaths and imprecations of the poor fellows maddened by the terrible pain; and there lay our beloved chief mortally wounded in the spine, parched with thirst and heat, crying out for air and drink to cool the fever raging within. For two hours and a half there he lay suffering dreadful pain, yet eagerly inquiring how the battle was going. Twice Captain Hardy went below to see him; the first time to tell him that twelve of the enemy had struck; the last time that still more had given in, and that a few were in full flight, after whom our guns were still sending their shot. Thus Lord Nelson died at the moment the ever-to-be-remembered battle of Trafalgar was won.

"It was a sad voyage we had home, and great was the sorrow felt by all, from the highest to the lowest in the land, for the death of our beloved leader. I will not describe his funeral. It was very grand, that I know. Many of the old 'Victory's' attended his coffin to his grave in Saint Paul's Cathedral. When they were lowering his flag into the tomb--that flag which had truly so long and so gloriously waved in the battle and the breeze--we seized on it and tearing it in pieces, vowed to keep it as long as we lived, in remembrance of our n.o.ble chief. Here is my bit--see, I keep it safe in this case near my heart."

England's greatest military chief now lies by the side of one who had no equal on the ocean, in the heart of her metropolis. Within the walls of her finest cathedral, what more appropriate mausoleum could be found for Britain's two most valiant defenders, Heaven-sent surely in the time of her greatest need to defend her from the hosts of her vaunting foes.

VOLUME TWO, CHAPTER ONE.

THE GRATEFUL INDIAN.

We cannot boast of many fine evenings in old England--dear old England for all that!--and when they do come they are truly lovely and worthy of being prized the more. It was on one of the finest of a fine summer that Mr Frampton, the owner of a beautiful estate in Devonshire, was seated on a rustic bench in his garden, his son Harry, who stood at his knee, looking up inquiringly into his face.

"Father," said Harry, "I have often heard you speak about the North American Indians--the Red men of the deserts. Do tell me how it is that you know so much about them--have you ever been in their country?"

"Yes, my boy; I pa.s.sed several of the earlier years of my life in that part of North America which may truly be said to belong as yet to the red men, though as there are but some fifty thousand scattered over the whole central portion of it, it must be acknowledged that they do not make the best possible use of the territory they inhabit. A glance at the map of North America will show you where the Red River is, with its settlement founded by Lord Selkirk. I was very young when I went there with my father, my elder brother Malcolm, and John Dawes, a faithful servant who had been brought up in the family from childhood. John was a great sportsman, a most kind-hearted fellow, and could turn his hand to anything. We went through Canada to Lake Superior, and from thence it took us, by a chain of lakes and rivers, about twenty-five days to reach the banks of the Red River, I need not describe how we selected our ground, built a cottage, ploughed a field, and stocked our farm; we will suppose all these preliminaries over and our party permanently settled in our new home. I must tell you before I proceed a little about the Indians of this region."

VOLUME TWO, CHAPTER TWO.

There are different tribes. Some are called Crees, others Ojibways or Salteux, and these are constantly at war with the Sioux to the south, chiefly found across the United States boundary. There are also found on the prairies a.s.siniboines, Blackfeet, Bloodies, and others with scarcely more attractive names. All these people were at that time sunk in the most abject state of heathenism, and were constantly at war with each other. They were clothed chiefly in skins made into leather, ornamented with feathers and stained gra.s.s and beads. The tents of the prairie Indians were of skins, and those of the Indians who inhabit the woods of birch bark. Many had rifles, but others were armed only with bows and spears, and the dreadful scalping-knife. Of these people the Sioux bore the worst character, and were the great enemies of the half-bred population of the settlements. These halfbreds, as they are called, are descended from white fathers and Indian mothers. There are some thousands of them in the settlements, and they live chiefly by hunting and fishing, and retain many Indian customs and habits of life.

Such was the strangely mixed community among whom we found ourselves.

