diff options
| author | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-04-28 09:21:03 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-04-28 09:21:03 -0700 |
| commit | 5eb8a2d0fb9ea420dab7d69c6182ed1cd56ecd66 (patch) | |
| tree | 147c704dfe0598be64fb2b753f93e8c13f2b5661 /75979-h | |
Diffstat (limited to '75979-h')
| -rw-r--r-- | 75979-h/75979-h.htm | 17811 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 75979-h/images/img-022.jpg | bin | 0 -> 301827 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 75979-h/images/img-076.jpg | bin | 0 -> 292845 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 75979-h/images/img-134.jpg | bin | 0 -> 282419 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 75979-h/images/img-212.jpg | bin | 0 -> 304376 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 75979-h/images/img-270.jpg | bin | 0 -> 305545 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 75979-h/images/img-309.jpg | bin | 0 -> 170448 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 75979-h/images/img-320.jpg | bin | 0 -> 282525 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 75979-h/images/img-358.jpg | bin | 0 -> 280460 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 75979-h/images/img-cover.jpg | bin | 0 -> 272666 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 75979-h/images/img-front.jpg | bin | 0 -> 309251 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 75979-h/images/img-title.jpg | bin | 0 -> 214846 bytes |
12 files changed, 17811 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/75979-h/75979-h.htm b/75979-h/75979-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..04b5bbe --- /dev/null +++ b/75979-h/75979-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,17811 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> + +<head> + +<link rel="icon" href="images/img-cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + +<meta charset="utf-8"> + +<title> +The Project Gutenberg eBook of Hearts of Oak, by Gordon Stables +</title> + +<style> +body { color: black; + background: white; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; + text-align: justify } + +p {text-indent: 1.5em } + +p.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + +p.t1 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 200%; + text-align: center } + +p.t2 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 150%; + text-align: center } + +p.t2b {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 150%; + font-weight: bold; + text-align: center } + +p.t3 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 100%; + text-align: center } + +p.t3b {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 100%; + font-weight: bold; + text-align: center } + +p.t4 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 80%; + text-align: center } + +p.t4b {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 80%; + font-weight: bold; + text-align: center } + +p.t5 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 60%; + text-align: center } + +h1 { text-align: center } +h2 { text-align: center } +h3 { text-align: center } +h4 { text-align: center } +h5 { text-align: center } + +p.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; } + +p.poem2 {text-indent: 0%; + font-size: 85%; + margin-left: 10%; } + +p.thought {text-indent: 0% ; + letter-spacing: 2em ; + text-align: center } + +p.letter {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +p.footnote {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 80%; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +.smcap { font-variant: small-caps } + +p.transnote {text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +p.intro {font-size: 90% ; + text-indent: -5% ; + margin-left: 5% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +p.quote {text-indent: 4% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +pre { font-family: "Courier", serif; + font-size: 10pt } + +p.finis { font-size: larger ; + text-align: center ; + text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +p.capcenter { margin-left: 0; + margin-right: 0 ; + margin-bottom: .5% ; + margin-top: 0; + font-weight: normal; + float: none ; + clear: both ; + text-indent: 0%; + text-align: center } + +img.imgcenter { margin-left: auto; + margin-bottom: 0; + margin-top: 1%; + margin-right: auto; } + +</style> + +</head> + +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75979 ***</div> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="capcenter"> +<a id="img-cover"></a> +<br> +<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-cover.jpg" alt="Cover art"> +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="capcenter"> +<a id="img-front"></a> +<br> +<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-front.jpg" alt=""Nelson is struck by a grapeshot and falls bleeding into the boat." <i>p</i> 244."> +<br> +"Nelson is struck by a grapeshot and falls bleeding into the boat." <a href="#p244"><i>p</i> 244</a>. +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="capcenter"> +<a id="img-title"></a> +<br> +<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-title.jpg" alt="Title page"> +</p> + +<h1> +<br><br> + <i>Hearts of Oak.</i><br> +</h1> + +<p class="t3"> + A STORY OF<br> +</p> + +<p class="t3b"> + Nelson and the Navy.<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> + By<br> +</p> + +<p class="t3"> + GORDON STABLES, M.D., C.M.<br> + (<i>Surgeon Royal Navy</i>),<br> +</p> + +<p class="t4"> + AUTHOR OF "FROM SQUIRE TO SQUATTER;"<br> + "IN THE DASHING DAYS OF OLD;" "EXILES OF FORTUNE;"<br> + "ENGLAND, HOME, AND BEAUTY;"<br> + ETC. ETC.<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="poem"> + "'Hearts of oak!' our captain cried; when each gun<br> + From its adamantine lips<br> + Spread a death-shade round the ships<br> + Like the hurricane eclipse<br> + Of the sun." CAMPBELL.<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t4"> + NEW EDITION.<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> + <i>LONDON:</i><br> + JOHN F. SHAW AND CO.,<br> + 48, PATERNOSTER ROW, E.C.<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> + UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME.<br> +</p> + +<pre> + HEARTS OF OAK . . . . . . . . . . . . . . By Dr. GORDON-STABLES. + FOR ENGLAND, HOME, AND BEAUTY . . . . . . Dr. GORDON-STABLES. + EXILES OF FORTUNE . . . . . . . . . . . . Dr. GORDON-STABLES. + IN SEARCH OF FORTUNE . . . . . . . . . . Dr. GORDON-STABLES. + TWO SAILOR LADS . . . . . . . . . . . . . Dr. GORDON-STABLES. + IN THE DASHING DAYS OF OLD . . . . . . . Dr. GORDON-STABLES. + FACING FEARFUL ODDS . . . . . . . . . . . Dr. GORDON-STABLES. + GRAHAM'S VICTORY . . . . . . . . . . . . G. STEBBING. + THE TWO CASTAWAYS . . . . . . . . . . . . LADY F. DIXIE. + HONOURS DIVIDED . . . . . . . . . . . . . W. C. METCALFE. + ON TO THE RESCUE . . . . . . . . . . . . Dr. GORDON-STABLES. + BEL-MARJORY. A Tale of Conquest . . . . L. T. MEADE. + EUSTACE MARCHMONT . . . . . . . . . . . . E. EVERETT-GREEN. + A TRUE GENTLEWOMAN . . . . . . . . . . . EMMA MARSHALL. + THE END CROWNS ALL. A Story of Life . . EMMA MARSHALL. + BISHOP'S CRANWORTH . . . . . . . . . . . EMMA MARSHALL. + FIGHTING FOR FREEDOM . . . . . . . . . . ANDREW REED. + CITY SNOWDROPS . . . . . . . . . . . . . M. E. WINCHESTER. + COUNTESS MAUD . . . . . . . . . . . . . . EMILY S. HOLT. + HER HUSBAND'S HOME. A Tale . . . . . . . E. EVERETT-GREEN. + IDA VANE. A Tale of the Restoration . . ANDREW REED. + ONE SNOWY NIGHT . . . . . . . . . . . . . EMILY S. HOLT. + FOR HONOUR NOT HONOURS . . . . . . . . . Dr. GORDON-STABLES. + WINNING AN EMPIRE . . . . . . . . . . . . G. STEBBING. + A REAL HERO . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . G. STEBBING. + A TANGLED WEB . . . . . . . . . . . . . . EMILY S. HOLT. + DOROTHY'S STORY . . . . . . . . . . . . . L. T. MEADE. + BEATING THE RECORD . . . . . . . . . . . G. STEBBING. + BRITAIN'S QUEEN . . . . . . . . . . . . . T. PAUL. + THE FOSTER-SISTERS . . . . . . . . . . . L. E. GUERNSEY. + A KNIGHT OF TO-DAY . . . . . . . . . . . L. T. MEADE. + NEVER GIVE IN . . . . . . . . . . . . . . G. STEBBING. + EDGAR NELTHORPE . . . . . . . . . . . . . ANDREW REED. + MARION SCATTERTHWAITE . . . . . . . . . . M. SYMINGTON. +</pre> + +<p class="t3"> + LONDON: JOHN F. SHAW & CO., 48, PATERNOSTER ROW, E.C. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> +PREFACE. +</p> + +<p> +I have no need, I trust, to apologise for +the introduction of the name and chief +exploits of so great a naval hero as +Horatio Nelson into this story of sea +life. It is due to my readers as well as +myself, however, to state that it <i>is</i> a tale of the +sea, and not intended as a life of Nelson. Nevertheless +I have endeavoured throughout to paint his character +to the life by a series of <i>tableaux vivants</i>, which I +humbly hope will not be found altogether ineffective. +</p> + +<p> +With the exception of the calm and peaceful days +that Nelson spent at the old parsonage of Burnham-Thorpe, +I have dealt <i>solely</i> with his doings and deeds +afloat, and from the time he joined the grand old +service until the day of his death on board the <i>Victory</i> +the sword is seldom out of his hand. My Nelson is +Nelson on the quarter-deck. With Nelson at Court, +whether at home or abroad, I have nothing whatever +to say. The young fellows for whom I write, I know +well, infinitely prefer the sailor's cutlass to a lady's +fan. +</p> + +<p> +And Nelson is notably a boy's hero; so good, so +gentle, and yet withal so brave! And never during +all his career was his mind so overwhelmed with his +own cares on shipboard, as to preclude him from +interesting himself in what pertained to his junior +officers, with a tenderness too that was almost fatherly. +Another trait in his character that must cause every +true boy to look upon Nelson as a hero, was his love +of duty and justice. +</p> + +<p> +Says Alison, "He was gifted too by nature with +undaunted courage, with indomitable resolution, and +undecaying energy. He possessed also the eagle +glance, the quick determination, and coolness in danger, +that constitute the rarest qualities in a consummate +commander." +</p> + +<p> +I pray heaven that in our next naval war—and it +cannot be very long ere this rages over the seas—our +country may be in possession of a few admirals who +shall emulate the dash and <i>elan</i> of our great and +mighty Nelson. +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * * +</p> + +<p> +Descending to my lesser heroes, young Lord Raventree, +and Tom Bure, they are neither greater nor less +than any true-hearted British boy may be, who has +the honour to draw dirk or sword in the dashing days +of warfare which most assuredly are before us. +</p> + +<p> +Descending to still humbler heroes, it will do the +reader no harm to know that poor Uncle Bob, and his +honest and gentle old brother Dan, have had their +counterparts in real life. +</p> + +<p> +So, too, has the faithful collie dog Meg, with all her +gentle, winning ways, who so cheered the last sad days +of her helpless invalid master. +</p> + +<p> +May we not love even a dog for the possession of +virtues higher far than many mortals can lay claim to? +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +GORDON STABLES. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> + TWYFORD, BERKS,<br> + <i>March, 1892.</i><br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> +Dedication. +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t4"> +TO +</p> + +<p class="t3"> +FRANK SMITH, ESQ., +</p> + +<p class="t4"> +JOURNALIST, ETC., +</p> + +<p class="t4"> +A FRIEND WHOM I HAVE NEVER YET SEEN, +</p> + +<p class="t4"> +BUT WHO SO VERY OFTEN +</p> + +<p class="t4"> +CHEERS ME WITH BRIGHT AND WITTY LETTERS, +</p> + +<p class="t3"> +Himself a Heart of Oak, +</p> + +<p class="t4"> +THIS BOOK +</p> + +<p class="t4"> +IS DEDICATED WITH EVERY KINDLY WISH +</p> + +<p class="t4"> +BY +</p> + +<p class="t3"> +THE AUTHOR. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3b"> + CONTENTS.<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> + Book I.<br> +</p> + +<p class="t3"> + <i>IN PEACE AND AT HOME.</i><br> +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> + CHAPTER<br> +</p> + +<p class="noindent" style="line-height: 1.5"> + I. <a href="#chap0101">Poor Uncle Bob</a><br> + II. <a href="#chap0102">The Wreck on the Gorton Sands</a><br> + III. <a href="#chap0103">"I see it all," He said; "I see it all"</a><br> + IV. <a href="#chap0104">Uncle Bob tells Tom's story</a><br> + V. <a href="#chap0105">A Mountain Wave comes swelling o'er the Sands</a><br> + VI. <a href="#chap0106">Summer Morning on a Norfolk Broad</a><br> + VII. <a href="#chap0107">The Launch of the "Queen of the Broads"</a><br> + VIII. <a href="#chap0108">"Stay at Home, my Lad, and plant Cabbages"</a><br> + IX. <a href="#chap0109">Horatio Nelson's Earlier Days</a><br> + X. <a href="#chap0110">"I will be a Hero, and trusting to Providence brave every Danger"</a><br> + XI. <a href="#chap0111">"There's a Storm brewing, and you'll be in it, Tom"</a><br> + XII. <a href="#chap0112">"Dan will ne'er be Dan again," they said</a><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> + Book II<br> +</p> + +<p class="t3"> + <i>WILD WAR'S BLAST.</i><br> +</p> + +<p class="noindent" style="line-height: 1.5"> + I. <a href="#chap0201">Tom's Baptism of Blood</a><br> + II. <a href="#chap0202">How Tom Bure joined the Service</a><br> + III. <a href="#chap0203">In the Gunroom Mess—The Great War Game</a><br> + IV. <a href="#chap0204">Were there really Tears in Nelson's Eyes?</a><br> + V. <a href="#chap0205">The glorious old "Agamemnon"</a><br> + VI. <a href="#chap0206">A Duel to the Death</a><br> + VII. <a href="#chap0207">The Battle of St. Vincent</a><br> + VIII. <a href="#chap0208">Life in Nelson's Ship</a><br> + IX. <a href="#chap0209">Bombarding Cadiz—A madcap Expedition</a><br> + X. <a href="#chap0210">A Dark Night's Work</a><br> + XI. <a href="#chap0211">A Happy Home-coming</a><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> + Book III.<br> +</p> + +<p class="t3"> + <i>IN HONOUR'S CAUSE.</i><br> +</p> + +<p class="noindent" style="line-height: 1.5"> + I. <a href="#chap0301">A Gipsy's Warning</a><br> + II. <a href="#chap0302">The Fight on Blackmuir Marsh</a><br> + III. <a href="#chap0303">"Volunteers" for the Navy—The Burning of the "Highflyer"</a><br> + IV. <a href="#chap0304">The Search for the French Fleet—At Last</a><br> + V. <a href="#chap0305">The Battle of the Nile—Horrors of the Cockpit—Nelson Wounded</a><br> + VI. <a href="#chap0306">The Burning of the "Orient"—A Heart of Oak</a><br> + VII. <a href="#chap0307">Face to Face with the Danish Ships</a><br> + VIII. <a href="#chap0308">A "Glorious Day's Renown"</a><br> + IX. <a href="#chap0309">Nelson's Last Days and Hours</a><br> + X. <a href="#chap0310">"Jack, I Feel there is Something Wanting in my Life"</a><br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap0101"></a></p> + +<p class="t2"> +HEARTS OF OAK +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<h2> +Book I. +</h2> + +<p><br></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER I. +<br><br> +POOR UNCLE BOB! +</h3> + +<p class="poem2"> + "Happy Britain! matchless isle,<br> + Whose natives, like the sturdy oak,<br> + Secure in inborn force, may smile<br> + And mock the tempest's heaviest stroke.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem2"> + "If roused in war, shall dreadful move<br> + Britannia's vengeance on her foes; to prove,<br> + Where'er again her banners are unfurled,<br> + The dread and envy of the wond'ring world."—DIBDIN.<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +"I wonder what makes Tom so late?" +said Uncle Bob to himself, as he opened +his eyes and looked around him. "Why," +he added, "it is precious nearly three +bells in the second dog-watch, as sure +as I'm a living sailor. Living! Well, +there isn't a deal of life about me, for the matter of +that; but I'm right about the time. The shadow of +yonder poplar tree just touches my toes at four bells, +and it doesn't want a yard of doing so now. I must +have been dozing a bit, too. It is a drowsy kind of +an evening anyhow. But it was that blackbird in the +cherry-tree that set me off, and maybe the hum o' the +bees round their hives yonder, and the whispering +of the wind in the old cedar must have helped a bit. +Heigho!" +</p> + +<p> +Poor Uncle Bob yawned a little, then listened. +</p> + +<p> +"Made sure I heard Tom singing just then," continued +the invalid half aloud, "but I dare say it was +the sea-gulls. They're coming inland to-night, and I'm +no seaman if it doesn't blow big guns before morning." +</p> + +<p> +Uncle Bob talked to himself for the best of reasons: +there was no one else to talk to. For little Ruth, his +niece, was helping her mother in the house, and Daniel, +his brother, had gone to the Hall with a boat. No +chance of Dan being home early to-night, for the boat +required the heaviest cart for its conveyance, and the +mare had gone a bit lame lately. +</p> + +<p> +To have looked at Uncle Bob's face as he lay there +in his cot, which had been wheeled out under the +shade of the trees on the daisied grass, no one would +have taken him for an invalid. His rather handsome +face, with its short brown beard and well-chiselled +features was placid and contented, nay, even happy +and hopeful-looking. +</p> + +<p> +O, yes, Uncle Bob had not ceased to hope. For +seven long years and over, day after day, whenever the +sun shone, or it was dry weather, that cot upon wheels +had been hauled out of doors, where it is now in this +sweet May evening, by the sturdy and kindly hands of +Brother Dan. Yet if the boat-shed close by had taken +fire, poor Uncle Bob could not have lifted hand or foot +to save himself from destruction. The paralysis from +which this seaman suffered had been accidental. It +was this, probably, that gave him hopefulness and made +his sad life in a measure bearable. And in certain +states of the weather, strange to say, Uncle Bob could +move his fingers. +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Downs used to call as he passed by to talk with +him for a few minutes, and never failed to tell Uncle +Bob that as he wasn't an old man by any means, time +might work wonders. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Curtiss, the curate, a kindly-hearted young fellow +from Yorkshire, often dropped round, and would sit and +talk to the invalid for a whole hour at a time. Nor +did he ever leave without some words of consolation +that, to say the least, were well-meant. Bob had very +much to be thankful for, the curate would say; he +wasn't in pain of any sort; he had his appetite and +the use of his eyes and ears, and everybody loved him +and was good to him. +</p> + +<p> +Uncle Bob being a sailor, the curate thought it was +his duty to always introduce an allegorical ship of +some kind in his conversation with the stricken mariner. +Besides, wasn't Mr. Curtiss himself somewhat of an +authority on nautical matters? Hadn't he been down +to the sea in ships—well no, not quite that, but he had +made one long and dangerous voyage from Great +Yarmouth to London in a herring yawl, which enabled +him to talk with some degree of confidence about "green +seas," "contrary winds," "luff tackle, main sheets and +shrouds," and all the rest of it. Mr. Curtiss meant +well therefore, and he never left the invalid without +leaving him something nice to think about, without, in +fact, leaving him better in mind, if not in body, than +he had found him. But after all said and done it isn't +everyone who could have lain in a cot all these years +so peacefully as Uncle Bob had done. +</p> + +<p> +Brother Dan, you must know, reader, was a +boat-builder—not of pair-oared gigs or outriggers, or any +of the beautiful dashing boats you see on the Thames +and other rivers—Dan's speciality was cobbles, or good, +honest, strongly-built, broad-beamed boats, on which +you could float on the lovely waters of the Norfolk +lakes, and at times step a mast and hoist a bit of sail, +without much danger of turning turtle, so long as you +sat to windward. Ay, and you might venture a long +way out to sea too in one of Dan's boats, and if you +kept your weather eye lifting now and then, and your +hand on the main sheet, you could crack on very +prettily indeed through a lumpy sea-way. +</p> + +<p> +And Brother Dan's house was just over the way +yonder, across a little rustic private bridge that brought +you here to this half lawn, half paddock, but wholly +pleasant and tree-shaded spot, where Bob's cot was +safely moored under the shade of the cedar. After you +passed the bridge you had to turn sharp round to the +right, and on through the garden by a well-kept gravel +path, before you came to the porch of Dan's +old-fashioned, but comfortable, Norfolk cottage. +</p> + +<p> +Lying out here all by himself, one might have said +that Bob looked a little lonesome this evening. And +perhaps he was, for with the exception of the blackbird +that seemed to be singing to the invalid, and to +him alone, he had no companion. Now and then the +bleating of sheep in the distance, the low contented +moan of cows, or the barking of a dog fell on his ear, +and in a small lake almost close by his cot, and over +which the shadows of some giant poplars were thrown, +half-wild ducks played at hide and seek among the +tall reeds, while occasionally a fish leapt up and made +rippling rings on the surface of the water, but that +was about all of life that was at present indicated. +</p> + +<p> +In fine weather it was cheerful enough for Uncle Bob +here, because Dan worked close beside him in the +boat-shed, into which he could wheel the cot if a shower +threatened. And Brother Dan with his rosy face and +his square paper cap, hammering at a boat, or making +the white curly shavings fly from his plane was a +very cheerful figure indeed. +</p> + +<p> +Over and above all this, Dan's property—he always +called it his own property—was situated on high +ground, or what is called high ground in this part of +the world, for Norfolk is not Switzerland; so that from +between the trees Bob could catch glimpses of the far-off +country side, at which he never tired looking. For +it takes very little indeed to create interest in the +mind of the confirmed invalid. The trees in front +of him were mostly tall and weirdly Scottish pines, +whose brown pillar-like stems hardly obstructed the +view. So Bob could feast his eyes on green fields, +where sheep and cattle sheltered themselves from the +sun's rays under the spreading elms; on an ancient +gray-stone hall that rose boldly above a cloudland of +foliage; on an archery lawn near it; on the shimmer +of a silvery lake or broad, and on the flashing waters +of a winding reed-bordered stream. Among the woods +to the right and left of the centre of this picture was +here and there a touch of red among the greenery of +the trees, representing the tiled roofs of farm-houses +or cottages. All combined did not make much of a +picture perhaps, but it was nevertheless a very +peaceful and very pleasant one. +</p> + +<p> +Gazing dreamily at it, Uncle Bob had almost gone +to sleep again, when the voice of a young girl raised in +song, awoke him thoroughly, and looking up he saw +Ruth herself, right on the centre of the rustic bridge, +waving a handful of wild flowers towards him. In front +of her bounded a beautiful black and tan collie dog. +</p> + +<p> +"Dear old Meg!" said Uncle Bob, as the animal +put her fore paws almost on his pillow and licked his +ear. "Been away for hours I'll wager, haven't you +now, Meg, ranging over the hills and fields and chasing +the squire's rabbits?" +</p> + +<p> +The collie leant her cheek against her master's +breast, in that inexpressibly pretty way that such dogs +have of showing pity and affection combined. +</p> + +<p> +"Hullo! Ruth, my little sweetheart, you look as +fresh and lovely as the figure head of the old Queen +Bess in a new coat of paint. Come and kiss your old +uncle, you rogue. Now I've been picturing you to +myself with your sleeves rolled up, washing plates and +things in the kitchen; 'stead o' that you've been +gathering wild flowers." +</p> + +<p class="capcenter"> +<a id="img-022"></a> +<br> +<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-022.jpg" alt=""Hullo! Ruth, you look as fresh and lovely as the figurehead of the old Queen Bess.""> +<br> +"Hullo! Ruth, you look as fresh and lovely as the figurehead of the old <i>Queen Bess</i>." +</p> + +<p> +"All for you, Uncle Bob. Look at the buttercups +and the ox-lips, and oh, uncle, just smell those red +ragged Robins. See I've tied the posie with grass, and +I'll lay them on your breast so you can scent them." +</p> + +<p> +She patted her uncle's brow, and added, "I've +wetted both my feet trying to get a yellow iris, so +I shall run and change my stockings, and get supper +ready 'gainst father and Tom comes home. Ta, ta, +uncle. Meg will stop here, so you won't feel lonely." +</p> + +<p> +Ruth was a fresh-complexion, pretty girl of sweet +thirteen, with shy dark eyes, blithesome face and a +lithesome figure. Mr. Curtiss, the curate, had said more +than once, than only to see Ruth going singing about +at her work of a morning made him feel good all day. +</p> + +<p> +Uncle Bob was naturally very fond of his little +niece, but between our two selves, reader, he was fonder +far of Tom; for when the boy was not away at school, +or scouring the woods and hills with Meg, he was the +invalid's constant companion. +</p> + +<p> +"Tom won't be long now, Meg, will he?" said +Uncle Bob when Ruth had disappeared. "Ha! you're +cocking your ears, old lady. D'ye hear young +master?" Meg emitted just one half-hysterical bark +of joy and jumped down. +</p> + +<p> +Her sharp ears had caught the sound of the boy's +footsteps on the road not far off, so away she bounded. +</p> + +<p> +A few minutes after, young Tom himself, red and +dusty with running, his eyes sparkling with joyous +health and excitement, appeared upon the scene. +</p> + +<p> +Instead, however, of coming quietly up behind +Uncle Bob, and kissing his brow—for the lad was +almost girlish in the affection he displayed for the +helpless invalid—Tom stood at the foot of the cot, +a <i>Times</i> newspaper over his head, and shouting— +</p> + +<p> +"Hip, hip, hooray—ay! +</p> + +<p> +"Hip, hip, hooray—ay—ay!" +</p> + +<p> +"Whatever ails you, sonny? Where have you been +to, and what have you got?" +</p> + +<p> +"Why <i>The Times</i>, Uncle Bob. I walked all the way +to the Hall, round by the broad, to borrow it, after my +tutor told me the news. 'Cause why, uncle, 'cause I +knew you'd like to read the news with your own +old-fashioned eyes. Oh! glorious news, I can tell you. +That is what Mr. Curtiss called it. The French are +going to fight again, at least he thinks so. Won't it be +glorious? won't it be fun? After supper Uncle Bob, +after supper—oh, not now. It is too good to be +scamped and hurried over; besides, I'm so hungry. +And, poor uncle, so must you be. But there! I +haven't told you all the news. The most glorious part +of it is to come. I went to the Hall, you know. +Well, I saw Lady Colemore, and she sent the footman +into the garden with me to see I should eat as many +strawberries as I could hold, and to-morrow, little +Bertha Colemore and her maid are going to bring you +a great big, big basketful all to yourself, and I'm to +feed you with them, and not eat one." +</p> + +<p> +Then Tom laughed so merrily, that he was forced to +lie down on the grass and roll, and Meg was by no +means slow to follow his example. +</p> + +<p> +Uncle Bob laughed too, though there wasn't anything +very special to laugh about, but the sight of +happiness in others always pleased Bob. +</p> + +<p> +"Look here, you young rascal," said Uncle Bob at last. +</p> + +<p> +"That's me," cried Tom, springing up. +</p> + +<p> +He stood at attention, after touching his cap. +</p> + +<p> +"Away aloft, young sir, and have a look round the +horizon. Take the glass, sir." +</p> + +<p> +"Ay, ay, sir," said Tom. "Away aloft it is!" +</p> + +<p> +And next moment he was swarming up the rigging +with all the agility of a practised sailor. +</p> + +<p> +Up and up and up, hand over hand, till his head +touches the bottom of the crow's-nest, then he enters +it from below and settles himself to have a good look +round through the glass. +</p> + +<p> +Now in case this last sentence should seem +enigmatical to the reader I must explain. The crow's +nest was a hugely large and strong barrel, that had +been hoisted up into one of the poplar trees, and +firmly secured at a distance of forty feet above board, +that is above the level of the lawn. The tree, which +was a very beautiful one, with one strong trunk which +reached a height of five-and-twenty-feet, then bifurcated +into two that tapered skywards for fully fifty +feet more, grew almost in the water of the little lake, +and strong ratlines or rigging, similar to that on a ship, +led upwards to the nest. Above this nest was a kind +of Jacob's ladder, up which Tom could swarm for +twenty feet higher and seat himself on what he and +Bob called the top-gallant cross-trees. +</p> + +<p> +From near the bottom of the nest hung a stout rope, +and up this Tom could climb when he chose, or come +down by the run. +</p> + +<p> +This out-look or crow's nest was one of the pleasures +of poor Uncle Bob's lonesome life. It was a pleasure +even to look at it when Tom wasn't there, but when +the lad did come home—and his arrival was one of the +chief events of the day with Bob—hardly had he +exchanged greetings with uncle ere the order was, +"Away aloft, lad!" Then standing in the cosy nest, or +seated high up on the cross-trees, Tom would keep the +invalid informed, for half-an-hour at a time, or even a +whole hour sometimes, of all that was going on at sea. +</p> + +<p> +"Now then, lad," shouted Bob, "is the brig still +there?" +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap0102"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER II. +<br><br> +THE WRECK ON THE GORTON SANDS. +</h3> + +<p class="poem2"> + "How hard the lot for sailors cast,<br> + That they should roam<br> + For years, to perish thus at last<br> + In sight of home."—DIBDIN.<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +"Yes, sir; and she has dropped anchor at +the tail of the Gorton Sands." +</p> + +<p> +"Her skipper's mad," cried Bob; "as +mad as a March hare. Why it's coming +on to blow big guns from the south-east, +or soon will be, and if he doesn't trip +it and be off, there won't be a stick of him left together +by moon-set. Don't look at him, Tom, he's no sailor." +</p> + +<p> +"Five yawls, sir, tacking through Hewett's Channel. +Foremost has got into the blue, filled, and is running +north away." +</p> + +<p> +"Thank you, Tom. Fishermen, I suppose." +</p> + +<p> +"There's a three-masted ship, sir, coming straight in +from the east, under all sail. But there isn't above a +capful of wind." +</p> + +<p> +"Did you say a ship, Tom? Now, be careful." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, sir; I'll look again. Now she's gone about, +and I can see she's a barque." +</p> + +<p> +"Bravo, Tom! But mind you this, lad, I've seen a +man had down from aloft and receive four dozen at +the grating, for just such a trifling mistake as that." +</p> + +<p> +"Now," continued Tom, "I can just raise the topga'nt +sails of a ship far away north. It is a ship right +enough, sir. Appears to be on the la'board tack, and +standing over for the French coast." +</p> + +<p> +"Fiddlesticks, Tom! She'll be about in half-an-hour." +</p> + +<p> +"Why, sir," cried Tom presently, "four of the fishermen +are crowding all sail to the nor'ard, but the +fifth——" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, Tom. What's the matter?" +</p> + +<p> +"She's luffed, and hugging the Gortons!" +</p> + +<p> +"See anything strange about her, Tom?" +</p> + +<p> +"Never saw a yawl so deep in the water before. She +can't be going fishing, uncle. I see something else, +sir, now." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, Tom?" +</p> + +<p> +"But what are you whistling for, Uncle Bob?" +</p> + +<p> +"I'm whistling for the wind, lad." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, you needn't, sir! That—that—strange craft +is bringing it up with her. But I can't quite make her +out. She is long and low, not big; and carries a press +of fore-and-aft sail on two thin masts." +</p> + +<p> +"That isn't a very lucid nor very seaman-like +description, Tom," cried Bob, laughing. "Has she any +top-masts?" +</p> + +<p> +"Ye—es, but——" +</p> + +<p> +"But what?" +</p> + +<p> +"But I can hardly see them. She seems in a hurry, +but doesn't carry topsails. She puzzles me." +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, lad, she's playing a game! She's the d——l +in disguise, Tom." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, uncle, if Ruth heard you!" +</p> + +<p> +"That's what shore folks call these craft, Tom. Now +the brig must see the strange sail. What are they +doing?" +</p> + +<p> +"Why, they're signalling to the yawl, I think." +</p> + +<p> +At this moment the trees caught the wind. The +cedar rattled its great limbs as if in proud defiance of +any blast that could blow. The pine trees waved their +dark heads like the plumes on a Highlander's bonnet. +The elm trees rustled, then roared, and the tapering +poplars bent like fishing-rods before the force of the +breeze. +</p> + +<p> +Uncle Bob laughed aloud. +</p> + +<p> +"Hold firm there, lad," he shouted. His long illness +had not weakened his voice. "Don't get emptied out. +I knew that I could bring the wind by whistling." +</p> + +<p> +"It is only a squall, I suppose, Uncle Bob?" +</p> + +<p> +"That's all; but there's another to follow, and one +or two more to follow that. Then it'll settle down for +a dirty night and blow a sneezer. Look at the blackhead +gulls going shrieking round your head, Tom." +</p> + +<p> +"But now, lad, tell me what's doing at sea. How +does the sea itself look, Tom?" +</p> + +<p> +"Waves all flecked with froth, sir." +</p> + +<p> +"With foam, Tom." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, foam I mean." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, Tom, say so, else I'll have you down, sir, and +introduce you to the gunner's daughter. Liken the +waves to white-maned horses if you please, but not to +quarts o' beer with good heads on them." +</p> + +<p> +Tom was very busy up in the nest for the next few +minutes. There was some little difficulty in holding +the telescope steady, owing to the breeze, and Bob +noticed that first he would direct it east and by south, +then south-east, then east by north. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, Uncle Bob," cried Tom at last, talking excitedly, +"I do wish you could come up here for a few +minutes." +</p> + +<p> +"Ah! lad, I wish I could. I'd give my left eye for +that pleasure." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, I'm so sorry! I forgot you couldn't walk." +</p> + +<p> +"Never mind. What's doing, my boy?" +</p> + +<p> +"Why, sir, they've all gone mad." +</p> + +<p> +"The brig was mad before, else she wouldn't have got +so close to the Gorton bank. What is she doing now?" +</p> + +<p> +"Shaking loose her sails. And she's getting up +anchor to be off." +</p> + +<p> +"And the yawl, the deep one, uncle, has put right +about, and is driving north after the fishermen. Wind's +gone two points more to the south'ard now." +</p> + +<p> +"I notice that, lad. It's only the play o' the squall. +What about the d——l in disguise, Tom?" +</p> + +<p> +"She's mad too. Instead of taking in sail she has +hoisted her topsails, and she's heeling over till she +looks like a paper kite, or a kite's wake." +</p> + +<p> +"How's her head?" +</p> + +<p> +"She's close hauled, sir, and bearing down towards +the brig." +</p> + +<p> +"And the brig?" +</p> + +<p> +"Just ready, sir. Going off on the sta'board tack." +</p> + +<p> +"Close work, won't it be, Tom?" +</p> + +<p> +"At least, I think she is——. Oh-h-h, uncle!" +</p> + +<p> +"What is it, Tom? Speak, boy; tell me, quick." +</p> + +<p> +"Why, she has——yes, Uncle Bob, she has missed +stays, and is driving on to the Corton sands. Oh, it's +awful, awful!" +</p> + +<p> +A pause of some minutes. +</p> + +<p> +"Now she has struck. Down go the masts, and the +seas are leaping over her like wild hyenas." +</p> + +<p> +"Heaven help the poor ship," said Uncle Bob. +"What a lubber of a skipper. I told him, Tom—I +told him—at least, I told you. I don't know +exactly what I'm saying, Tom. But what's the yawl +doing?" +</p> + +<p> +"Carrying on, sir, heading right away north. But +it's getting so dark, what with the rising clouds and +the dusk, that——." +</p> + +<p> +"You're sure, Tom, the yawl is cracking on?" +</p> + +<p> +"Sure, sir." +</p> + +<p> +"The dastard, not to help her consort." +</p> + +<p> +Tom looked down from aloft. +</p> + +<p> +"The wind caught the last word, Uncle Bob," he +shouted. "I didn't." +</p> + +<p> +"I said 'consort,' Tom," cried Bob. "You don't +understand the drama that's being enacted before your +eyes. Tom, it's a tragedy now. That brig is or was +a smuggler. They're not so likely to suspect lubberly +brigs of playing that game. The yawl was coming +down with a cargo to her. See, Tom. And the d——l +in disguise is a government sloop." +</p> + +<p> +"I understand now. But, sir, I can just see that a +boat has been lowered from her, and is making straight +for the wreck with a bit of sail set." +</p> + +<p> +"Bravo! bravo! I hope they'll save the men. The +skipper deserves to be choked in the Gorton sands. +Now, lad, come below. Here is Ruth, just heaving in +sight at the other side of the bridge. Ah! Ruth, lass, +there is terrible news. The brig we talked about in +the morning has gone on shore on the tail of the +Gorton bank. Heaven help them, little sweetheart; +but I fear by this time it is a sad case." +</p> + +<p> +Ruth put the end of her apron up to her eyes as if +to shut out the terrible vision of breaking spars and +timbers, rolling surf, and waves more than houses high. +</p> + +<p> +"Come, Ruth," said Tom, touching the girl on the +shoulder, "let us wheel Uncle Bob home over the +bridge. There is no time to lose." +</p> + +<p> +"Why what does the boy mean?" said Uncle Bob. +</p> + +<p> +"Wait, uncle, till you're in the house, and I'll tell +you. Come, Ruth, you pull and I'll shove. Heave-o-ee. +There she goes. A little more to sta'board, +Ruth. That's it. Now then, steady as you go; a +long pull and a strong pull. Ruth, you're a beauty. +What a capital sailor's wife you'll make!" +</p> + +<p> +Talking thus, with Bob smiling in spite of himself, +in spite of the tragedy he knew was at that moment +being enacted on the Gorton sands, Tom and Ruth +speedily wheeled the invalid's cot towards and right +into his own wing of the cottage. +</p> + +<p> +If ever a helpless man had a kind and thoughtful +brother that man was Uncle Bob. The whole aim and +object of Daniel Brundell's life, indeed, seemed to be +to make the lad—as he often called Bob—happy and +snug; and in this good work he had a most faithful +helpmeet in his wife. As regards inventing invalids' +comforts, I do believe that such a man as Dan would +in our days make his fortune. Let us follow the cot +on wheels for instance. Not into the house by the +main doorway was it taken, for it could not have been +turned, but into what was called 'Uncle's wing,' the +door of which, although surrounded by a rustic +jasmine-covered porch, opened straight into the room. +Once inside, the cot was wheeled broadside on to a +small bed of the same height, a block and tackle were +attached to the upper or hammock portion of Bob's +cot, both at the head and at the feet, Ruth hoisted +one end and Mrs. Brundell the other, and lo! in ten +seconds uncle was raised and swung easily and +carefully on to his bed. +</p> + +<p> +Then the cot was wheeled out to a dry shed till it +should again be required; the invalid's head and +shoulders were raised, and he was snug and happy +for the evening. As a rule Tom fed the poor fellow, +but to-night the lad had something else on his mind. +</p> + +<p> +"I'm going to drink a pint of milk," he said, "and +put some bread and cheese in my pocket to eat by the +way, then run all the road to Lunton Cave, and get +Ashley's yawl under way to go round Gorton. They'll +meet the navy boat, won't they, uncle?" +</p> + +<p> +"Why, boy," said Bob, "as soon as the navy boat +saves whom she can off the brig she'll stand off for +the sloop, and be picked up." +</p> + +<p> +"That she won't, uncle. I saw what you didn't." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, boy?" +</p> + +<p> +"Just before I came down I had another look, and +could see that the Government craft had filled sail, +and was standing right away north in pursuit of the +yawl. So, of course, her boat will run in shore and +try to land at Gorton, or head away for the north pier +at Gorleston. Am I right, uncle?" +</p> + +<p> +"Why, lad, I'm proud o' you! My own bringing +up too. Right? Yes; an admiral of the fleet +couldn't be righter. Well, God speed you, Tom. +Strikes me, though, that the disguised sloop has all +her work cut out if she means to overhaul that yawl. +They'll slip their cargo over the bows without being +seen, and the lighter she is the faster she'll fly. +Besides in the dark and storm——" +</p> + +<p> +"Not so dark, though, uncle. There's a big round +moon peeping up already. But, good-bye, uncle, +mother, and Ruth—I'm off." +</p> + +<p> +And away he went, and certainly very little grass +grew under his feet ere he reached the fisherman's +cave. +</p> + +<p> +Ashley was there himself, and his two sons also, +and Davies, a Welsh fisherman, who lived at the cave. +The yawl too was all ready in a little artificial harbour +the men had dug close to the cave in which they +lived. +</p> + +<p> +Tom soon told his story, and the men were in no +way loth to try their luck at piloting, as they +phrased it. +</p> + +<p> +"But," said Ashley, "it'll be a dirty night, and we'll +have to work every inch o' the way to windward. +Never mind, boys, it's to save precious life!" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, yes," said Davies, "and doubtless we will have +the king's money too, into the bargain, Mr. Ashley." +</p> + +<p> +Old Ashley looked at the man and laughed. +</p> + +<p> +"Take care," he said, "you don't have to take the +king's money in a way you'd little relish, now you've +married a nice young wife." +</p> + +<p> +Ashley's sons laughed, and the Welshman was silent. +The owner of the yawl went up the steps to the door +of the cave, which by-the-way had once been a +smuggler's den, but was now a comfortably-furnished +house, high above the sea-level, except during very +high tides. +</p> + +<p> +"You're surely not going fishing to-night!" cried +Mrs. Ashley, a tall, lanky woman, as brown as a gipsy. +</p> + +<p> +"What if I were, good wife?" answered the old +man gruffly. "Haven't I been out on many a dirtier? +See to it that you have plenty of hot water, and some +supper. We're expecting company." +</p> + +<p> +"Maggie," he added, addressing a young and pretty +woman, "you help mother. There's been a wreck on +the Gorton, and we're going to bear a hand in saving +life." +</p> + +<p> +"All right, daddy," said Mrs. Davies. +</p> + +<p> +He beckoned to her, and she followed him out. +</p> + +<p> +"Is the brick cave safe?" he asked. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, daddy," she answered, surprise and alarm +depicted on her face. "But——are they <i>friends</i>?" +</p> + +<p> +"No, not quite. Revenue." +</p> + +<p> +Maggie nodded and smiled, and went indoors. +</p> + +<p> +In a few minutes more the sail—all that could be +carried—was hoisted, and the yawl rushing out into +the mist and darkness of a squall, the spray dashing +inward over the bows, while the cutwater, rising and +falling, struck angrily at each advancing wave. +</p> + +<p> +The <i>Fairy</i> yawl was a handy little craft, and, <i>sub +rosâ</i>, had been found handy in many ways as well +as in fishing. The Ashleys used to boast openly in +Yarmouth harbour, that in the <i>Fairy</i> they could go +anywhere and do anything, high water or low, blow or +fine. And everybody admitted that the <i>Fairy's</i> crew +were just as daring as they looked. +</p> + +<p> +It really wasn't all for the sake of gain, however, +that the <i>Fairy</i> was now braving the dangers of this +ugly night, nor had Ashley anything at all to do with +the brig that had gone on shore. The old man really +had a good heart of his own, and he could not have +borne the thoughts of men drowning or clinging to the +hull of a wreck without his doing his best to save them. +</p> + +<p> +"I don't think you should have come, boy," he said +kindly to Tom. "Here, get inside this spare oilskin, or +bury yourself in the cuddy." +</p> + +<p> +"Thank you, Mr. Ashley," said Tom, putting on the +oilskin and an old sou'wester, "but I like to look about +me." +</p> + +<p> +The sky soon cleared, and the moon was now well +above the horizon, and as they bore away on the +sta'board tack everything around seemed as bright as +day. Indeed to Tom the cliffs on the shore they were +soon approaching looked most dangerously near. +</p> + +<p> +But to old Ashley at the helm all was plain sailing. +He could read the sea around here, and the wild sand +banks, and rock or cliff and cloud, as one reads a book. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap0103"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER III. +<br><br> +"I SEE IT ALL," HE SAID. "I SEE IT ALL." +</h3> + +<p class="poem2"> + "Be good, be honest, serve a friend,<br> + Are maxims well enough;<br> + Who swabs his brows at other's woe<br> + That tar's for me your sort;<br> + His vessel right ahead shall go<br> + To find a joyful port."—DIBDIN.