The autumn was coming on, and the days were shortening, but the weather was very fine--sharp frosts at night, though warm enough, yet bracing, with a bright sky and pure atmosphere during the day. Sometimes a light silvery mist or haze hung over the landscape. Such is the Indian summer, the most delightful period of the year in North America.

The day's work was over, and while my brother and I were preparing the table, and Sam Dawes was cooking the supper, we were startled by a loud and peculiar shout, or rather shriek. Our father, who had been sitting reading, started up, and taking his rifle from the wall, turned to the door. Sam, quitting his frying-pan, also took down his rifle and followed with us. In the distance was an Indian decked with war paint and feathers bounding over the ground towards us, while further off were five or six more, as if in hot pursuit of the first.

"That first fellow is an Ojibway by his adornments, and a young man by the way he runs," observed Sam. "He's seeking protection here, that's poz."

"And he shall enjoy it, though we should have to fight for him,"

observed my father warmly. "We must teach the Red men that we always protect those in distress."

The fugitive came on at great speed. He was flying for his life. His pursuers, however, were gaining on him. They had fire-arms in their hands, but did not use them.

"They have exhausted their powder," observed my father. "That is fortunate."

The young Indian was within fifty yards of us. We could see the gleam of the scalping knives which his foes had drawn, thirsting for his blood. He bounded on up to the door of the hut and fell exhausted within. Then for the first time his pursuers perceived that we stood armed at the entrance. Guessing truly that we possessed plenty of ammunition, and two or more of their number might fall if they attempted to advance, they paused, casting glances of disappointed vengeance to wards their victim, who lay unconscious behind us. Our father told Malcolm and me to take him in and to try and revive him. We did so, and when we had moistened his lips with water he quickly revived. Springing up he seized Malcolm's gun and hurried to the door. The other Indians had not moved. On seeing him, however, they instantly darted behind some trunks of trees for shelter, and then we saw them darting away till they got beyond range of our fire-arms. The young Indian would have followed, but my father restrained him, and gave him to understand that though he had saved his life he had no intention of allowing him to take the lives of others. Darkness was coming on, and we soon lost sight of the band. Having closed our door with more than usual care, we placed food before our guest, of which he eagerly partook, and then told us that his name was Sigenok; that he with others of his tribe had been out hunting, and had been surprised by a war party of Sioux, who had taken the scalps of all the rest. He had wandered away unarmed from the camp when he saw all his companions killed. To revenge them, which the Indian thought was his first duty, was then impossible, so he took to flight, hoping to retaliate on another occasion. His wary foes, however, discovered his trail and followed. He had caught sight of them when they were not aware of it, and redoubled his speed, making for the settlements. He gave us to understand that he could not have continued his flight many more hours, and that he was very grateful to us for preserving his life. We had brought a dog from England, and we had lately got another, both very sagacious animals, and so we stationed them outside the hut at a little distance to give us due notice should the Sioux return.

Sigenok, as soon as he had satisfied his hunger, praying his confidence in us, laid himself down in a corner of the room and was immediately fast asleep. He spent two days with us to recover his strength, which had been greatly tried, and then set off to carry to his tribe the sad tidings of the loss of their friends. For an Indian he was a good-looking young man, and decked with his war paint and feathers he had a picturesquely savage appearance.

VOLUME TWO, CHAPTER THREE.

The winter came--we did not feel the cold so much as we expected--it pa.s.sed on and spring approached. We were looking forward to the pleasures of summer and to a buffalo hunt which we had promised ourselves, when, after finding the heat unusually great at night, on rising in the morning, loud cracks in the ice were heard, and we discovered that a thaw had commenced. We were surprised at the rapidity with which the snow melted, and the low shrubs and the green gra.s.s appeared, and long dormant Nature seemed to be waking up to life. "How jolly," exclaimed Malcolm; "we shall soon be able to paddle about in our canoe; we may as well have a look at her to see that she is in order."

We had a supply of gum with which to cover up the seams as the Indians do, and our canoe was soon fit for launching.

"We must look to the plough and our spades," remarked our father; "we shall speedily be able to get in our seeds."