<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +No yacht ever sailed more closely to the +wind than did the <i>Fairy</i>. She needed +all her powers to-night however to beat +to windward, and indeed there must +have been times, while the squalls were +at their worst, when she was hardly holding her own. +</p> + +<p> +Old Ashley, with his bronzed and wrinkled face, was +the very image of an ancient mariner. His wet oilskin +and sou'-wester glittered yellow in the moonlight, +his wet face glimmered red, his eyes positively shone +at times, despite the fact that they were almost hidden +by his bunchy eyebrows. Many and many a gale of +wind the old man had stared into, his eyes seemed +formed indeed to face the tempest and the spray from +dashing waves. +</p> + +<p> +As he lay there snugly curled up in his oilskins, the +boy, young though he was—but little over ten—could +not help admiring the old man's coolness and courage, +nor the way he steered. +</p> + +<p> +His sons, and Davies too, sat grimly staring ahead +and watching the sea, but ready to spring to sheet or +tackle at the first word of command. +</p> + +<p> +They had been out nearly an hour and a half, and +in that time had hardly made two miles of southing. +Hardly anyone had spoken all this time, certainly +there had been no attempt at conversation, but now +just as the moon escaped from behind a great grey +snowy-edged cloud, Davies half rose, and pointing +ahead and to windward shouted: +</p> + +<p> +"I was see her! I was see the boat! Look you +quick, Mr. Ashley!" +</p> + +<p> +Luckily the wind had gone down between the +squalls, when they drove near the boat, a voice from +which came loudly calling for assistance. It was +answered by Ashley himself. +</p> + +<p> +The sloop's boat had her mast carried away; she +was swamped, and, loaded as she was, would soon have +gone down. +</p> + +<p> +Ashley passed her with a cheering word or two, +put his yawl prettily round, lowered his mainsail, +and driving down under his jibs ashiver, and little +after sail, laid the boat aboard in the neatest way +imaginable. +</p> + +<p> +With some further skilful management everybody +was got on board, with the exception of two left to +bale, and the boat was taken in tow. +</p> + +<p> +It was a lieutenant of the Royal Navy who came +on board with his men and prisoners—five only had +been saved off the brig—about a third of her crew. +The officer was in undress uniform, but armed with +sword and pistols, and he was proceeding to thank old +Ashley, when that ancient mariner gruffly told him +to "flop down out o' the way, else how could he +steer." +</p> + +<p> +The lieutenant said no more. But presently the +yawl drew in near the shore, for she had been positively +flying before the wind. +</p> + +<p> +"Stand by," roared Ashley, "to lower away." +</p> + +<p> +So quickly did the <i>Fairy</i> come round, that the proud +lieutenant found himself down to leeward with his +sword between his feet, and his cap in the sea. Next +minute the yawl was in harbour. +</p> + +<p> +"'Scuse me," said Ashley, "if I talked a bit rough. +We aren't much used to king's officers here away. +What, lost your cap? Here, take mine." +</p> + +<p> +The ancient mariner pulled his own sou'-wester off +as he spoke and clapped it unceremoniously on the +lieutenant's head, almost extinguishing him. But the +officer laughed right merrily, again thanked Ashley, +and then gave orders to his men to form a guard +round the prisoners, who had already begun to cast +sheep's eyes towards the cliffs, as if they'd like to +be off. +</p> + +<p> +"Come, sir," said old Ashley, "follow me up the +steps, and all your merry men. What's your name, +captain?" +</p> + +<p> +"Merryweather, at your service, my good fellow." +</p> + +<p> +They had just entered the lower and outer cave, a +large room with a rough deal table and wooden benches, +but well lighted with whale-oil lamps. Old Ashley +turned to his guest, and laughingly edged the brim of +the sou'-wester off his brow, exposing the whole features +of a sun-bronzed but pleasant face, slightly disfigured, +or, let us say, rendered all the more interesting, by a +white scar there over brow and cheek. +</p> + +<p> +"Did you say Merryweather? Well, 'scuse me, but +durn me if ye look the least little bit like a +merry-weather sailor. Got that cut across your figure-head +by fallin' on a foot-stool in church, eh?" +</p> + +<p> +And Ashley laughed at his own joke till the cave +rang again. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile the sailors and their prisoners crowded +in <i>sans ceremonie</i>. +</p> + +<p> +"Sit down there, lads," said Ashley; "you'll all have +bite and sup before long. Captain Merryweather, this +way, sir, please." +</p> + +<p> +Up another staircase, through a short passage and +into another cave, far better furnished and more +brilliantly lighted than the last. Here, May though +the month was, a fire of peats and wood burned on a +low hearth, and Ashley pointed to a chair near it and +bade his guest sit down. +</p> + +<p> +A table stood near, and presently Mrs. Davies +bustled in and laid the supper, the captain rising and +bowing to her most gallantly. A huge dish of +potatoes boiled in their skins, and a great joint of +beef, the steam from which went curling to the cave's +roof. +</p> + +<p> +Ashley went to the door, and shouted down to the +under cave. "Below there, sons! see that those poor +fellows have plenty o' bread and fish and beer. Tom +Brundell, what are you doin' down there? Come up +here, quick." +</p> + +<p> +Tom entered shyly, and threw down his hat. +</p> + +<p> +"There, captain," cried Ashley, "that's the chap you +have to thank for savin' your life." +</p> + +<p> +Tom turned as red as a beet at first, but in five +minutes he was perfectly at ease, and thought this +officer was by far and away the most pleasant +gentleman he had ever met in his life. +</p> + +<p> +But it really was love at first sight with both of +them, and Merryweather was soon laughing right +heartily at Tom's description of the poplar tree rigged +like a ship's mast, and the crow's-nest and cross-trees +and all the rest of it. +</p> + +<p> +"And whose idea was it, my boy?" +</p> + +<p> +"Poor Uncle Bob's, sir. At least, he isn't my uncle, +sir, but he brought me home with father from Jamaica, +where I was born. Father was drowned, you know, +sir—at least not quite drowned, because he lived some +time after—and Uncle Bob's brother Dan, my daddy, +you know, reared me. He and old mother, who isn't +mother exactly——" +</p> + +<p> +"Stop, stop, boy! Why I am getting mixed, or you +are getting mixed, or—— Oh, I know how it is! +Mr. Ashley, that rum of yours, that you say has never paid +duty, has gone to my noddle. Now, Tom, my brave +lad, will you begin again?" +</p> + +<p> +Ashley laughed right pleasantly now. +</p> + +<p> +"Why," he said, "that little birkie has a story to +tell, or there's a story to tell about him. It's too +long though; besides, here is Mrs. Davies and my old +woman waiting." +</p> + +<p> +"I beg a thousand pardons," said Merryweather, +jumping up and drawing a chair towards the table. +"What a pleasant home you have, Mrs. Ashley!" +</p> + +<p> +"Handy enough at times," said the old lady. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Davies trod on her toes under the table. +</p> + +<p> +"Mother means," said old Ashley, "that it is a good +habitation in fine weather; but when the sea takes +charge o' the downstairs, and sobs and sighs against +the door here, why it ain't quite so cheery. Now +heave round with the beef. The 'taties grew over your +head on the cliff-top, and, as I said afore, the rum +never paid duty. Fine thing to tell a king's officer. +Ha! ha!" +</p> + +<p> +"Now Tom, birkie, fill the captain's glass." +</p> + +<p> +But though this story dates back to the old drinking +days, Merryweather was a very abstemious officer. He +was very much pleased, however, with his strange +surroundings, and after supper sat long in the easy chair, +smoking and listening to stories of the time when this +had really been a smuggler's cave. +</p> + +<p> +"But now," said Merryweather at last, "I must +go to my boat and try to snatch a few hours' sleep. +The little <i>Porcupine</i> may be back to-morrow, and +then——" +</p> + +<p> +"Back to-morrow, eh?" said old Ashley, laughing. +"No, sir, not if she means crackin' on after the Dorothy +yawl." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, and my mate'll have her too," said the lieutenant. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, sir!" said Tom, blushing at his own boldness, +"do come home with me. Father and mother have a +nice little spare room, and——" +</p> + +<p> +"Why, Tom, you said your father was drowned? +But come, my lad, I'll go with you, if it isn't +too far." +</p> + +<p> +"Only about a mile, sir, and I'll be up and down to +the crow's nest all the morning, and will see the +<i>Porcupine</i> ten miles away." +</p> + +<p> +"I'll go, lad." +</p> + +<p> +In another minute the ancient mariner had conducted +his guest by a private staircase to the breezy +cliff-top. Merryweather shook hands, and off went +Tom and he together. +</p> + +<p> +When they reached home, Meg came joyfully barking +to meet them, and there was the wagon in the +yard, and Tom could hear the mare stumping her +lame foot in the stable; so he knew that daddy had +come. +</p> + +<p> +There was a light in Uncle Bob's window, and it +occurred to the boy that he might as well take +Lieutenant Merryweather in here first. So he began +to sing, which was the invariable signal to Uncle Bob +that announced his arrival. +</p> + +<p> +Tom opened the door a little way and peeped +in. "May I come in, Uncle Bob, and bring—a +friend?" +</p> + +<p> +"Come in, you young rascal. Wager two-pence +you've got one o' the crew o' the d——l in disguise +with you." +</p> + +<p> +So in walked Tom. +</p> + +<p> +And in marched the officer. +</p> + +<p> +But certainly the boy was not prepared for what +followed. Uncle Bob had turned his eyes towards the +door, but they positively seemed to grow as large and +round as saucers when they alighted on the sun-browned +features of Lieutenant Merryweather. Nor +did the latter appear one whit less surprised than Uncle +Bob. But he recovered himself sooner. +</p> + +<p> +"What!" he cried, "can it be possible? My old +shipmate, Bob Brundell, that sailed with me for years +in the old <i>Turtle</i>, and was in my own watch? Wonders +will never cease. Why I heard you were drowned ever +so long ago. Wonders never do cease; but tip us your +nipper, for auld lang syne." +</p> + +<p> +Then Uncle Bob's face fell, and tears sprung to his +eyes, aye, and trickled over his face. +</p> + +<p> +"Ah! sir," he said mournfully, "poor Bob is on his +beam ends, and couldn't move a toe if the ship was on +fire." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, this is inexpressibly sad," said Merryweather. +patting his old shipmate's cheek. "But there is hope, +isn't there? Ah! here comes your elder brother. I +knew him at once from you, Bob. How d' ye do, sir? +Glad to make the acquaintance of my old friend's +brother. How glad I am to see you both!" +</p> + +<p> +"Tom," cried Uncle Bob, "bring my pipe and light +it for me. Sit you down, mate. Well, you were mate +you know in the dear old days, though now you're +lieutenant. Sit down, brother Dan. Thank you, Tom. +I do believe the young rascal'll soon learn to smoke +just with lighting my pipe. What's the time, +youngster?" +</p> + +<p> +"Just gone one bell in the middle watch," said +Tom seriously, after consulting an old silver turnip +that he pulled with an air of manliness out of his +fob. +</p> + +<p> +"Going to be a sailor, my boy?" said the lieutenant, +putting his hand on Tom's head. +</p> + +<p> +Uncle Bob answered for him. +</p> + +<p> +"Why, old shipmate," he said, "he's almost a sailor +already. And he was born in the service." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, by the way," cried Merryweather, "I must hear +the lad's story. It's mixed up with yours I know, +Bob. One bell in the middle watch is no time at all, +so heave round with your yarn." +</p> + +<p> +"I'll heave round," said Bob; "but brother Dan's +mixed up in it too, so he'll have to put a hand to the +wheel as well. Light your pipe, Dan. Ah! if you +only knew what a dear old brother Dan is to me, +Mr. Merryweather——." +</p> + +<p> +"Hush, hush," cried Dan. +</p> + +<p> +But Merryweather stretched out his white, soft +hand, and squeezed the rough, red fist that Dan put in +it. "I can see it all," he said. "I can see it all. Now, +Bob, it is you to begin the story." +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap0104"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER IV. +<br><br> +UNCLE BOB TELLS TOM'S STORY. +</h3> + +<p class="poem2"> + "If to engage they give the word,<br> + To quarters all repair;<br> + While splintered masts go by the board,<br> + And shots sing through the air."—DIBDIN.<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +"Mr. Merryweather," Uncle Bob +began, "it's many years since the old +<i>Turtle</i> was re-commissioned out at +Bermuda, and you and I parted." +</p> + +<p> +"That it is, Bob. Ten, if a dog-watch." +</p> + +<p> +"And you stopped in the tub, as we used to call her, +and I went out to join the <i>Billy Ruffian</i> at Jamaica. +Now, mate—for mate I will call you, though you're a +bold lieutenant now—take a hold o' young Tom there, +and turn him round to the light. Focus the little chap +right, and see if he doesn't put you in mind o' someone +you know." +</p> + +<p> +Lieutenant Merryweather did as he was told. +</p> + +<p> +"Why not Miss Raymond, surely? Yet indeed he +does. The dark eyes, the small mouth and nose, and +all complete. Come, Bob, I shall listen with more +marked attention to this yarn of yours, now." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, first and foremost, it must be pipe down +hammocks as far as young Tom is concerned," Bob +began. +</p> + +<p> +"I'll turn in at once, Uncle Bob," said Tom. +</p> + +<p> +So he bade good-night to all hands and trotted off. +</p> + +<p> +"Did you say ten years, mate, since you and I +parted? Why it's going on for a round dozen. Let +me see, I'm two-and-thirty, and you can't want a +deal of thirty." +</p> + +<p> +"Worse luck, Bob, and only lieutenant yet. Should +have been promoted long ago. Don't think me on +the swagger, Bob, if I say that my services have been +meritorious enough since I saw the last of you. But +I've seen youngster after youngster promoted over my +head. More interest, Bob; more interest!" +</p> + +<p> +"Well, Mr. Merryweather, you were a jolly young +waterman anyhow when I left you in Bermuda. And +it was about this very Miss Raymond you fought the +duel on the very morning after the ball—aye, and +winged your soldier too." +</p> + +<p> +"So it was, Bob, and I remember how sleepy I was. +But I resolved not to take life; so instead of firing at +the major, I took aim at a bunch of bananas that hung +on a tree some yards to his right." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," said Bob, laughing, "and that was why you +hit the major. If you'd aimed at the major you'd +have hit the bananas. Plucky little fellow, though, he +was, for even when the surgeon was probing his arm +with his pipe-cleaner he apologised to you most +handsomely. Think I see him yet, reclining in his second's +arms on the grass, and you standing forenenst him, +stem on, and taking all the honour and glory of that +shot. 'Sir! It was a pretty shot,' cried the major, +'and I owe you my life. A man who could rip +open his opponent's pistol arm so neatly as that could +have put his bullet through the bridge of his nose and +spoiled his beauty for life. Excuse my left hand, sir, +but I want to grasp the fist of a brave and generous +gentleman.' +</p> + +<p> +"'I don't believe in taking life, major,' you drawled +out, 'when it can be avoided, and so——' +</p> + +<p> +"'And so you wing your men. Bravo! I shall +remember that, and sir, you must dine with me as +soon's I'm out of the doctor's hands.'" +</p> + +<p> +"Did you dine with him, Mr. Merryweather?" +</p> + +<p> +"I did, Bob, and he proved a brick; but then the +bone of contention, pretty Miss Raymond, had +disappeared. I' faith, Bob, I did fall in love with that +girl, head over heels, and if she'd asked me to cut the +buttons off my coat, and pitch them at the admiral's +head, I'd have done it. But heave round, Bob." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, mate, Miss Raymond came to Jamaica with +her father the colonel. There were some disturbances +in the bush, and Commander Bure was sent on shore +with a party of bluejackets to support the soldiers. +Why these Joeys were behaving about as silly as silly +could be, marching through the country with drums +and pipes, to attack an enemy that killed them right +and left from behind the scrub and the bush, but never +showed a head. We altered all that, we took the enemy +in the rear, we never piped, and we never drummed, but +we killed 'em by the score, and the prisoners we hung +like herrings on the trees. It was wild work, but it +had to be done." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, mate, Bure, our good commander, was a very +active gentleman, he would push on, and he would show +himself at times when he didn't ought to; so he got +downed, ay, and would have been scuppered too, if I +and my mates hadn't rushed in and drove the butchers +off." +</p> + +<p> +"Where did you drive them to, Bob?" +</p> + +<p> +"Made flies' meat o' them, sir. But the commander +swore I'd saved his life, and he would make me his +servant, and have me always about him on shore or +afloat; and when he got engaged to Miss Raymond, +why, mate, it was me that carried all the billy-doos +back and fore, you know. Sometimes I'd be ashore +and off again twice in every watch. Well, +Mr. Merryweather, what with all the billing and cooing +and billy-doo-ing the commander and she got spliced +at last. Ah! that was a spree, I can tell you. And a +sweet bonnie bride the charming lady looked!" +</p> + +<p> +"Hush, hush, Bob; you're opening old sores." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, mate, the commander was nearly always on +shore after this, and our old captain—O'Hare was his +name—told Bure one day straight to his face that +marriage made muffs of men, and spoiled 'em for the +service." +</p> + +<p> +"It was pretty nearly ten months after my good +commander's marriage that we hove up anchor and +went off east to look out for some flighty Frenchees, +that were playin' fast and loose with our merchant +ships that scorned to go in convoys. I never saw +anything in my life, mate, so affecting-like as the +parting atween the commander and his young wife—she +in tears and clinging to him, and he——, well, it +doesn't do to say that a sailor pipes his eyes, but +la! sir, I was glad when it was all over and our boat was +speedin' away towards the ship. +</p> + +<p> +"For six mortal months we kept our weather eyes +open looking for the Frenchee's cruisers, and then we +came up with two. And—why they must between the +pair of them have carried twice our number of guns. +</p> + +<p> +"We crowded all sail, mate, put her dead afore the +wind, and the race began. We were running away +though, and however the Frenchees didn't see through +the caper is more than I can tell. In less than half +an hour there was three-quarters of a mile betwixt the +foremost Frenchee and her consort. So we got ready +for action without making any extra fuss about it. +Then we wore ship, and the captain of that foremost +frigate must have begun to scratch his head. Seems +to me, Mr. Merryweather, he knew just as much +about navy tactics as a cow does about chess. +Presently she put about though, with signals flying +to her consort—signals of distress we called them. +When near enough we sent a round shot or two +roaring through her rigging, but if the Frenchee +thought our game was to be a stand-off fight he was +miserably mistaken. Under one pretence or another, +and always firing another shot or two, we got far +enough to windward to bear down on her with a +beam wind. Why we were near enough to shave her +stern almost when we raked her. I think her wheel +and steersman must have been blown up to the moon. +Down went her mast, and before the confusion was +over we had tacked and filled, and come up on her +port quarter. Our master laid the <i>Ruffian</i> aboard +as prettily as you please, and next minute we were +on the Frenchman's decks. +</p> + +<p> +"It was hammer and tongs for a good five minutes, +then, on a blood-stained battle-deck, a smiling and +bowing French officer gave up his sword to our bold +Commander Bure. +</p> + +<p> +"O'Hare complimented him when he returned on +board. 'Marriage,' he said, 'may make muffs of some +men, but it hasn't taken the heart of oak out of you, +Bure.' +</p> + +<p> +"I must make a long story short, Mr. Merryweather, +for it's two bells if it's a tick. Almost the first man +to board us when we got back to Kingston harbour +was Colonel Raymond himself. I knew the moment +I saw him that poor Mary, as my commander called +her, was dead. But I'll never forget the state of utter +collapse—the doctor called it that—I found Bure in +when I entered his cabin. +</p> + +<p> +"'Oh, Bob, Bob,' he cried, 'My poor Mary! my poor +Mary!' +</p> + +<p> +"He was weeping like a school-girl, the self-same +hero that had received the French commander's +blood-stained sword. +</p> + +<p> +"For months Bure never laughed or smiled. His +chief pleasure and delight was to go on shore and play +with or talk to his baby boy. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, mate, we stuck together all the commission, +and did a bit o' fighting too whenever we had the +chance. To tell you the truth, after poor Mrs. Bure had +been dead about two years, there were only just two +situations in which you might have said the +commander was happy—one was when little Tom was +brought on board by his nurse, and the other when +Bure had a sword in his hand, and was boarding a +frog-eating Frenchee. +</p> + +<p> +"But it was in a boat action that my dear commander +received a shot that, for the time being, seemed to have +clean knocked the life out of him, and—I do think +even now—was the beginning of the end. He lay in +hospital on shore for a long time, three months I think, +and it wasn't till the end of that time that the +doctors found the bullet. The beggarly thing had +entered his shoulder in front, and instead o' lodging +there as a respectable bullet ought, it must go on a +cruise on its own hook, and was finally fished out of +the poor fellow's side. +</p> + +<p> +"'Bob,' he said to me one day, sometime after this, +'they are going to send me home with a batch of +invalids in convoy. I'm not sorry for my little lad's +sake, but, mind you, I don't think I'm going to +weather this illness.' +</p> + +<p> +"I tried to laugh away his fears, but he stopped me. +</p> + +<p> +"'Belay that, Bob!' he said, or words to that effect, +'and listen. I like you, Bob, because you're a good, +faithful fellow.' +</p> + +<p> +"I felt ashamed like when he told me that, and +maybe he noticed it, for he spoke up. +</p> + +<p> +"'Oh, yes, you have been faithful to me, Bob, and you +love my little chap Tom. Well, Bob, I'm not saying +that I can't weather this, the doctor says I may; but +just for the present, imagine that you're listening to +the words of a dying man. You're like myself, Bob, +a Norfolk man, and, singularly enough, you come from +the very coast where relations of mine have estates +that might—mind you, Bob, I only say might—eventually +belong to my little fellow. But—are you +listening, Bob?' +</p> + +<p> +"'That I am, heartily, sir,' I replied. +</p> + +<p> +"'Well, Bob, my cousin, who owned these estates, is +dead, only a month ago. He leaves behind him a son +some years older than Tom, and a baby daughter. +Now this baby daughter doesn't count, the son is the +owner, and the mother, who loves me, Bob, about as a +much as a Frenchman loves red-hot shot, holds the +estates in his behalf. I hear the lad is sickly, and if +anything happened to him I'd come in, if alive, and +if dead, my little Tom. If there was no little Tom, +Bob, the estates would pass to her ladyship's male +relations, second cousins of mine and hers, for there +has been marrying and inter-marrying, Bob.' +</p> + +<p> +"'Well, sir?' +</p> + +<p> +"'Well, Bob, you see that box?' +</p> + +<p> +"'Yes, sir.' +</p> + +<p> +"'Look to that, Bob, if I should die. Take it with +you to your brother's house when you go there. If +your brother is half as good as you, Bob——' +</p> + +<p> +"'He's twice as good, sir,' I cried. +</p> + +<p> +"'You and he will take it to my Yarmouth bankers, +and they will keep it safe for Tom.' +</p> + +<p> +"He held out his hand—a thin white one it was—and +I gave him mine with a heave O! and a hearty +O! and the compact was made. +</p> + +<p> +"'About little Tom, here,' he said after a pause. +'I don't want him to be a sailor you know, but if he +wants to be—why he must be.' +</p> + +<p> +"'And his friends and relations, sir?' I made bold +to ask. +</p> + +<p> +"The commander laughed bitterly. +</p> + +<p> +"'Friends, he has none,' he replied, 'except his +father, you Bob, and perhaps your brother.' +</p> + +<p> +"'Well, sir,' I said, 'I hope it won't come to that.' +</p> + +<p> +"'Hush! Bob, hush!' he said, 'It is our duty in +this world to be always prepared for the unseen.' +</p> + +<p> +"Well, Mr. Merryweather, I thought my poor +commander was much better after this. So indeed +he told me. 'I've relieved my mind, Bob,' he said, +'and the doctors have relieved my body.'" +</p> + +<p> +"After this he would chat with me for an hour at a +time, about the quiet and happy life he meant to lead +on shore with his little son. How they would shoot +and fish on the broads throughout all the long summer +days, and how they'd live in a pretty little cottage in +the land o' poppies, all surrounded by gardens and +shrubberies, and how he himself would attend to the +boy's education, and try to make a man of him, fit to +take his place in the battle of life, whether that battle +was to be fought on shore or on the deep blue sea. +</p> + +<p> +"Our voyage home in convoy was a long but not very +eventful one. It was long because the fleet o' +merchantmen guarded by the convoys was a very big one, and +some kept dropping behind, or getting lost, and as +there was always, or nearly always, a Frenchman or +two hovering like hawks about us, we had to be cautious +I can tell you. +</p> + +<p> +"But long before we reached the Downs little Tom +had received his baptism o' the briny, there wasn't a +doubt about it. He was the pet of the ship, he was +dressed like a little tar, and looked it all over. I only +wonder he never tumbled overboard, for I've seen the +young nipper half-way up to the maintop, and nobody +near him. +</p> + +<p> +"One day he told his father on the quarter-deck +that he was going to be 'a sailor man, and nuffin else, +and fight the Flenchman for his king and country O!' +</p> + +<p> +"I daresay some of the blue-jackets had piped this +into him, but his father looked about to where I was +standing laughing—I couldn't help it—and said, 'Ah, +Bob, I'm afraid it's born in him.' +</p> + +<p> +"'I'm afraid so too,' I said, and his father kind o' +sighed, but didn't say any more. +</p> + +<p> +"We got into the Downs at last safe and sound, and +lay there wind-bound for a fortnight. But at last we +got just the breeze we were waiting for, and slipped +away past the North Foreland, and in a day or so more +our ship was safe in dock. +</p> + +<p> +"I wrote to brother Dan here, and told him my +master and myself would start for Yarmouth within a +week in the saucy <i>Polly Ann</i>. +</p> + +<p> +"But there, now, Dan will tell you the rest, but just +stick my pipe in my mouth first, Dan.'" +</p> + +<p> +Dan cleared his throat, lit Bob's pipe, and sat down +near his bed to hold it for the poor helpless fellow, +while he himself continued the yarn. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap0105"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER V. +<br><br> +A MOUNTAIN WAVE COMES SWELLING OVER THE SANDS. +</h3> + +<p class="poem2"> + "His form was of the manliest beauty,<br> + His heart was kind and soft;<br> + Faithful below he did his duty,<br> + But now he's gone aloft."—DIBDIN.<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +"When I heard," said Dan Brundell, "that +there was a brig ashore on the tail of +the Gorton Sands, I had no more notion +that it was Bob's <i>Polly Ann</i> than I +have o' what the weather will be this +day month. I'd been down with some +oars Gorton ways, and I met old Ashley while returning. +</p> + +<p> +"Would I volunteer, he said, to go in the <i>Fairy</i>; one +of his sons was from home, and we might, he said, +pick up a bit o' salvage, as well as flotsom. +</p> + +<p> +"'She's hard and fast now,' he says, 'but is bound +to break up.' +</p> + +<p> +"So I thought too, when I embarked, for it was blowing +56-pounders, and a heavy sea tearing in from the +east. It was the heavy, tearing sea that did it. 'Fore +we had got well abreast o' the Gorton Tail, we could +see in the bright moonlight the dark hull o' the brig, +both masts snapped short off, lifting and falling in the +jaws of the foaming seas like a creature in agony. +</p> + +<p> +"'She can't stand it for half-an-hour," said Ashley; +'and what's more, Dan, we can't get anyw'eres near +her. There'll be widows a-weeping to-morrow mornin', +mate, at old Yarmouth docks.' +</p> + +<p> +"But what we saw next astonished Ashley himself, +though, man and boy, he'd been on the water all his +life. It was a mountain sea coming swelling over the +sands and swallowing everything up before it, and lo! sir, +in a minute more, there was the dark hull of that +brig being borne bodily toward us.' +</p> + +<p> +"What happened after this I can't well describe, +bein' as how I'm slow o' speech like, but in half-an-hour +all the beach for a mile and more, was strewn wi' +wreck, and many a body was washed in on the surf and +left dead, or for dead, on the sands. But lawk! sir, you +could have knocked me down with a sledge-hammer +when, on turning over one of these bodies, I found it +was poor Bob yonder, and no one else." +</p> + +<p> +"He had a small deed-box alongside him, with +a piece o' manilla round it. He had come ashore with +this. I didn't doubt that, even then. +</p> + +<p> +"At first I thought him dead. But he soon opened +his eyes and spoke. +</p> + +<p> +"'Haul me high and dry,' he said, 'high and dry, +dear brother, for I can't move. It isn't drowned I am +at all. It's a stroke, Dan; a stroke." +</p> + +<p> +"This was a sad sort of a meeting 'twixt two +brothers that had always loved each other same as Bob +and me has, and for the life of me I couldn't have +spoken then, no, never a word. I tried to swallow +back my grief and tears, as it were, and lifted the lad +right up in my arms, and carried him away beyond the +reach o' the raging surf, and there I laid him down. I +knelt beside him there in the pale moonlight. I cared +for nothing nor nobody just then, but only Bob. I +noticed though, that his eyes and head were turned +wistful-like towards the boiling sea. +</p> + +<p> +"'Dan,' he said, 'bring the box and put it close by +me. Thanks, dear Dan; you were always good. Now +go at once, Dan, and look for Captain Bure and his +little boy.' It wasn't long either 'fore I found 'em. +The poor little tot of a chap with long, silken hair, +and bonnie black eyes, was weeping and wailing over +his father. +</p> + +<p> +"'Oh, sailor man,' he said to me, 'poor pa! poor +pa! He's deaded! he's deaded!' +</p> + +<p> +"'No, no, my little man,' I answered. 'Your father +isn't dead.' So I hurried away and got the gentlemen +into the cave. Gentle and simple, dead and maimed +and living, they all lay there, with the cold moonbeams +glinting in through the doorway, and struggling like +wi' the yellow rays of the whale oil lamp. +</p> + +<p> +"In two hours' time the doctor had come, and we—the +living ones—began to gain hope and courage. +</p> + +<p> +"The good man did all he could for everybody, +and next day Captain Bure, with his little boy +Tom—yes, Tom that has just gone to turn in—and poor +Bob, were fetched in the boat waggon to our cottage +here. The captain was soon able to get about, but +Bob lay quiet enough, and never yet has he lifted +hand or foot. +</p> + +<p> +"But it wasn't a stroke, the doctor said, not of the +'pplexy, anyhow. 'More likely,' he said, 'it's been a +stroke with a floating spar, and the neck is injured +right smart.' +</p> + +<p> +"Well, sir, it would have done your heart good to +have seen how kind and attentive the captain was to +Bob. 'He's been my nurse many's the time,' he said, +'and now, Mr. Dan, it's my turn.' +</p> + +<p> +"But all the time I could see as plain's I see the +moon shining on the curtains yonder, that the poor +captain himself would soon be under the daisies and +grass." +</p> + +<p> +"One morning, says the gentleman to me smiling-like, +'I'm going to charter your boat-waggon to-day, +Dan, if you'll come with me to Yarmouth, and young +Tom'll stop with Bob till we return.' +</p> + +<p> +"It was a lovely day, sir, with the birds all singing +as if their hearts were swelling with the joy that was +in them, and their feelings had to find vent somewhere +in song, or in lofty flight. So we drove round by the +big hill on the broad. +</p> + +<p> +"I could see the captain meant to make a day of it, +and so I drove slow. +</p> + +<p> +"When I came near the hall and the pretty grounds +and the swaying trees and rookeries and things, he told +me to drive slower still, that he might enjoy every +thing, and all the beauties of nature around him. +But la! sir, I was surprised to see him so white and +pale like. At last he said, 'Drive on now, Dan as fast +ye like.' He was still white and ghastly-like, though, +so I jumped down at a pub and got a tot of rum. I +took a sip myself, more for fashion sake like, and made +him swallow the rest. +</p> + +<p> +"He was better all day after that; but I remember +he laughed once or twice as he told me his feet were so +cold. 'Seems funny,' he said, 'on so fine a day.' +</p> + +<p> +"I didn't answer much. I knew well there wasn't +a deal of fun in it. +</p> + +<p> +"We had that deed-box with us, and we went into +the bank. We left the box there, and had a long talk +with the banker. Leastways, Captain Bure had. +</p> + +<p> +"Then he turned to me, and laughed again. +</p> + +<p> +"'My good Dan,' he said, 'if the cold of my feet gets +higher up and goes round the heart——' +</p> + +<p> +"The tears sprang to my silly eyes, sir. +</p> + +<p> +"'Oh, sir!' I cried, 'don't talk so, it grieves me to +hear it.' +</p> + +<p> +"'There are times,' he said, 'when men must talk +straight. Now, I've known your brother so long, Dan, +and heard so much about you, that I want you to be a +father to little Tom—if——' +</p> + +<p> +"'I know, sir!' I cried. 'Don't repeat it. My wife +and I have neither chick nor child savin' little Ruth. +We'll see to Tom.' +</p> + +<p> +"He clasped my hand. +</p> + +<p> +"'Mr. Mackay,' he said, 'has full instructions, and +enough money of mine to give Tom bite and sup, and a +good education. Come, Dan, and we'll buy some +comforts for poor Bob.' +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * * +</p> + +<p> +"I am not sure," continued Dan, after a pause, "if +that isn't all the story." +</p> + +<p> +"Not quite," said Mr. Merryweather. "There is the +death of Captain Bure, you know." +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, sir, we won't speak of that. It happened +soon; and he lies in a quiet corner of the great +churchyard at Yarmouth. Little Tom and I go there one +Sunday every month to put flowers upon the grave." +</p> + +<p> +The honest boat-builder ceased talking and lit his +pipe. +</p> + +<p> +"Dear droll little Tom," he added a moment after, +"he does say such queer things. Maybe other folks +wouldn't notice 'em, but I do. 'It's only pa's body +that lies here, you know, daddy,' he said to me two +Sundays ago, 'his soul has gone up to the clouds to +live, hasn't it?' +</p> + +<p> +"I didn't speak for a minute, I was thinkin' o' the +words of that song, sir— +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + 'For though his body's under hatches,<br> + His soul has gone aloft.'<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +"The little chap sat down beside the grave and +arranged the flowers, then smoothed all the long +grass out straight as if it had been hair. He took my +hand after that, and we walked quietly and silently +away. +</p> + +<p> +"'Pa,' he said afterwards, 'is only afraid I'll be +drowned if I go to sea. But I think he'll be pleased +when I am a sailor all the same.' +</p> + +<p> +"No, Tom never looks upon his father as really dead, +you know. +</p> + +<p> +"Mr. Curtiss is our curate, and he is Tom's tutor, +though Bob there teaches him a lot, and has pretty +nearly made a sailor of him already. And I'm sure +I cannot blame poor Bob——for——" +</p> + +<p> +Dan paused now, and held up his forefinger warningly, +while his eyes rested on his brother's face. He +took the pipe away and shifted the light, for the +invalid was fast asleep. Then he went silently away +on tip-toe, and Mr. Merryweather followed him, with +just one good-night glance at the sleeping form of his +old shipmate, Bob. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap0106"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER VI. +<br><br> +SUMMER MORNING ON A NORFOLK BROAD. +</h3> + +<p class="poem2"> + "The coot was swimming in the reedy pond,<br> + Beside the water-hen so soon affrighted;<br> + And in the weedy moat the heron, fond<br> + Of solitude, alighted.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem2"> + "The moping heron, motionless and stiff,<br> + That on a stone as silently and stilly<br> + Stood, an apparent sentinel, as if<br> + To guard the water lily."—TOM HOOD.<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +Our little hero, Tom, was early astir next +morning. In fact he was up with the +lark. High up, too; for his first act, +after sluicing his sleepy face in a bucket +of water, and drying off with a rough +brown towel, was to swarm up into the +crow's nest and have a look around. +</p> + +<p> +The morning was bright and clear, and the beach +was swarming with country people; but there was no +sign of the government vessel or of the yawl she had +gone in pursuit of. Not content with scanning the +horizon from the crow's nest, Tom must needs climb up +as high as the cross-trees, and take observations from +that coign of vantage. +</p> + +<p> +The wind had gone down to the gentlest breeze, but +a heavy sea still rolled over the sands, and broke in +white surging waves upon the beach. From where he +stood, or rather hung, Tom could easily hear the boom +or roar of each mountain breaker, keeping up a kind of +deep bass to the screaming of the sea birds that floated +near him. +</p> + +<p> +The sun had only just risen, and was flooding the +ocean with a strange yellow light, while bars of silvery +and crimson clouds lay parallel with the horizon, even +far away to the west. +</p> + +<p> +It was indeed a lovely morning, one to make a +person feel as light and happy as the birds that sang +in every bush or thicket. But nevertheless a wave of +sadness passed over the boy's heart as he thought of +the drowned men who lay so quiet and still upon the +sands out yonder, and of their friends and relations +who were left to mourn. +</p> + +<p> +It somehow seemed to Tom unnatural that so much +of sorrow should mingle with the gladsomeness of this +sunny summer's day. He had yet to learn that all the +world and all our lives are made up of light and shade, +and that even in the midst of life we are in death. +</p> + +<p> +But as he walked homeward now over the rustic +bridge, he checked the song that rose to his lips. He +would not sing, with dead men lying unburied on the +sands of Yare. +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * * +</p> + +<p> +It seemed to Tom that this morning would take a long, +long time to pass by. He got his books, and went with +Meg to the little summer-house by the lake, and tried +hard to settle down to the tasks Mr. Curtiss, his kindly +tutor, had set him to perform. But all in vain; so he +left the books on the garden seat, putting a stone over +them lest a spiteful puff of wind might blow the +leaves about. Then "Come on, Meg," he cried, "we'll +go for a row." +</p> + +<p> +"Wouff—ff," barked Meg, and away they went. +</p> + +<p> +For a boy of his years Tom was wonderfully well +developed, and when he stripped off his jacket and +rolled up his sleeves, the white forearm he showed +seemed as hard and round as the backstay of a gun-brig. +</p> + +<p> +Meg sat forward in the bows of the little boat, with +her forelegs leaning over the gunwale that she might +bark at the fish and the birds, and make brave +pretence that she meant to jump over and catch +them. +</p> + +<p> +By-and-by Tom came to a winding worm of a stream +or lead that he had some difficulty in navigating his +craft through, but he managed at last, and soon found +himself afloat in one of the most beautiful of all the +Norfolk broads. +</p> + +<p> +The lake was a deep one, and not only plentifully +encircled with tall, reedy bulrushes, but in many +places lined with "wild woods thickening green," and +banks whereon grew the most lovely of wild flowers. +Tom paused often that he might inhale the +early-morning perfume of these wildlings of nature, and +watch the movements of the numerous birds that had +their homes on this peaceful broad. +</p> + +<p> +And not a bird is there among them all that seems +very much afraid of the boy in his little boat or of Meg +either. Perhaps the birds know Tom, for wild creatures +are very observant, and know too that neither he nor +that gentle-faced collie will do them any harm. Indeed +Meg has dropped her bonnie head upon her paws, and +appears to have gone fast asleep. +</p> + +<p> +The sky above is very blue, albeit a fleece-white +cloud is floating here and there, and the waters of this +still lake are very dark, yet clear. How richly, softly +green is the foliage on yon cloudland of trees, how +tender the tints of verdure on the rustling, whispering +reeds. Look at the pink on that flowering +rush, to which a reed-warbler is clinging as it sings +its low, sweet lilt. Only for a few moments does it +cling there, however. It is far too busy to spend all +the morning in song, for the pretty thing has a grass +hammock of a nest swung between some reeds close to +the bank. No boy in the neighbourhood knows where +that nest is save Tom, and he won't touch it, but he +marvels while he admires the freak of nature that has +almost surrounded the birdie's hammock with the bells +of the pink convolvulus. +</p> + +<p> +Hark! there is a nightingale trilling its heaven-taught +song in a thicket not many yards away. How +sharp and clear is every note, and yet how pathetic and +mournful are the lower ones! But presently the bird +ceases to sing, for he too has a mate sitting close at the +foot of a bush in a nest so artfully disguised as hardly +to be discerned, and this little mate needs her breakfast +of succulent slugs and beetles. +</p> + +<p> +"Cheeky—cheeky—chee—chee—chee," sings the +sedge bird, who has far too much to say, and instead +of listening reverently to the song of the nightingale, +the thrush, or the blackbird, must needs put his oar +in and throw harmony quite out of joint. But there +are many other birds that do the same, for each and +all sing for their own mates only. +</p> + +<p> +Very quietly now glides Tom's little boat; very still +the boy sits too, fascinated as it would seem by the +beauty of his surroundings, and as if afraid to disturb +the privacy of the lovely feathered creatures whose +home he has invaded. +</p> + +<p> +He almost holds his breath as a pair of dark-plumaged +coots with white brows go quietly sailing past ahead +of him, gazing at him with their expressive beads of +eyes, but ready to start off at the slightest movement +on his part. A little way farther on are a family of +charming water-hens, that go paddling and nodding on +across the deep dark water, so intent on their own +business that hardly do they notice the slowly-gliding +boat. +</p> + +<p> +But Meg lifts her head to look about her and take +her bearings, and off scurry the coots; the water-hens +too take alarm, and in a moment more all have sought +the shelter of the whispering reeds. +</p> + +<p> +More birds take the alarm here and there among +the sedges; and in the water there is plashing and +whirring and diving, while, uttering a sound that is +partly a croak and partly a cry, a great heron, that +had previously been standing as still as a statue on +the edge of a bank, goes sailing away high in air. +</p> + +<p> +Tom lies on his oars now, and in a few minutes +peace and repose is once more restored to the +reed-bound brood. +</p> + +<p> +"Meg," says Tom quietly, "you just go to sleep there +please, or at least pretend to." +</p> + +<p> +Meg shuts one eye and gives one little wag of her +tail, and the boat forges slowly ahead. Tom pulls +more in towards the edge now, where the flat round +leaves of the water lilies are floating, with flowers +snow-white or brilliant yellow just appearing, where +the flowering ash blooms prettily, and the orange iris +shows against the fresh green of young reeds. +</p> + +<p> +Though it is very early in the morning, the sun is +gaining power, and busy among the gnats and midges +that dance over the water and over the whispering +reeds, filling the air with their dreamy humming, flit +and fly the swallows and martins. They even touch +the surface at times, long enough to drink or have a +little bath, then off and away again, like chips of +lightning with the sunlight on their wings. +</p> + +<p> +Tom lands at last among soft green moss, among +many a budding alder, many a silvery drooping, dwarf +birch-tree, and many a feathery fern. He warns Meg +that she is not to follow, but only lie and watch, while +he goes wading over the marsh. Oh, what beauty and +loveliness on every side! Oh, what a wealth of wild +flowers! Yonder is a bush of yellow furze, and a +rose-linnet's nest is there. The cosy wee mother sits still +on the eggs even when Tom peeps in under her scented +golden roof-tree, but the cock-bird that erst sang so +sweetly on that bush of sallow changes his notes to +a peevish cry of alarm. +</p> + +<p> +Not a nest of any kind of bird that Tom does not +know where to seek and find; the titlark's and skylark's +near tussocks; the yellow bunting's in the low, close +thorn or bank; the sedge-bird's, with its warm wee eggs +and even nests of snipe, and coot, and teal—all are +known to him, but all are sacred. +</p> + +<p> +The boy spends fully an hour roaming around here; +but, getting very hungry, he begins to retrace his steps +at last, yet not before he has culled a bouquet of the +choicest wild flowers, the flowers that uncle Bob loves +best. +</p> + +<p> +In his way back to the boat Tom goes round by a +patch of woodland, a closely-planted thicket of pines, +the tasselled larch, the dark-nodding fir, and the sombre +spruce, each branch of the latter bedecked with points +of tenderest green. He has to pass a reedy pond, +when, as he stoops to gather some pink silenes, he +startles a wild duck that with outstretched wings goes +whirring over the water; there is a wagtail nodding +to him on the opposite bank. High in the air the +skylark sings, from bushes near come the babbling +notes of sedgelings, and soaring over the marsh he can +just distinguish a mire-snipe, its intermittent cries +sounding like bleating of a goat. He crosses a green +bog that moves and heaves under his footsteps, as if +ocean waves were all beneath. And now he enters +the thicket, and a different kind of bird-song falls on +his listening ear—the mellow notes of the blackbird, +the sweet wild lilt of the chaffinch, the mocking voice +of the mavis, and the low mournful love-croodle of +the cushat. +</p> + +<p> +Tom walks through this woodland as solemnly as +if he were in church. He is almost awed by all the +beauty and loveliness he sees around him, and actually +sighs as he stands once more in the open, with the +waters of the reedy broad spread out before him like +a mirror, and only the blue unfathomable sky above. +He reaches the boat at last. +</p> + +<p> +The boat is there right enough, the painter tied to +the alder bush just as he left it, but Meg has gone. +While he is wondering what could have induced her +to leave her post, he hears her glad bark in the distance, +and next minute she comes bounding over the marsh +towards him. +</p> + +<p> +But not alone, for behind her, laden with a huge +and sadly-disorganised bunch or wisp of wild flowers, +comes a little blue-eyed lassie. So large are her eyes, +so small her rosebud of a mouth, that, with her hair +all afloat behind her as she runs, she might easily be +mistaken for the good fairy of this flowery marsh. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, Tom," she cries, "I'm so glad you've come'd!" +</p> + +<p> +"But, dear me, Bertha, what <i>are</i> you doing here so +early?" +</p> + +<p> +One of Bertha's legs is clothed in a pure white +woollen stocking, the foot encased in a buckled shoe; +the other leg, which, laughing roguishly, she extends +for Tom's inspection, is clad in black, slimy mud up to +the knee, and the shoe is gone. +</p> + +<p> +"Such fun," she says, panting a little. "You know, +Tom, I'se been nearly dwownded. And I screamed, +and Meg come running; but I'se lost my shoe, and +perhaps ma will punish me—perhaps not, 'cause she +loves Bertha—sometimes." +</p> + +<p> +"But I'm lost," she added, "and where my home is +<i>I</i> don't know." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, Bertha," said Tom, looking very old and +serious, "I love you always, you know. And when I +grow a big rich man, with a cocked-hat and a sword, +I'll perhaps marry you—if you are good, that is." +</p> + +<p> +Bertha shook her yellow hair rebelliously. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, I can't be always good," she said. "It wouldn't +be fun at all, Tom." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, jump in, Bertha, and Meg and I will take +you right to your own grounds." +</p> + +<p> +Bertha was happy now, and soon began to sing a +little song to herself and Meg. +</p> + +<p> +With the thoughts of the shipwreck on her mind, +somehow the child's singing jarred on the boy's +feelings. +</p> + +<p> +"Bertha," he said, "there was an awful thing +happened last night! A brig was knocked to pieces +on the Gorton Sands, and the dead sailors are all lying +on the beach." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, silly Tom," cried Bertha, laughing, "it isn't +my fault." +</p> + +<p> +Tom didn't know what to reply to this, and Bertha +commenced to sing again. +</p> + +<p> +But the boy and this little light-minded maiden +were very old friends indeed. For Tom was a favourite +with Lady Colmore, and was frequently invited to the +Hall, when her ladyship was there, which she usually +was during the summer and autumn, spending most of +the winter and spring in the south of England, where +her son was at college. +</p> + +<p> +Tom was a gentlemanly boy, and Mr. Curtiss had +informed Lady Colmore that there was some strange +mystery about his birth, which, however, even he was +not altogether acquainted with, though it was in some +way connected with a Jamaica marriage. But this +was quite enough. A boy of manly bearing, and big +dark eyes, evidently of gentle birth, heir, when of +age—as she had heard—to a large fortune, and with a +mystery, was a very interesting character indeed, +despite the additional surmise that his mother might +have been a Creole or half-caste. +</p> + +<p> +Bertha sprang lightly on shore when the boat was +rowed alongside the bank. +</p> + +<p> +"Good-bye, Tom," she cried. "After breakfast me +and Brown'll bring the strawberries to your Uncle +Bob, and then we can all go and see the rows upon +rows of dead men. Such fun! Good-bye." +</p> + +<p> +Next minute Bertha, with her yellow hair and +shoeless foot, had disappeared, and Tom, after a +moment or two of thoughtfulness, made all haste +back home. +</p> + +<p> +In half-an-hour, or a little over, he had once more +moored his boat. Then he hurried away aloft again +to scan the horizon. +</p> + +<p> +Yes, yonder was the sloop—the something naughty +in disguise—she was tacking slowly up to windward, +still about seven or eight miles off, and there was no +yawl near her, so she had not won the race. +</p> + +<p> +This was news to carry to Captain Merryweather, +anyhow. +</p> + +<p> +He found that bluff, good-natured sailor walking +about on the gravel path smoking, early though it +still was. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh," said Tom, saluting him military fashion, "I'm +so sorry to bring you bad news, sir." +</p> + +<p> +"Bad news, youngster? What is it?" +</p> + +<p> +"Well, your sloop, sir—if she <i>be</i> a sloop, sir—is in +sight, and she hasn't caught the yawl!" +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, never mind, Tom! Better luck next." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, sir," said Tom. "I hadn't thought of that, sir." +</p> + +<p> +Ruth now came blushing and smiling to call the +captain to breakfast, and he gallantly took her hand +and led her back to the cottage. +</p> + +<p> +They breakfasted in Uncle Bob's wing, so that he +might join in the conversation. +</p> + +<p> +And breakfast was not long over when Bertha and +her maid Brown came in with that basket of beautiful +strawberries for Uncle Bob. +</p> + +<p> +"What a charming little lady!" said Merryweather, +who had been looking at Bertha. Like most sailors, he +was fond of children. "Come hither, dear, and talk +to me." +</p> + +<p> +Bertha seemed used to obey, for she came at once, +and stood demurely by his side. This pensiveness of +hers, however, did not last long. She and the captain +were soon the best of friends, and he on his part hardly +knew which to admire most, her beauty or her +candour. +</p> + +<p> +"Do you know," he said laughing, "you are very +pretty, Bertha?" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, yes!" she answered, her head a little on one +side, "I know well enough, but mamma says people +are not to tell me so." +</p> + +<p> +"Why, dear?" +</p> + +<p> +"Cause it spoils me, of course." +</p> + +<p> +"Ma doesn't spoil me. No! Everybody else spoils +me, though." +</p> + +<p> +Then she noticed the scar on Merryweather's brow, +and touched it tenderly with her little forefinger. +</p> + +<p> +"Have you been fighting with the cat?" she asked +innocently. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, dear; a big disagreeable old cat." +</p> + +<p> +Seeing her gazing admiringly at the big bunch of +seals that dangled from his fob, he pulled out his gold +watch and placed the whole in her lap. +</p> + +<p> +"Is all this yours?" she asked wonderingly. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, <i>petite</i>." +</p> + +<p> +"Your own <i>own</i> yours?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, my own own." +</p> + +<p> +"And your mamma doesn't take them away, and say, +'By-and-by, dear, when you're grown up'?" +</p> + +<p> +"No, my mamma lets me do as I like." +</p> + +<p> +"How lovely!" She was examining the seals. +</p> + +<p> +"They shall be all yours," said the captain, "all your +own <i>own</i> yours, if you marry me." +</p> + +<p> +"All my own own mine?" Her eyes were bigger +now than ever. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, dear." +</p> + +<p> +"You see," she said thoughtfully, "I'se goin' to +marry Tom; and you is not so pretty as Tom." +</p> + +<p> +"No, he certainly has the advantage of me in good +looks; but then I have so many nice things that +Tom hasn't, you know." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, and you spoil me. Tom doesn't." +</p> + +<p> +"I daresay," she added after a pause, "I mustn't +marry both." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, no! that wouldn't be allowed in this country; +you must decide to have me or Tom." +</p> + +<p> +She looked at Tom, and she looked at the jewels. +</p> + +<p> +"I think," she said at last, "I must marry you, and +poor Tom can marry Brown." +</p> + +<p> +"Hurrah!" cried Merryweather. "What a perfect +little woman it is! Tom, you're jilted. Now, Bertha, +get on my back, and we'll go off out into the sunshine +and spend our honeymoon." +</p> + +<p> +And away they went galloping and rollicking round +the garden paths, and it was evident, from the shouts +of merry laughter, that Bertha thought very little of +her discarded lover. +</p> + +<p> +"Now," she cried at last, "let us all go and see the +lovely dead men, all in rows and rows. Hoor-ay!" +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap0107"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER VII. +<br><br> +THE LAUNCH OF THE "QUEEN OF THE BROADS." +</h3> + +<p> +The men saved from the wreck of the +brig on the Gorton sands were dealt +with in a very summary way indeed. +They were Englishmen all, and were +told by Merryweather that if they chose +to "volunteer" into the service of the +King and serve in the Royal Navy, they should receive +a free pardon; but if not, they must stand the consequences. +</p> + +<p> +Four of the smuggler-sailors volunteered at once +and cheerfully. The fifth was the redoubtable skipper +of the brig, a dark-haired, eagle-eyed little fellow, +little as to stature, but of powerful build, and a +Welshman by birth. +</p> + +<p> +"I refuse," he cried, "to serve your King of England. +He is not a man, but a baboon!" +</p> + +<p> +The words were scarcely out of his mouth before +Merryweather struck him straight from the shoulder, +and down he rolled on the sand. +</p> + +<p class="capcenter"> +<a id="img-076"></a> +<br> +<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-076.jpg" alt=""Merryweather struck him straight from the shoulder, and down he rolled on the sand.""> +<br> +"Merryweather struck him straight from the shoulder, and down he rolled on the sand." +</p> + +<p> +He got up, scowling at the lieutenant, and wiping +the blood and sand from his face. +</p> + +<p> +"Coward!" he hissed, "to treat a prisoner so. But +faugh! it was always the way with the lily-livered +Saxon. See!" he added, "you daren't do it, but for +the gold swab on your shoulder, the sword by your +side, and your hired assassins around you." +</p> + +<p> +Off went Merryweather's coat and his sword. He +flung them to Dan Brundell, who was standing +scratching his head and looking very puzzled. +</p> + +<p> +"These good fellows," he said, "will see fair play +between us. I am no longer lieutenant in the King's +service, but plain Jack Merryweather. Stand forth, +David Jones, and see how soundly a Saxon can thrash +a Welshman." +</p> + +<p> +Jones sprang upon the lieutenant almost before he +had finished the sentence. +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "Like mountain cat that guards its young,<br> + Full at the Saxon's throat he sprung."<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +That Welshman had arms like a gorilla, and +Merryweather was all but strangled before he got +clear away. +</p> + +<p> +"Keep out of grips," shouted his own men. "Fight +fair, skipper, and good luck to you." +</p> + +<p> +He didn't mean to fight fair, however, if he could +help it; but Merryweather got in one with his left +and, figuratively speaking, knocked his man clean +over the ropes. The Welshman never had another +chance. He was no sooner up than down again. +Embracing the soft sands didn't hurt him, it is true; +but Merryweather's fists were rapidly making a +mummy of him. +</p> + +<p> +"I cave in," he cried at last. +</p> + +<p> +"That isn't enough. Do you volunteer?" +</p> + +<p> +"I do, sir," said Jones. "I've never met a harder-fisted +Saxon in my life. Shake hands, Englishman. +I volunteer on one condition." +</p> + +<p> +Merryweather began to spar again. +</p> + +<p> +"No more, thanks," said Jones, smiling grimly. "I +want to serve in your ship when you go to fight the +French. I want to be with a brave man. That is the +condition." +</p> + +<p> +"Granted," said Merryweather, coolly putting on his +coat, "and I won't forget it." +</p> + +<p> +"Neither will I," murmured David Jones; but no +one heard him except Tom. +</p> + +<p> +And just at that moment a bright idea occurred to +young Tom. Why shouldn't he also sail with +Merryweather? He determined to broach it to the kindly +officer as soon as he had an opportunity, and it was +not many weeks before this opportunity came. +</p> + +<p> +All haste was now made to ship the prisoners. +Prisoners now no longer, but brave "volunteers." The +sloop had quietly dropped anchor at the very time the +fight was going on between her commander and the +skipper of the wrecked brig. +</p> + +<p> +Before embarking Merryweather shook hands with +Dan and Ashley, thanking them most heartily for their +hospitality. Then he shook hands with Tom. +</p> + +<p> +"Good-bye, youngster," he said; "but just take my +advice. Don't be a sailor. Stay at home and plough +the fields; be an honest fisherman, be a gardener, a +hedger, or ditcher; but don't come to sea." +</p> + +<p> +Young Tom was astonished at his own boldness as +he made reply: "I shan't be a ditcher, nor a hedger, +nor a gardener, nor a fisherman, and I shan't plough +the fields; but I shall plough the sea." +</p> + +<p> +Merryweather laughed as he leapt into his boat. He +waved his hand again, then away he went, leaving the +people to bury the dead, and pick up the spoils of the +wreck as their reward. +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * * +</p> + +<p> +Tom went off to school that day as usual, though he +was very late. But Mr. Curtiss forgave him. Yet +somehow he could not fix his attention upon either his +books or his sums; and probably, therefore, the curate +was just as glad when lessons were over as the boy was. +He went home more slowly than usual, and less joyfully. +He kept kicking the pebbles as he marched along the +road, a sure sign he was deep in thought, and the first +words he said to Uncle Bob on his return were these, +"I wonder if ever Captain Merryweather will come +again?" +</p> + +<p> +"He is sure to, my lad. He said he would call and +see us. Besides, he has an old shipmate not a great +way off." +</p> + +<p> +"What, another old shipmate as well as you, Uncle Bob?" +</p> + +<p> +"Why, bless your dear heart, boy, I was only a man +before the mast when in the same craft with Mate +Merryweather, but since that time he's been in many a +ship; kicked about like a wet swab. No, Tom, his +friend is an officer and gentleman." +</p> + +<p> +"Where does he live, and what is his name?" +</p> + +<p> +"He lives, my lad, at Wells, or rather near it, at his +old father's parsonage at Burnham Thorpe." +</p> + +<p> +"And with his mother, Uncle Bob?" +</p> + +<p> +"His mother is dead, long, long ago, lad." +</p> + +<p> +"Is he as tall and pretty as Mr. Merryweather?" +</p> + +<p> +"What droll questions you ask, Tom. But I have +never seen Mr. Merryweather's friend. But I am told +that he is but a little man, and very delicate in health." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh! then he isn't a hero like brave Captain +Merryweather. Oh, uncle, you should have seen how he +fought the skipper of the brig; and Mr. Jones didn't +know where to hit, and his nose and mouth were all +blood and sand. I'd like to be a hero like the captain. +What is the little man's name?" +</p> + +<p> +"Horatio Nelson, lad." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh!" said Tom. "It isn't much of a name, is it?" +</p> + +<p> +But from that moment this strange boy seemed to +regain his wonted spirits. He had something to live +for. His hero, Captain Merryweather, who thrashed +the Welshman, was coming back. Hooray! and he +should count the weeks and days till he returned. So +he went about his studies more energetically now, only +one day he told Mr. Curtiss that he must teach him all +he knew about navigation, because a sailor he meant to +be and nothing else. +</p> + +<p> +All that Mr. Curtiss <i>didn't</i> know about navigation +would have filled a big book, only he was a right good +fellow, and determined that he should at least teach +his little pupil the history of the British navy, and the +geography of the world. And I may as well say here, +that these subjects proved of great present interest to +Tom, and of future utility also. +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * * +</p> + +<p> +It was about this period of young Tom's career that +Daddy Dan completed a project he had long had in +view, to give his poor brother Bob a little more interest +and pleasure in life. Dan, it should be remembered, +was a very hard-working man, and seldom either idle +or laid up, so that the building of a private barge for +Bob was work that he could not keep steady at. +Rome, however, was not built in one day. Indeed, I +question if that ancient city was completed in two. +But "every little helps the mickle" you know, reader, +and it is surprising what a deal one can do by degrees, +and day by day. So in the merry month of June, +much to Bob's joy and Tom's delight, the barge, <i>Queen +of the Broads</i>, was all finished and ready for launching. +</p> + +<p> +Little saucy Bertha, who had made it all up again +with Tom, came with her maid Brown to the cottage +to christen the barge with a bottle of gooseberry wine +and she—the ship I mean—left the slips in grand style +and took the water like a duck, amidst the wild huzzas +and hoorays of the children and the neighbours, +who had gathered from all quarters to behold the +ceremony. +</p> + +<p> +The <i>Queen of the Broads</i> was nothing much to look +at, she was square in bows and square in stern, with +no freeboard to speak of; in fact she was a kind of +punt, but so constructed that Uncle Bob's low-wheeled +cot could be run on board and on shore with the +greatest ease, and without the slightest danger. She +had a bit of a mast forward, and a little yawl mast aft, +where there was room enough for quite a party. +Moreover the barge was provided with oars and punting +poles, so it must be confessed she was pretty complete +upon the whole. +</p> + +<p> +Well, after the barge herself was launched, Bob's cot +was launched on board of her, and everything passed +off so beautifully and "lovelily," as Bertha put it, that +once more wild huzzas rose from the assembled +multitude, and Meg, barking and frantic with joy, +jumped on board, and took her place in the bows, +just like a Christian. +</p> + +<p> +Old Daddy Dan was so gratified that he couldn't +speak for some time after the cot was successfully run +on board. He just stood smiling and scratching his +head. +</p> + +<p> +Then everybody gathered round him and shook +hands, and wished him so many good wishes that the +tears rose to his eyes, and he had to swallow a big +lump in his throat before he could make any adequate +reply. +</p> + +<p> +But the day was fine, with a gentle breeze rippling +the broad, and whispering softly among the reeds, and +so with Dan at the helm sail was hoisted, and the +barge glided silently away into the open water. +</p> + +<p> +This was but a trial trip, but it was a very successful +one; everybody, including Bertha and Meg, returned +happy and hungry, and Mrs. Brundell and Ruth, met +them on the quay. +</p> + +<p> +Somebody else as well. You see it never rains but +it pours, and 'there, sure enough, with one arm round +Ruth's waist, as gallantly as you please, and waving +his cocked-hat in the air with the other, stood the +bold Captain Merryweather himself. +</p> + +<p> +You may be sure Tom was glad to see him, and +took no pains to hide his joy either, for his eyes +sparkled like farthing candles, and he turned as red +as a ripe tomato with perfect joy. +</p> + +<p> +Merryweather's "ship" was in the bay, and she had +a consort this time, no other than the smuggling yawl, +which it had taken him a whole fortnight to chase +and secure. So the gallant officer had secured not only +prize money, but several new "volunteers" for the +Royal Navy. No wonder therefore that he was +merry, or that the dinner which was partaken of on +the lawn was—as the lieutenant himself phrased +it—one of the pleasantest meals he had ever partaken of, +either on board ship or on shore. +</p> + +<p> +After dinner Tom volunteered to row Bertha and +her maid home across the broads. But the child +stipulated that Captain Merryweather should come +also, and although this was a heavy cargo for the little +boat, Tom was very glad indeed to have his hero on +board. +</p> + +<p> +Bertha had arranged her flirtations on a basis that +was eminently satisfactory from her own point of view. +When Mr. Merryweather was away at sea Tom was to +have her company, and as much of her affection as +could be spared from her pets and playthings; but +whenever the captain should arrive, then Tom was to +be, for the time being, thrown overboard. +</p> + +<p> +And with this arrangement Tom was obliged to be +content. +</p> + +<p> +Well, Mr. Merryweather, much to the boy's sorrow, +went off that very night, but promised that he would +return in about a fortnight, and then—if Mr. Curtiss +would spare him—would take Tom with him for a +trip to Wells to see +</p> + +<p class="t3"> +HORATIO NELSON. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap0108"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER VIII. +<br><br> +"STAY AT HOME, MY LAD, AND PLANT CABBAGES." +</h3> + +<p class="poem2"> + "The Yarmouth Roads are right ahead,<br> + The crew with ardour burning;<br> + Jack sings out, as he heaves the lead,<br> + On tack and half-tack turning,<br> + 'By the d'p eleven!'"—DIBDIN.<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +It is just one hundred years to-day—June +25th, 1892—since Tom started off +with his friend Merryweather in the +saucy sloop he commanded, on a visit to +the home of the man who in future was +destined to be Britain's greatest naval hero. +The weather was fine, and the short voyage quite +uneventful. +</p> + +<p> +After they landed they had some distance to walk; +but it was early morning, and Tom Bure felt quite +equal to a journey of fifty miles—he told his friend—so +on they marched right cheerily, till they came to +the little village of Burnham Thorpe, and enquired for +the parsonage. It wasn't very far from the +old-fashioned, square-towered church, with its rather +dilapidated looking graveyard. Not a beautiful house by +any means, nor a large one either; little more, in fact, +than an old-fashioned, high-roofed Norfolk cottage, +with an additional wing to it, which latter, seeing the +large family that the clergyman, Horatio's father, +had, was very much needed indeed. +</p> + +<p> +There were plenty of trees of a sort about the place, +however, with flowers and bushes, and a rough attempt +at a lawn, and on the whole the house looked homely, +if not neat. The first to welcome Mr. Merryweather, in +the small and curiously-furnished parlour into which +he was shown, was the old parson himself. That they +had met before was evident even to Tom. +</p> + +<p> +"But, dear me, I'd hardly have known you," said +Mr. Nelson. "Time works such wonders, and, you see, +it has turned me pretty grey. Ah! well, we've got to +work in this world; we'll rest in the next. You'll +stay to dinner, of course. Horatio? Yes; and you'll +find him in the garden doing a bit of work. No, poor +lad, he is far from well, and he frets and fumes and +worries so, I wonder he is alive or so healthy as he is. +You'll find him if you go round. And this bold little +man?" +</p> + +<p> +"A boy whom Horatio will be glad to see for +the sake of old times. He is determined to go to +sea." +</p> + +<p> +"Go to sea, eh! Well, I pity him. Better a +millstone were placed about his neck, and he were cast +into it. But there, I shan't say a word to discourage +the youth." +</p> + +<p> +Merryweather laughed, and went away to look for +Horatio. They had not to walk far to find him. In +an old coat he was; old shoes, old everything, and +looking very serious over his work of digging and +raking some ground from which potatoes had been dug +in order to stick a few cabbages in. +</p> + +<p> +"Shall I run down and ask that old gardener +fellow," said Tom, "where the lad is?" +</p> + +<p> +"What lad?" said Merryweather. +</p> + +<p> +"The sailor. The lad his father spoke about." +</p> + +<p> +"Why, that's our hero. That's the boy himself. +What ho, there, Horatio! What cheer, my hearty?" +</p> + +<p> +Nelson turned towards them, pitched away his spade, +and ran up to shake hands with Merryweather. +</p> + +<p> +A bright smile lighted up his whole face as he did +so. Not a smile from the lips alone, for it went +curling up round his large and expressive eyes, and +seemed to change the contour of his whole countenance. +</p> + +<p> +"Come and sit down, Jack, and sniff the roses. I +heard you had been cruising round here, and doing all +sorts of nasty things to our bold boys of Norfolk, who +can neither get a drop of good rum nor a pinch of snuff +for you. There you are; bring yourself to anchor. +I'll sit on the tub." +</p> + +<p> +"So you expected me?" +</p> + +<p> +"Half-expected you. You always were such an +erratic customer, you know, Jack, that I couldn't be +sure of you. Seen my wife? No. Father's failing, +isn't he? Ah! it hurts me to see it. His companionship, +even more than that of my dear wife, is what +partially reconciles me to this life of inactivity. Mind, +I say more than my wife's society only for one reason—the +young you may meet again, you know; but the +old, ah! never." +</p> + +<p> +Nelson kept rattling on, as Merryweather afterwards +called it, without giving him much chance of putting +an oar in. He would ask questions, and then answer +them himself supposititiously, and go from one subject +to another as quickly as he sometimes put his ship +about in action. +</p> + +<p> +"Egad, Merryweather!" he continued. "After all, +you must consider yourself a very lucky fellow. +While you are bounding o'er the ocean blue, chasing +herring-boats, I'm doomed to—to plant kale. It is +hard—hard—hard, after all I've done." +</p> + +<p> +Here his brows were lowered, and his face became +set and stern. +</p> + +<p> +"But I have enemies at head-quarters, Jack." +</p> + +<p> +"I think, Nelson," said Merryweather, getting in a +sentence edgeways, "your greatest enemy is influence, +or the want of it." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, yes, that's it, I do believe. I'm but a humble +parson's son. I possess few if any great friends. +Merit alone isn't worth a cabbage-stump. Your +lordling, your duke or duckling, your moneyed scoundrel, +your toady, your pimp, can walk into good positions, +while honest men like myself are left to shiver in the +cold. Come, we must change the subject, or I'll get +angry and kick over the tub. I even wrote to the +Admiralty to appoint me to the command of a +cockle-boat, but—no. +</p> + +<p> +"Heaven save me from my friends," continued +Nelson bitterly. +</p> + +<p> +"Your friends, Horace?" +</p> + +<p> +"Ay, my friends. Not men like your honest self, +Jack, but those old-wife fellows, who, by a few careless +words, after dinner, for instance, can do more harm to +a man under the guise of friendship than volumes of +abuse could do. Ah, Jack Merryweather, I've known +a tiny spark light a bigger conflagration than a red-hot +shot. Why, it was only a day after my marriage that +a friend fired off the following remark: 'Poor Horatio +Nelson! Married and done for. And this marriage +loses to the navy one of the brightest and most +promising ornaments. It is a national loss, for +otherwise he might have become the greatest man in the +service.' +</p> + +<p> +"But, Jack, did my marriage prevent my activity? +Did it not rather increase it, just as it did my +happiness? Did I not save to my government and +my country over a million sterling by exposing in the +West Indies the devilments of contractors and +prize-agents who were robbing right and left? +</p> + +<p> +"Burn and sink 'em, Jack; but I'd——." +</p> + +<p> +"Horatio!" +</p> + +<p> +"What, you here, Fanny?" +</p> + +<p> +It was his wife who stood smiling behind him. He +laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, and his whole +demeanour altered in a moment. +</p> + +<p> +"There!" he cried, "I'm glad you've come. Entertain +my friend Jack Merryweather—Jack, my wife—till +I dig away my wrath. These cabbages ought to +go in." +</p> + +<p> +Not only was Jack himself, but even little Tom, +amused at the way Nelson now threw the earth about. +He seemed burying old sores and paying off old scores. +Finally he planted the cabbages, handling them +meanwhile as tenderly as if they had been living, sentient +human beings. Then he came back his smiling old +self to his tub, beside Jack Merryweather. +</p> + +<p> +"What a peevish old hulk you must think me, +Jack!" he said; "but then, you see, I'm not over +well; for really my activity of mind preys upon this +poor, puny bit of a body of mine, because it is the +only fuel within its reach. But who is this modest +but wondering young lad?" +</p> + +<p> +"A sailor born, Nelson." +</p> + +<p> +"I hope not." +</p> + +<p> +"And I hope not too," said Mrs. Nelson. "He +is far too handsome a boy to be wasted on the +service." +</p> + +<p> +"Fanny! Fanny! look at me. Behold the Herculean +proportions of this husband of yours, thrown like +pearls before the pigs." +</p> + +<p> +"Horatio," said his wife, "I won't have you kick +over the tub again, so beware, sir." +</p> + +<p> +"Come hither, youngster." +</p> + +<p> +Tom went over and stood beside Britain's future +hero, and Nelson kindly took his hand and held it as +he looked him in the face. Tom never winced. +</p> + +<p> +"I believe you're a brave boy, and I hope not a bold +one; but who is he, Jack?" +</p> + +<p> +"You've heard speak of Miss Raymond?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes. Old Tom Bure wrote me about her, and +said he was going to marry the most beautiful woman +in all creation." +</p> + +<p> +"And so he did," said Jack. "I was all aflame in +that quarter too; but Tom wed her. Poor Tom is +dead. Died on this very coast." +</p> + +<p> +"And this is young Tom?" +</p> + +<p> +"That is young Tom. Now, as an old sailor, give +him a word of good advice." +</p> + +<p> +"Stay at home, my lad, and plant cabbages." +</p> + +<p> +Merryweather laughed heartily, though Tom felt +ready to cry. But his friend came to his rescue. +</p> + +<p> +"He won't thank you for that advice, and +between you and me, Horace, there are signs in the +air that tell me your days of cabbage planting are +nearly numbered." +</p> + +<p> +"You think I'll be put under the ground myself then?" +</p> + +<p> +"No, not planted that way, but planted on the +quarter-deck of a jolly ship of war." +</p> + +<p> +"Wouldn't I make it hot for the enemy if I were. +But it's too good to come true." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, if I turn out a correct prophet, will you +remember this boy?" +</p> + +<p> +"If he comes to a ship that I command I'll be his +friend for your sake, Jack." +</p> + +<p> +"Aha! Horace, perhaps Jack will be there himself, +then you'll have two to look after." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, Jack, I'll show you both some fun, if the +Frenchmen will but give us a chance." +</p> + +<p> +"Never fear about the chance, my friend. It is +coming; there is something in the air." +</p> + +<p> +"You smell powder, then?" +</p> + +<p> +"I do, and shot as well." +</p> + +<p> +"So glad you've come, Jack. Come along, Tom. +Merryweather, just give Fanny a convoy. Tom and +I want to have a talk. Go right away in and tell +father to commence carving. I'm going to show Tom +a flower." +</p> + +<p> +Ten minutes after the boy came in with a beaming +face, and behind him, looking contented and happy, +walked Horatio Nelson. +</p> + +<p> +Tom forgot to tell his friend Jack Merryweather +what Nelson had said to him, but all the way back to +the shore that evening he could speak of no one else +except the coming hero. +</p> + +<p> +"He is such a dear, nice, good man," he said more +than once, "and I don't care a bit for Bertha now. +That sailor gentleman is so brave and good! But, +Captain Merryweather, you must tell me his story. I +know he has a story, because he has been fighting, and +been at the North Pole too. He said he ran away from +a great bear; but I don't believe that. He was laughing +when he said it." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, Tom, when next we go on the barge with +Uncle Robert, I promise you I'll tell you Nelson's +story; all, at least, that there is of it as yet." +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap0109"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER IX. +<br><br> +HORATIO NELSON'S EARLIER DAYS. +</h3> + +<p class="poem2"> +"The child's the father of the man." +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +The broad or lake on the banks of which +Dan Brundell's property stood in days +of old has diminished considerably in +size since then; but even at that time +it was not very big, while the worm of +a stream, that led therefrom into the +larger and more beautiful lake, presented here and +there difficulties that militated against the easy +navigation of the barge. But Dan was not a man to do +anything by halves, so he hired hands to widen the +stream wherever necessary, and they did so in less +than a week. Tom, with Ruth's assistance, was then +able to guide the barge right away into the large Decoy, +and a new life seemed to open out before Uncle Bob +from the day of his first visit thereto. He even began +to move his fingers more, and there were great hopes +that in time his cure would be complete. Mr. Curtiss's +duties were very light, and he used often to take +Ruth's place in the barge. Then the party would +embark, and on the broad itself and in the barge +Tom's lessons would be conducted; Bob listening +intently, and appearing to be quite as much edified as +the boy himself. +</p> + +<p> +And so the summer wore away, and autumn came +with its tints of yellows and browns, and its darker +and more sombre foliage for the trees. But the fine +weather continued, although there were, of course, dark, +rainy days now and then, which are to be expected +even in sunny Norfolk. +</p> + +<p> +And one fine morning, when Tom was away aloft +in the crow's nest, telling Bob, who lay below, everything +that was going on at sea, he suddenly gave vent +to a wild whoop, that would have made a Sioux Indian +bite his lips with envy. +</p> + +<p> +"The <i>Porcupine</i> is in sight, Uncle Bob. Hooray-ay!" +</p> + +<p> +Bob was quite as much pleased as Tom, for nothing +delighted him more than a talk about old times with +his quondam shipmate. +</p> + +<p> +"Are they bearing up in this direction?" he asked. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, Uncle Bob. On the larboard tack, with the +wind on the quarter, standing in shore-ways." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, Tom, I don't think you can do better than +run and meet him. Take Meg with you; she wants +a run too." +</p> + +<p> +Within an hour Merryweather was standing by his +old shipmate's side, and the very sight of his happy +face seemed to make Uncle Bob the happiest invalid +that ever existed. +</p> + +<p> +Dan came out of the shed in his paper cap to +welcome Merryweather; Meg ran off to the house to +say that somebody had come; and Ruth herself was +very quickly on the spot; so everybody was as jolly +as jolly could be. +</p> + +<p> +After an early dinner, Bob's cot was wheeled on to +the barge, and the young folks, including Meg and +Ruth, went off to spend the afternoon on the beautiful +broad. +</p> + +<p> +The sun was shining very brightly to-day, and an +awning was stretched across the middle part of the +barge. She was anchored in a cosy corner, close to +the tall whispering reeds. Merryweather lit his pipe. +Tom sat down beside Uncle Bob and lit his for him, +while Meg and Ruth curled up in the bows. Then +there was silence for the interminably long space of +fifteen seconds. +</p> + +<p> +"What are you all waiting for?" asked Merryweather, +"and all looking at me for?" +</p> + +<p> +"Why," answered Tom, "you said you would tell us +all you know about Nelson, you know, who is going +to thrash the French, with—with my assistance." +</p> + +<p> +"Bravo, Tom!" cried Bob, "you're made of the +right stuff." +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> +HORATIO NELSON'S EARLIER LIFE. +</p> + +<p> +"Well," said Merryweather, "no one in the service +has been more talked about than my friend Horatio. +Nobody who knows him can help liking him, and yet, +I believe, it is his friends who have caused him to be +overlooked so far. All I know about him has not +been gleaned from any one source, but from dozens, +but being interested in my friend, I have tried to +winnow the chaff of untruth from the solid grains +of fact, and it is these I'm going to serve out to +you." +</p> + +<p> +"Well done!" cried Uncle Bob. "You were always +a regular reefer at spinning a yarn, mate. So heave +round. Cheerily does it, Mr. Merryweather!" +</p> + +<p> +"Well," said Merryweather, "be that as it may, I +first knew Horatio Nelson when my grandmother took +me to that same old-fashioned village of Wells, Tom, +where you and I went the other day, though there +weren't quite so many houses there then. We went +from Cromer in a fishing-boat, and a rough sail I mind +we had. But this was nothing to me. I was a regular +sailor even then, and I wasn't five years of age. I'm +not sure that the rector of Burnham Thorpe wasn't a +distant relation of grandma's; anyhow, I know the +family were very good to us, and I know something +else, namely, that Horatio's father turned out of his +own room that we might have it. There was but little +ceremony in the Rectory; but plenty to eat, without +a superfluity of dainties. That didn't trouble me in +those days; why, I could have eaten a seagull. +</p> + +<p> +"Horatio would be about ten at the time of my visit, +for he is a good five years older than I am. But he +wasn't much of a chap, and I couldn't help thinking, +young as I was, that his grandmother—for he had a +grandma as well as myself—spoiled him. My +grandmother didn't spoil me; but she often spanked me. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, poor lad, he had only recently lost his +mother—about a year before, or thereabout—and this loss, I +think, was the hardest blow to the rector ever he had. +His family was a big one; eleven, if I remember +rightly, and the majority sons. Rough and right +boys they were, and though Horatio was delicate, +there wasn't a bit of the girl about him. He was as +fond of a joke as any lad in creation; but always +tender towards the inferior animals. How he would +have adored a dog like Meg there, for instance! +</p> + +<p> +"I went to school at North Walsham two years after +this, and found young Nelson there. He hadn't +grown much; but he was tough—tough as regards +enduring pain. He had many a thrashing; but he +would purse up his mouth, lower his brow, and never +cry a bit. Our flogger was called Jones, and I need +hardly say he was a Welshman. The only revenge we +could take upon Jones—or rather the bigger boys, for +being but a nipper I shouldn't include myself—was +pretending he couldn't hurt us. That used to make +the Welshman wild. +</p> + +<p> +"Geography, maps, and stories from history, were +young Horace's chief delight in those days. In the +house I mean; out of doors or away on the marsh and +moor, hunting for birds' nests, it was quite another +thing. He seemed born to live in the fresh air, and +I'm sure that it was doing him an injustice and +stunting his growth to keep him poring over old musty +books so constantly. +</p> + +<p> +"I used to visit at the Rectory pretty often after +this, and Horatio's grandmother had always something +to tell about him, that redounded to his credit. But +she never told the same story twice the same. +</p> + +<p> +"'Horace is such a brave lad,' she would say, 'I +don't believe he knows what fear is!'" +</p> + +<p> +"And she would go on to exemplify this in a dozen +different ways. 'And he is a God-fearing boy too,' +she would add. +</p> + +<p> +"This last I could well believe. His father is one +of the most simple-minded Christians I ever met. +His faith is like that of a little child. +</p> + +<p> +"But about his not knowing what fear was I always +had my doubts. However, there was one boy whom +Horace had invited to the Rectory for a few days, and +who used to spin wonderful yarns to the old lady about +her grandson's pluck and courage. But he rather +overdid the thing, and he didn't always blend piety with the +bravery he imputed to Horace. For instance, he told +his grandma that at Downham Market, where he +and Horace were at school, there was a nasty snarly +old woman who used to paddle through the muddy +streets on high pattens, knitting stockings and mumbling +to herself. The boys used to imitate her, when off +would come one of the pattens, which she threw like +a boomerang, and always hit some of them. But one +day Horace, who happened to be in the crowd, coolly +picked up the patten, and marching home with it put +it in the fire. The old creature had to limp to her +house in one patten, and she never threw another. A +very limp yarn, I thought, and one that was so little +appreciated that Horace was told not to bring that +lying boy back again to the Rectory. +</p> + +<p> +"Of course, all brave, good boys rob an orchard, +because the others are afraid; and, of course, they never +eat any of the apples themselves. Oh, no! Whenever, +Tom, you hear a story of this kind, you are safe +enough to put it down as a grandmother's yarn. +</p> + +<p> +"Independent, however, of my friend Horatio's love +of freedom and stories of the sea, he was a thinking +lad, and he couldn't but notice that his father had +more than enough to do in supporting so large a family +in a semi-genteel way. He thought of this, and made +up his mind to go to sea. If he couldn't go as a +young officer he would go as a cabin boy, in the +old-fashioned style. But he had an uncle in the navy—a +rough and right true blue sailor, Captain Suckling—and +Horace induced his father to write to him in his +behalf. +</p> + +<p> +"The reply came pat enough, and I have seen it. +'What on earth has poor little Horatio done,' the letter +ran, 'so weak a boy that he, above all the rest, should +be sent to rough it out at sea? Well, let him come, +and the very first time we go into action a cannon-ball +may knock his head off, and so at once provide for +him.'" +</p> + +<p> +"There was a rough kind of jocularity in this; but +for all that Captain Suckling was a kindly-hearted +man. +</p> + +<p> +"And now, young Nelson was destined for the +sea. He had only to wait. He returned to the +Walsham school, and in the spring of 1771, one +miserable, drizzly morning—such a morning as gives +one the shivers to think of getting up—a man came +from the Rectory to take poor Horace away. +</p> + +<p> +"Were those tears, I wonder, in his eyes, as he said +'good-bye' to us all? I think they were, and I know +that as he got together his small belongings he did not +speak much, and was so nervous that some of us helped +him; but I'm sure we didn't envy him. +</p> + +<p> +"His ship was the <i>Raisonnable</i>, 64 guns, his captain +Maurice Suckling, and Horace was rated as middie. +To add to his small outfit, and see him on the way, his +father went with him as far as London, then the poor +boy had to bundle and go all by himself to Chatham, +off which his ship was lying. +</p> + +<p> +"Horace has told me that the misery of arriving in +that strange, busy port, all friendless and alone, was +about the most acute ever he suffered in his life. +There were scores, ay hundreds, of ships there, +hundreds, ay thousands, of bluejackets and marines +in the slushy streets, revelling, drinking, brawling, and +fighting. He was hustled by dockyard-men, he was +mocked and laughed at by women of the bare-headed +class; cold, damp, and hungry, yet no one knew or +cared where the <i>Raisonnable</i> lay. When he asked some +sailors if they knew Captain Suckling, they suggested +his standing a flowing can and they'd soon find out. +</p> + +<p> +"Young Horace was hesitating what to do, when a +stern voice shouted, 'Gangway, lads.' The men saluted +and made room at once, and here, with his sword under +his arm, stood a tall naval officer. +</p> + +<p> +"'Captain Suckling, my boy? I know him well. +Come along with me.' +</p> + +<p> +"He led poor hungry Horace, not to his ship, but to +his own quarters in the dockyard, and gave him a good +dinner, asking him many questions about his life in +the country, his father and brothers and sisters. He +finished off by saying— +</p> + +<p> +"'Well, whatever brings some boys to sea I can't +tell, though I was a boy myself once upon a time. +Never mind, lad, I'll see you off, else the rascally +boatmen will cheat you.' +</p> + +<p> +"The <i>Raisonnable</i> lay well off in the middle of the +tideway, and braced up by the good dinner he had +eaten, he began to think a sailor's life was just the +thing for him after all. Besides, with her frowning +red-muzzled guns, her tall and tapering spars, and +spider-web of rigging, the frigate was a noble sight. +Then there were the neatly-arranged hammocks over +the bulwarks, a flash of crimson here and there, and +here and there the glitter of a bayonet. +</p> + +<p> +"Horace got in over the port or larboard side, up a +rope ladder, and his box was hauled up after him. +</p> + +<p> +"Then he stood there, alone in a crowd, for many an +interminably long minute. No one took any more +notice of him than if he'd been a bag of biscuit. Nor +did Horace know what to do, or what to say, or whom +to address. +</p> + +<p> +"He spoke to a man in a dark blue jacket at last, +and called him 'sir.' It was only the doctor's servant, +but he answered him kindly, and in due time he found +his way to the cock-pit, and was afterwards bundled +into his own mess—the gunroom. +</p> + +<p> +"Captain Suckling did not join for days after this, +so Horace had to fight his first battles single-handed. +Bloodless battles no doubt they were, for Horace was +but a weakly lad at this time, and but ill able to play +that game of fisticuffs which, Tom, I think you will +admit I played with some skill that day when the +Welsh giant, David Jones, challenged me to mortal +combat on the sands of Yare. +</p> + +<p> +"No, poor Horace at this time, you must remember, +was only newly cut loose from his grandma's apron-strings. +But, Bob, your pipe is out. Tom, my hearty, +light Uncle Bob's pipe before I put another spoke in +the wheel." +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap0110"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER X. +<br><br> +"I WILL BE A HERO, AND TRUSTING TO PROVIDENCE<br> +BRAVE EVERY DANGER." +</h3> + +<p class="poem2"> + "Avast! nor don't think me a milksop so soft<br> + To be taken, for trifles, aback;<br> + For they say there's a providence sits up aloft,<br> + To look after the life of poor Jack."—DIBDIN.<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +"There is one trait in my friend Horatio's +character," continued Mr. Merryweather, +"that I think is prominent enough, and +that is decision. Mind you, Tom, lad, +I like it in a certain way, but it may +lead one wrong at times. But nevertheless, +it is better to leap than flounder in a bog, +and if you've got to do a thing there's no time +like the present. If ever Horace <i>did</i> rob an +orchard—and I rather think he did more than once—I feel +certain he didn't hang about long before commencing +operations, that he didn't wait to see whether the +farmer's wife was having a walk in the garden, or +whether Bouncer, the dog, was tied up or not. No, +Horace is a bad hand at waiting. He wasn't long +in the navy, however, before he found out it was +pretty nearly all waiting, that the youngsters or +griffins had to wait on their elders, and the elders to +wait on those older still. Even the captain himself +has to wait, and very often in vain, for promotion. +Horace, poor fellow, expected to find as much courtesy, +sympathy, and kindness in the behaviour towards +each other of the junior officers of ships in the navy +as was displayed among his brothers in his happy and +well-regulated home. Alas! he was sadly disappointed. +He found roughness and brutality displayed on deck, +between decks, fore and aft, and a good deal in the +wardroom as well as in the gunroom. If he expected +to meet with young gentlemen full of zeal for the +service, burning with a desire to serve their king and +country, or even to die, if need be, for their fatherland +on the blood-stained battle-deck, he was terribly +disappointed. If he expected even to find naval affairs +discussed at all in his mess, again he was disappointed. +If ambition dwelt in the hearts of the young fellows +he found around him, they kept it to themselves. It +was every man or lad for himself, and 'hang the +service'; 'hang superior officers'; 'hang etiquette'; +'hang fine language'; 'hang—hang everything'; only +let the beef and the biscuit have a fair wind, and if +anybody smaller wanted the beef first, let him wait or +have a dig in the eye. <i>Meum</i> and <i>tuum</i>? There were +no such words, except in the Latin dictionary. If you +had anything to eat, <i>I</i> must have a bit, if 't were +only an oyster, that is, if I were bigger than you, or +harder in the shell and in the fist. +</p> + +<p> +"So Horace, who was really a tender-hearted +boy, although ambitious, saw nothing but roughness +around him, and not a little sin. That he soon was +sick of all this goes without saying—that he was +not polluted by the filth among which he had fallen +is a marvel, but he never did forget his father's +teaching, nor the prayers he had learned at his +mother's knee. +</p> + +<p> +"When my friend, then, joined the <i>Raisonnable</i>, +there were reasonable expectations that he would soon +see a little fighting, from the fact that the Spaniards +were cutting up rough about a certain harbour in +the Falkland Islands. Britain wanted that harbour; +Britain was a bigger boy than Spain, and a bigger +bully—always has been, and ever will be—so Britain +threatened to punch Spain's head if Spain didn't hand +over the harbour, quietly as well as quickly. Spain +did so, and after five months of waiting in the 64-gun +frigate, she was put out of commission; the boy's +uncle, Captain Maurice Suckling, was appointed to the +<i>Triumph</i> for harbour service in the Medway, and as +this did not suit Horace, who was burning to be on +blue water, his captain sent him on a voyage to the +West Indies, in a small ship commanded by John +Rathbone, who had served in the <i>Dreadnought</i> as +master's mate, until he had either got sick of the +service, or the service had got sick of him. +</p> + +<p> +"Nevertheless, it seems that Horatio got better on +with 'old Rathbone,' as he somewhat irreverently +styled him, than with his uncle Maurice, or rather +with the idle dandies on board the guardship <i>Triumph</i>. +Rathbone succeeded in making a man of him, for, +mind you, Tom, even a boy can be a man—at heart. +</p> + +<p> +"Perhaps Horace roughed it considerably in +Rathbone's ship. He doesn't say much, but I'll warrant +you it was 'away aloft to reef topsails' on many a +dark and stormy night. +</p> + +<p> +"When my friend Horace returned, he was a sailor +every inch, 'every hair a rope-yarn, every finger a +fish-hook.' +</p> + +<p> +"Indeed Horatio himself says, in speaking about this +cruise in the merchant service, 'If I didn't improve +much in my education during the voyage, I came back +a practical seaman, with a horror of the Royal Navy, +and with a saying then very common among sailors, +"Aft the most honour, for'ard the best man." It was +many weeks before I got in the least reconciled to a +man-o'-war, so deep was the prejudice rooted, and the +pains taken to instil this erroneous idea in my young +mind.' +</p> + +<p> +"Well, anyhow, when Horace returned from his +delightful cruise in the West Indiaman, he came once +more under the lee of his uncle Maurice, of H.M.S. <i>Triumph</i>. +This gentleman, with most disinterested +kindness, did all he could—though for a time with +only partial success, to reconcile young Horace to +man-o'-war routine. As a reward for services done, +and attention to his duties, he was allowed to go +piloting in the decked long-boat or cutter to the +commanding officer's quarters at Chatham, and from +Chatham, sometimes round to the North Foreland, or +up stream to the Tower of London itself. +</p> + +<p> +"But Horace stuck manfully to his duties, and +gradually came to love the Royal Navy. +</p> + +<p> +"It was in the year 1773, if my memory serves me +well, that an expedition was set on foot to visit the +North Pole, or, in other words, to find out how far +north the sea was navigable in a northern direction. +</p> + +<p> +"Two ships were commissioned for this purpose, +namely, the <i>Racehorse</i>, Captain C. J. Phipps, and the +<i>Carcass</i>, Captain Lutwidge. +</p> + +<p> +"It was the <i>Carcass</i> to which, much to his joy, +Horatio was appointed. In the old <i>Triumph</i> he had +first been rated as captain's servant, then promoted to +midshipman, and it was as captain's coxswain he +joined the <i>Carcass</i>. +</p> + +<p> +"His seamanship—learned, be it remembered, in the +West Indiaman—came well to the front now. He +was permitted to take his trick at the wheel, and +steered the ship safely through very heavy ice. The +ship, however, had the misfortune to get frozen in, and +the wonder is ever she got back to tell her tale. +</p> + +<p> +"Horatio is very reticent as to his adventures in +Polar seas, but he told me that he was severely +reprimanded for disobeying orders. He followed a bear +into a position of imminent danger, for Horace not for +the bear. He says his gun missed fire, and that he +thought he might as well try to brain the beast with +the butt end. The bear seemed not at all reluctant to +be brained, for he came boldly on to meet the boy who +was to perform the operation. No doubt, this +particular bear had the utmost confidence in the +thickness of his own skull, and if a well-directed +bullet had not caused him to change his mind and +sheer away on another tack, Horace would never again +have planted cabbages in his father's garden at +Burnham Thorpe. (That bear's skin, by the way, Horatio +had meant to give to his father as a Christmas present). +</p> + +<p> +"Well, on the paying-off of the <i>Carcass</i>, which, with +her consort, got safely back to England, Horace, who, +although only fifteen, was an out-and-out able seaman, +was recommended for service to Captain Farmer of +the <i>Seahorse</i>, a smart and saucy craft of twenty guns. +He was a watch-and-watch seaman of the foretop now, +but Farmer soon recognised his ability, and so he was +promoted to the quarter-deck and made one of the +midshipmen. +</p> + +<p> +"Not only that, but he was allowed to carry on the +duty, and crack on too when he pleased—in fact he +was, to all intents and purposes, a naval officer. His +cruising ground was now the Indian Ocean and all +round about there. But in eighteen months his health +began to break down, owing, not so much to the badness +of the climate, he told me, as to the beastliness of +the beef and evil disposition of the water. +</p> + +<p> +"So he was transferred to the <i>Dolphin</i>, and in this +ship returned for a spell to his native land." +</p> + +<p> +"Not interrupting you, Mr. Merryweather," said +Bob, "mightn't you tell Tom about the gallant end +poor Captain Farmer had?" +</p> + +<p> +"Ah! that was sad enough, though it was gallant, +Bob," said Mr. Merryweather. "I hadn't meant to +mention it, but here goes— +</p> + +<p> +"It was on the fatal sixth of October, 1779, that +bold Captain Farmer, in the fine old frigate <i>Quebec</i>, of +thirty-two guns, sighted <i>La Surveillant</i>, off Ushant. +</p> + +<p> +"This ship carried forty guns, and was more heavily +manned, as well as more heavily metalled, than the +<i>Quebec</i>. That didn't signify to Farmer. The drum beat +merrily to quarters, and at it the two ships went +pell-mell. +</p> + +<p> +"It was a long and terrible struggle, lasting for +over three hours and a half. Both vessels were utterly +dismantled. Unfortunately in the struggle the sails +of the <i>Quebec</i>, shot down by the enemy, caught fire by +falling over the guns, and very soon the whole ship was +wrapped in flames. +</p> + +<p> +"The brave Captain Farmer however, although grievously +wounded, refused to surrender, and was blown up +with his ship, the colours flying defiantly till the last. So +that was the glorious but terrible end of poor Farmer." +</p> + +<p> +Merryweather paused here for a minute or two, +busying himself in refilling his pipe. +</p> + +<p> +No one spoke, however; for even Meg seemed to +know that his story was not finished. +</p> + +<p> +The midges danced above the quivering reeds, the +twittering martins went skimming to and fro, there +was a hum of insect life in the air, and all nature +seemed rapt in blissful content. +</p> + +<p> +"On so lovely a day," said Merryweather at last, "I +am loth to sadden my yarn by any allusion to death or +to gloom, but the truth must be told, else you, Tom, +and you, Bob, will not understand my friend Horace's +inner character, and it is the mind, you must +remember, that prompts our every action. +</p> + +<p> +"It was on board the <i>Dolphin</i>, then, on her homeward +voyage, that Horatio Nelson first learned to think. +The passage was not a pleasant one, for the ship was +badly found. There were many men ill on board +as well as Nelson, and it was the thoughts of getting +back to merry England that kept those poor fellows +hopeful and alive. +</p> + +<p> +"When one is sick and ill, especially if tossed about +on the ocean wave, one cannot help feeling both +despondent and weary. Hear what Horatio himself +says about this: +</p> + +<p> +"'I felt impressed,' he writes, 'with the idea that I +should never rise in my profession. My mind was +staggered with a view of the difficulties I had to +encounter and the little interest I possessed. I could +discover no means of reaching the object of my +ambition. After a long and gloomy reverie, in which +I almost wished myself overboard, a sudden flow of +patriotism was kindled within me, and presented my +king and my country as my patrons. "Well then," I +exclaimed, "I will be a <i>hero</i>, and, trusting to Providence +will brave every danger."' +</p> + +<p> +"That then, Tom, was the resolve my good friend +made when still a boy. The thought of being a hero +was the star that guided him on, and that will, I trust, +guide him still to victory; for that he is the coming +man I have not a doubt. +</p> + +<p> +"But, lads, I can, I think, read Horatio's mind even +better than he can do himself. You see, it was in the +hour of sickness and gloom he made this firm resolution. +He could not help remembering that he was but +of puny frame, though with a mind fitted for a far +stronger body. He might be cut down by disease at any +time. What bolder or better resolve therefore could +he make than to give his life to his king or country, +be it long, be it short. If short it were doomed +to be, the more deeds of heroism he could crowd into +it the better. 'Let us work while it is called to-day, for +the night cometh when no man can work.' These were +the words on which his father once preached a sermon, +and lying in his weary hammock Horatio remembered +them. They gave him hope, they helped to raise his +spirits, and with this new-born hope came strength and +happiness. And so far as he has had it in his power +Horatio has kept his resolve, but now that he is +lying on his beam ends at Burnham Thorpe, is it any +wonder that he chafes and fumes? He told me he felt +as if standing high and dry on a rock beholding a ship +on the sea-ridden sands, and powerless to help; for, he +added, 'Am I not witnessing the shipwreck of all my +hopes and ambition?'" +</p> + +<p> +"Pardon me, mate," said Bob, "but you've kind o' +drifted away from your story. Your friend Nelson +didn't come straight away from the <i>Dolphin</i> to his +father's parsonage. He hasn't been planting cabbages +there since '76, I'll lay a wager." +</p> + +<p> +"No, Bob, no. Thank you for bringing me up with +a round turn and holding me with a clove hitch. Just +let me, however, make one digression, Bob, and I'll go +ahead again right cheerily with my yarn. You've just +spoken, Bob, about laying a wager. When you get +well, Bob, as I trust you will, let me tell you that +the less you have to do with wagering or betting +the better. Horatio tells me that when still in his +teens he one night sat up playing cards till very late. +He thinks now that the devil must have sat by his side, +tempting him and leading him on to good luck, for +during the whole evening his winnings, and the 'devil's +picture-books' that he held in his hand, were all he +thought about. Duty, resolution, ambition itself, were +in abeyance, were far away from his thoughts. And +he rose up from the table at last, flushed and excited, +the winner of £300! 'You'll play to-morrow night, +too,' the devil appeared to whisper to him, and he +appeared to promise. +</p> + +<p> +"But with the morrow came reflection. 'Oh!' he +thought, 'what, if instead of winning, I had lost. I, +without money to pay? Horrible! I should have +been broken, ruined, disgraced, and my father—I will +never touch a card again.' +</p> + +<p> +"Nor has he, Tom. +</p> + +<p> +"You see the devil doesn't always have his own way +in this world, no matter how alluring the bait may be +that he dangles before the eyes of his would-be victims. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, then, young Nelson's next vessel was the +46-gun ship the <i>Worcester</i>. And with kindly Mark +Robinson as his captain, he sailed for Gibraltar across +the stormy Bay of Biscay. +</p> + +<p> +"Stormy then at all events, for the wind rose and +the billows were houses high. It was indeed a fearful +night, what with guns broken loose from their +moorings, with racing shot and shifting ballast, with +boats and bulwarks broken, with rent and riven +canvas, there were few on board who hoped to see the +morning light. +</p> + +<p> +"It had been the old, old story—a ship hurried away +to sea before things were properly stowed and everything +made ship-shape, with a half-drunken crew, and +officers wild with rage because the duty could not be +carried on as they desired it. Ah! many and many a +good ship has the stormy bay swallowed up at darkest +midnight from causes such as these. +</p> + +<p> +"But the <i>Worcester</i> weathered the storm, and Captain +Robertson was not slow in telling his officers they had +done their duty in this trying time, like Hearts of Oak +or British sailors. +</p> + +<p> +"Above all he thanked young Horatio. +</p> + +<p> +"'I shall have quite as much confidence in you in +future,' he told him, 'as in any one of my older officers, +and, indeed, I shall feel quite easy in my mind when +you are on deck. You are a man in actions if not in +years.' +</p> + +<p> +"No wonder Nelson's face glowed with pleasure and +shyness combined to hear these words of praise. +</p> + +<p> +"For, Tom, your brave man is ever shy to some degree. +</p> + +<p> +"We next find Nelson passing his examination as +lieutenant, which he did with flying colours. His +uncle, Captain Suckling, was the chief officer on the +examining board, nor did he spare his nephew. +</p> + +<p> +"At the conclusion of the examination he put the +usual question to the other officers. +</p> + +<p> +"'Are you satisfied, gentlemen?' +</p> + +<p> +"'I am more than satisfied,' said a senior. +</p> + +<p> +"'Hear, hear,' from all the others. +</p> + +<p> +"Then Horatio was called in, and informed gravely +that he had sustained the examination. +</p> + +<p> +"'And now,' added the kindly-hearted Captain +Suckling, 'let me introduce you to my nephew. My +nephew, Horatio Nelson, gentlemen.' +</p> + +<p> +"They were taken aback. +</p> + +<p> +"'But why,' they asked, 'didn't you let us know this +before?' +</p> + +<p> +"'Well,' replied the bluff old uncle, 'I was afraid +that, had I done so, you might have favoured him. I +felt convinced he would pass a good examination, and +you see, gentlemen, I have not been disappointed.' +</p> + +<p> +"Right heartily then every officer on that board +shook young Nelson by the hand, and hoped he would +be an honour to the glorious old flag under which they +all served their king and country. +</p> + +<p> +"The very next day Nelson was made second-lieutenant +of the <i>Lowestoft</i>, which after a time sailed +for the West Indies. +</p> + +<p> +"Nelson during the voyage became a great favourite +with the captain, owing to the prompt way he obeyed +all his instructions and carried on the duty. +</p> + +<p> +"One day an American privateer hove in sight, and +the first-lieutenant was ordered to board and capture +her. However, the sea was so high and stormy that he +lost heart, and returned to the frigate. The captain was +wild with rage. 'Is there,' he cried, 'an officer in this +ship who can make a prize of that letter of marque?' +</p> + +<p> +"Both Nelson and the master stepped up at the +same time. But Nelson had the honour, and honour it +proved. He not only reached the privateer, but boarded +and carried her, although the waves really were so +high that the boat was washed over the Yankee. +</p> + +<p> +"Horatio was a greater favourite now than ever +with good Captain Locker." +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap0111"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER XI. +<br><br> +"THERE'S A STORM BREWING, AND YOU'LL BE IN IT, TOM." +</h3> + +<p class="poem2"> + "D'ye mind me, a sailor should be every inch<br> + All as one as a piece of the ship,<br> + And with her brave the world without offering to flinch,<br> + From the moment the anchor's atrip.<br> + Even when my time comes, ne'er believe me so soft<br> + As with grief to be taken aback,<br> + For the same little cherub that sits up aloft,<br> + Will look out a good berth for poor Jack."—DIBDIN.<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +"The <i>Lowestoft</i>," continued Merryweather, +"arrived at Jamaica, and a proof was +given now that Captain Locker was a +true friend to Nelson. For knowing +that he was running over with zeal for +the service, he had him appointed to a +separate command. Though, had the captain consulted +his own wishes, he would much have preferred having +the bold young lieutenant with himself. +</p> + +<p> +"In the saucy wee schooner, <i>Little Lucy</i>, Nelson could +lord it on his own quarter-deck, monarch of all he +surveyed, and, in his own words, he made himself a +complete pilot of all the passages through the islands +situated to the north of Hispaniola. +</p> + +<p> +"My friend's next preferment—through the interest +of Locker—was to the third lieutenancy of the flagship +<i>Bristol</i>, under Admiral Parker. But he was after a +time promoted to the rank of first lieutenant. During +his cruise in the <i>Bristol</i>, though Nelson himself says +but little about it, he was not idle, and undoubtedly +did his share of the duty of capturing no less than +seventeen sail belonging to the enemy. +</p> + +<p> +"Then Horace was appointed to the command of an +old-fashioned, sturdy brig called the <i>Badger</i>, and was sent +off to the coast of Mosquito and Bay of Honduras, to +make it hot for the swarms of Yankee privateers that +were cruising around there on the outlook for British +shipping. +</p> + +<p> +"I fear, Bob, that if I told you how excellently well +young Nelson performed the duties required of him, +you would imagine I was trying to make my friend +too much of a hero; but if he joins our service, +Tom will soon know that the Admiralty considers the +performance of duty no act of heroism, however well +it is done. But Nelson protected the settlers on this +coast so faithfully and well, that he was not only +admired, but in reality adored by them. +</p> + +<p> +"It was while still in the <i>Badger</i>, and lying in Montago +Bay, that the <i>Glasgow</i>, a 20-gun vessel, arrived. In +about two hours' time she was wrapped in vast sheets +of flame, and it was only through the extraordinary +exertions of Nelson, aided by Captain Lloyd himself, +that the crew were saved. Nelson, in speaking of the +disaster, gives Captain Lloyd his due meed of praise. +But he deserved it. There was one man on board the +poor <i>Glasgow</i> who richly deserved flogging first and +hanging afterwards; this was the steward." +</p> + +<p> +"Was he flogged and hanged?" said Tom. +</p> + +<p> +"I don't know, lad. I expect he was flogged at the +very least. The scoundrel had gone to steal rum for +himself and mates from the after hold. He succeeded +in capsizing a cask of rum, and setting fire to it with +the purser's dip he carried. +</p> + +<p> +"Now the <i>Glasgow</i> was laden with gunpowder, and +Captain Lloyd knew that if she blew up, not only +would every one on board perish, but the magazines +and warehouses on shore would also be destroyed. He +immediately called all hands therefore, declaring that +until every cask of powder was had up and thrown +into the sea, not a man should leave the ship. +</p> + +<p> +"The crew, who dearly loved their honest Welsh +commander, obeyed his instructions, and saved +themselves and him from a fearful death. +</p> + +<p> +"Then Nelson came to the rescue, and the crew were +got off before the charred timbers sank hissing in the +waves. +</p> + +<p> +"On the 28th of April, '79, my friend Horace, in his +bold brig <i>Badger</i>, carried and captured <i>La Prudente</i>. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, Tom, I haven't time to tell you all Nelson's +brave deeds in the West Indies, and indeed I do not +remember half of them, but about this time both +France and Spain, you know or ought to know, were +at war with Britain, and what with having now no +men from America, we were not only rather +short-handed, but somewhat short of ships, and by way of +encouraging good men and officers to join the service, +Prince William Henry became a midshipman, and +many more of the scions and offshoots of nobility +followed his example. +</p> + +<p> +"Nelson received his post-captaincy, and Collingwood* +became commander of the <i>Badger</i>. Horace was +appointed to the <i>Hinchinbrook</i>, and during the cruise +with the <i>Major</i> and <i>Penelope</i> took many prizes. +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="footnote"> +* Afterwards Lord Collingwood. +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +"But now, at the age of twenty-one, Horace had +still higher promotion, for, as it was expected that +the French admiral, Count d'Estainy, would attack +Jamaica in force, he was appointed to the command +of the batteries of Fort Charles, at Port Royal. +</p> + +<p> +"But this bold count did nothing, and did it well. +</p> + +<p> +"Nelson's next service was one of great importance. +General Sir John Balling had formed a plan for an +expedition against Fort St. Juan, in the Gulf of +Mexico, and the sea operations were entrusted to +Horace. +</p> + +<p> +"It was the object of this expedition, by taking the +fort and obtaining command of the Rio San Juan, +running between the lake Nicaragua and the Atlantic, +to obtain possession of the cities of Granada and Leon, +and thus cut the communication of the Spaniards +betwixt their northern and southern possessions in +America. +</p> + +<p> +"My friend's duty was the conveyance of the +transports and the landing of the troops. +</p> + +<p> +"But Nelson was not to be satisfied with so simple +a share of the honour and glory of this expedition, +and both Sir John and Captain Polson, of the 60th, +testified in words of burning admiration to the great +skill and indomitable energy of poor Horace. 'He +was the first,' says Polson, 'on every service, whether +undertaken by day or by night, and hardly a gun was +pointed that was not laid by himself or by Lieutenant +Despard.'* +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="footnote"> +* Twenty years after this, Despard was tried and executed for +high treason with six of his fellow conspirators. He was, +nevertheless, a brave and daring, though misguided man. +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +"It was a sad expedition this from beginning to end. +The game, indeed, was hardly worth the candle; but +Nelson was its real head. He not only landed with +the men, and led them on to death or glory, but piloted +them up the river, and took port after port from the +astonished Spaniards, and all this in a climate so +unhealthy, so rotten and malodorous, that pestilence +was a greater foe to success than the resistance offered +by the enemy. For on the march men fell dead in the +ranks, others were poisoned by water, they were short +of provisions, being forced to kill and eat monkeys, +while several were killed by serpents. Not since +the days of old Spanish buccaneering had any troops +suffered as did those with bold Nelson. He says +himself he carried troops a hundred miles up the river, +he boarded the enemies' outposts situated on an island +in the river, and made batteries and afterwards fought +them, and was a principal cause of the success that +attended our operations. +</p> + +<p> +"Was it any wonder that in a place so pestilential +fever broke out? It was fearful, Tom. I should not +talk about such things to-day, but in Nelson's ship of +200 men, 87 were seized and confined to their beds in +one night, and 145 were buried there, only ten men +surviving the terrible expedition. +</p> + +<p> +"Nelson himself was nearly dead, and but for the +kindness of Sir Peter Parker, who appointed him to +the 44-gun frigate <i>Janus</i>, at Jamaica, he would doubtless +have succumbed. But even the tender nursing of +Lady Parker and her little girl on shore was unable to +restore my friend to health, and on the first of +September, '80, he sailed for England with Captain +Cornwallis. +</p> + +<p> +"He lay ill for a year at Bath, and was then sent on +a winter's cruise to Elsinore to protect the homeward +trade. This cruise was but little relished by Horace, +who rightly thought that his service in the West +Indies, where he fought so well and so nearly lost his +life in the service of king and country, deserved +higher recognition. +</p> + +<p> +"In '82 Horace sailed with a convoy of traders for +Newfoundland, in his ship <i>Albemarle</i>. +</p> + +<p> +"One clever action out there can be laid to Nelson's +credit. It should be remembered that he was a perfect +sailor and pilot. When chased, therefore, by three of +the French ships of the line and the <i>Iris</i> frigate whilst +cruising off Boston, and finding they were coming up +with him hand-over-hand, he boldly sought the shoals. +The frigate alone could follow, and Nelson made all +preparation to fight her, but the <i>Iris</i> refused to accept +the challenge, and sheered off. +</p> + +<p> +"Horace next took a convoy to New York, and there +he joined the fleet under Lord Hood. Here he was +introduced to the Duke of Clarence—Prince William—and +each found in the other a true-blue seaman and +British sailor. +</p> + +<p> +"On the return of the fleet, Lord Hood took Nelson +to St. James' Palace, where he had the high honour of +an introduction to the King. And, to use the words +of Scripture, Tom, he found 'favour in the King's +sight,' though there wasn't much to boast of in that. +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * * +</p> + +<p> +"Peace was concluded with France in '83, and in +July of that year Nelson was placed on half-pay. +</p> + +<p> +"He next went to France—not to learn to dance +Tom, but to improve his knowledge of the language. +He, however, managed to fall over head and ears in love +with a clergyman's daughter—a Miss Andrews. Many +a ship and many a fort had my friend captured, and +now, lo and behold, he himself had to haul down his +flag to a girl. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, he would have died for her I doubt not, but +she would not marry him. She showed bad taste in +my opinion, Bob, but <i>n'importe</i>, there was happiness +in store for Horace independently of this fair girl. +Having sailed the ocean so long, no doubt he had found +out the truth of the proverb, 'There's as good fish in +the sea as ever came out of it.' +</p> + +<p> +"In France, Nelson met two naval officers, to whom +he seemed to take a dislike from the very first, for the +simple reason that they tried to keep up the dignity +of the service to which they belonged, by dressing in +a somewhat dandified fashion, and wearing epaulettes. +One of these was Captain Ball. +</p> + +<p> +"Nelson, my friend and hero, is a man of deeds, and +his hatred of vain-glory and show has ever been very +marked. We did not find him digging in his garden, +Tom, and planting cabbages, with his cocked-hat on +his head and a sword by his side." +</p> + +<p> +"No, sir," said Tom, laughing. "He would have +looked funny like that; but he wore very old clothes +indeed. He was droll." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, my lad, and when the Duke of Clarence +first saw him, he seems to have been droller-looking +still. +</p> + +<p> +"'I was,' said his Royal Highness, 'then a midshipman +on board the <i>Barfleur</i>, lying in the narrows off +State Island, and had the watch on deck, when Captain +Nelson came alongside in his barge. He appeared to +be the merest boy of a captain I had ever beheld, and his +dress made me smile. He had on a full-laced uniform, +his lank, unpowdered hair was tied in a stiff Hessian +tail of an extraordinary length, and the old-fashioned +flaps of his waistcoat, added to the general quaintness +of his figure, produced an appearance which quite +riveted my attention. I had never seen anything +like this before, and could not imagine who he was or +what he had come about. My doubts were however +removed, when Lord Hood introduced him to me. +There was something irresistibly pleasing in his +address and conversation, and an enthusiasm when +talking on naval matters, that showed he was no +ordinary being. +</p> + +<p> +"'I found him,' continued the Duke, 'warmly +attached to my father and singularly humane; indeed +he had the honour of the King's service, and independence +of the British Navy, particularly at heart. As +for prize money, such a thing never entered his +thoughts.' +</p> + +<p> +"Now, Bob, I want you to note this, my friend +Nelson, God bless his honest heart, hated dress and +foppery, and he hated Captain Ball because he was a +fop; but, as I said once to Horace, Miss Andrews +would have thought a deal more of him, had he too +donned the epaulettes and been a little less +old-fashioned, for, Bob, the ladies are attracted by gay +colours. It is nature you know. Look even at the +birds of the air, they don't care a slug how they knock +about all winter; but as soon as spring time comes, +and they go a-wooing, behold how gay and brave they +are. They know precisely when to put on their fancy +waistcoats, and when to leave them off. But <i>Nelson +didn't</i>. +</p> + +<p> +"Well by-and-by Horace was appointed to the +<i>Boreas</i>, twenty-eight guns, and sailed for Barbadoes. +</p> + +<p> +"Sir Richard Hughes was then commander-in-chief +of these colonies, but he was an easy-going commander +and did not trouble his head very much about British +interests. +</p> + +<p> +"But Nelson meant to do his duty <i>maugre</i> fear +<i>maugre</i> favour, although the big soldier men out there +did not thank him for his interference. So he seized +many vessels that he knew had no business at all to +trade in British colonies, and got persecuted in +consequence, as Horace himself says, 'from one island +to another.' +</p> + +<p> +"Out on this station Nelson met the charming +widow Nisbet, and married her. +</p> + +<p> +"Tom, the story stops here. You know pretty well +all the rest, how the <i>Boreas</i> came back in 1787 and +was paid off on the 4th of July, and how my dear +friend went on half-pay, and has been left high and +dry to fret and fume and 'rot,' as he calls it, ever +since, waiting in vain for the appointment that, it +seems to him, will never, never come. +</p> + +<p> +"Tom, look eastward, lad, there is a storm brewing, +and we better take the advantage of the cat's paws +before it breaks and get homewards." +</p> + +<p> +Tom did as he was desired, poled round the barge, +set sail and got home before the rain and high wind +ruffled the lake. +</p> + +<p> +Just as they had landed, however, and Bob's cot +was being wheeled towards his own wing of the +cottage, Mr. Merryweather touched young Tom on the +shoulder. +</p> + +<p> +"Tom," he said, "look eastward, there is a storm +brewing." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," said Tom, "but didn't you——" +</p> + +<p> +"Didn't I tell you that before? +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, lad, but I mean it now in a figurative sense. +There is a storm brewing in the east, and you'll be in +it, I'll be in it, and brave Horatio Nelson too." +</p> + +<p> +"You mean war, sir?'" +</p> + +<p> +"I mean war, Tom." +</p> + +<p> +"Hurrah!" +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap0112"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER XII. +<br><br> +"DAN WILL NE'ER BE DAN AGAIN," THEY SAID. +</h3> + +<p class="poem2"> + "A boding voice is in my ear,<br> + "We're parting now to meet no more."—OLD SONG.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem2"> + "See yon bark, sae proudly bounding,<br> + Soon shall bear me o'er the sea.<br> + Hark! the trumpet loudly sounding,<br> + Calls me far frae love and thee."—A. HUME.<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +It was a sad day for my hero, young +Tom Bure, when Mr. Merryweather +resigned command of the sloop, and +went on half-pay. When he came +to bid good-bye to Dan and his old +shipmate, Uncle Bob, to say nothing of +little Ruth and her mother, everyone was as sad as +sad can be. It was one of those dull, depressing days +in December; great waves tumbling in from the east +and breaking in thunder upon the sands of Yare; hosts +of seagulls flying in-land; snow in the air; general +gloom everywhere. +</p> + +<p> +"Good-bye, Bob, my good fellow, I hope to see you +again, and see you well. I'm coming back from the +wars with my post-captaincy, Bob; then you and your +good brother Dan here will be the first to bid be +welcome, I know." +</p> + +<p> +There was a huskiness in poor Bob's voice when he +made answer that was not difficult to account for, and +there was moisture in his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, mate," he said, "you must forgive an invalid +for showing the white feather at the last. I +didn't think, you know, I'd be so sorry to part with +you, but your presence, coming back and fore to the +cottage here, brought back old memories, and I've had +a right happy time. Good-bye, mate. Heaven preserve +you. I'll pray for you, an honest tar's prayer. But +something whispers to me—we'll meet again no more." +</p> + +<p> +Ruth went as far as the rustic bridge with +Mr. Merryweather. +</p> + +<p> +He kissed her as he bade her farewell. +</p> + +<p> +"I'll meet many a maiden ere I return again, Ruth," +he said, "but none more modest and fair than you, my +winsome lassie." +</p> + +<p> +Ruth went away sobbing, with her apron to her face. +</p> + +<p> +Tom walked as far as the beach with Merryweather, +for he was Tom's hero. +</p> + +<p> +Besides, he had promised to use his influence at the +Admiralty to get Tom appointed as a middie in the +same ship as he himself joined. +</p> + +<p> +"Good-bye, Tom." +</p> + +<p> +"Good-bye, Mr. Merryweather." +</p> + +<p> +They were now on the cliff. +</p> + +<p> +"Good-bye, sir, I wouldn't cry for the world, +I—wouldn't—good-bye." +</p> + +<p> +"There! there! lad. Never be ashamed of honest +tears. Just let them fall. The bravest men that ever +drew sword or wielded cutlass on the blood-slippery +battle-deck have wept when saying that little word +'good-bye.'" +</p> + +<p> +He patted the boy most kindly on the shoulder. +"Tom," he said, smiling, "do you know what I'm going +to do?" +</p> + +<p> +"No," said Tom, smiling himself, though his eyes +were wet. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, as soon as I get up anchor and wear round +I'll fire a gun for you. And do you know what that +gun will say?" +</p> + +<p> +"No, sir." +</p> + +<p> +"It'll say 'Good-bye, Tom,' as plainly as ever a gun +can speak. Now sit there and look and listen." +</p> + +<p> +And off ran this honest sailor, while Tom sat down +on the cliff-top to wait for developments. +</p> + +<p> +He saw the boat hauled up. He heard the rattle of +the windlass as the men got up the anchor. He saw +the loosened sails fill as the little craft wore round, +then there was a quick wicked-looking puff of white +smoke, with a tongue of fire in the centre of it, and +next moment the cliffs reverberated with the sound of +the farewell gun. +</p> + +<p> +Tom took off his jacket and waved it in the air; his +cap would not have been sufficient for the requirements +of so auspicious an occasion. +</p> + +<p> +"Good-bye, Tom," said the gun. +</p> + +<p> +And Tom went sadly home all by himself. +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * * +</p> + +<p> +There is one method of getting over sorrow that +every boy has in his power, namely, sticking to his +books and his studies. +</p> + +<p> +Many a time and oft, dear reader, has sorrow in this +world been the parent of fame, and Tom Bure found +that after a somewhat gloomy fortnight the time did +not hang so wearily on his hands. +</p> + +<p> +Hadn't Mr. Merryweather assured him that war was +coming, and that he would exercise all the influence he +possessed to obtain him an appointment as midshipman. +</p> + +<p> +How glorious that would be! How he wished for the +storm to break, for the war to begin. He did not think +of the fine uniform he might wear, or of the dirk that +should hang by his side. He resolved to emulate +Horatio Nelson, and despise dandyism; but whenever a +chance offered to do all kinds of daring, plucky things, +he was sure he should rise rapidly in the service, and +have his name written on the scroll of fame. +</p> + +<p> +Tom had heard of the scroll of fame, but possessed +very hazy notions indeed as to what it was or wasn't. +But in an old copy-book Mr. Curtiss, his tutor, one day +discovered the following ready-made scroll of fame— +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> + "Tom Bure, midshipman.<br> + Lieutenant Tom Bure, R.N.<br> + Commander Thomas Bure, R.N.<br> + Captain the Hon. Thom. Bure, R.N.<br> + Admiral of the Red the Hon. Thom. Bure.<br> + Admiral of the Fleet Lord——."<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +The scroll of fame was left unfinished just there; it +was evident that young Tom was uncertain what title +as a lord he should confer on himself. +</p> + +<p> +But he happened to enter the room just as Mr. Curtiss +was examining this scroll of fame and laughing +heartily over it. Forgetting for the moment all the +respect that was due to his tutor, Tom rushed forward, +seized the paper and tore it in pieces, his eyes flashing +with anger, his face burning like a coal. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh! forgive me, Mr. Curtiss," he said immediately +after, "I didn't mean to be rude, but I really felt so +ashamed." +</p> + +<p> +"Say no more, my boy, no more," said Mr. Curtiss, +"we all of us manufacture for ourselves a scroll of +fame, though we don't all transcribe it in an old +copy-book. Never be ashamed of ambition, my boy, so long +as it is honest ambition." +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * +</p> + +<p> +Christmas of 1792 came round at last, and Tom Bure +had the distinguished honour of being included among +the invited guests to a ball given by his little inamorata, +Miss Colmore, at the Hall. This party was not held +on Christmas-day, however, else Tom, much as he +loved the fascinating fair one, would have declined the +invitation. Christmas-day was Uncle Bob's day <i>par +excellence</i>, for he happened to have been born on this +day of all days; so it was the one festival of the year +at Dan's cottage. The dinner was spread in Bob's own +wing, the room was specially decorated for the purpose +with evergreens and holly-berries and mistletoe nearly +a week beforehand, Bob himself superintending, Ruth +and Tom doing the work. +</p> + +<p> +The table, with its snow-white cloth and sparkling +glasses, and Mrs. Dan's very best delf, was placed so +that, as Bob lay in his cot and Dan sat at the foot of +the table, the two brothers were close together, and +Dan could attend to Bob's every want. +</p> + +<p> +There were always a few neighbours invited, and +mirth and jollity and songs and yarns were the rule of +the evening. +</p> + +<p> +And this Christmas formed no exception. Poor Bob +was never merrier, and declared that he had been able +to move his fingers in the morning better than ever he +had done, so that a new hope was awakened within +him. No wonder he was happy. +</p> + +<p> +And Bob being happy, his brother Dan's face was all +the evening brimming over with joy. Even Meg, the +collie, knew that something extra was on the tapis, and +when everybody drank to Bob, wishing him many +happy returns of the day, and Dan his brother patted +his cheek, the dog jumped up and licked his ear, then +seemed to go to sleep with her head sideways on his +chest in her old loving fashion. +</p> + +<p> +This was indeed a never-to-be-forgotten evening. +</p> + +<p> +Two days after the party at the Hall took place, and +though perhaps Tom was not the greatest dandy there, +he nevertheless looked as well as anyone. And, singular +to say, Bertha was kinder to Tom than ever she had +been. She gave him more dances than she gave to the +Honourable Fred Langridge, although the latter wore +silver buckles in his shoes besides silk stockings and a +satin waistcoat, and sported a bunch of seals at his +fob as large even as Mr. Merryweather's. +</p> + +<p> +Tom was accordingly very happy indeed, and the +evening wore away with magical quickness. Bertha +had never looked so like a fairy before, but nevertheless +this fairy maiden even condescended to let Tom——; +but stay, I shall not tell tales out of school, and the +least said about the mistletoe the better. +</p> + +<p> +But that, too, was a never-to-be-forgotten evening. +</p> + +<p> +Our young hero was now in his twelfth year, and +began to think he really and truly was a man. +</p> + +<p> +It being winter Uncle Bob spent nearly all his time +indoors, but Tom went often to the crow's-nest, and +came back and reported to Bob all about the weather +and how the wind was, how the sea looked and what +was in sight, and this used to make Bob so happy. +</p> + +<p> +Tom often went out in the <i>Fairy</i> yawl with the +Ashleys. They were a rather rough lot, but really +capital seamen, and taught the boy quite a deal that +was useful to him in after life. +</p> + +<p> +And with all due respect for classical education, the +knowledge of how to reef and steer and splice and +knot, and of how to look a gale of wind and dashing +seas in the teeth, is not thrown away even on a +midshipman of the present day. +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * * +</p> + +<p> +The cold dreary winter wore away at last, and spring +began to clothe the marshes in tender green, and +scatter wild flowers everywhere. The catkins were +showered groundwards from the tall poplar trees, and +yellow-green leaves covered them like the shimmer of +evening sunshine, the tassels hung on the larches, the +gold covered the furze, gentler winds went whispering +through the young shoots of the bulrushes, and the +song of birds was heard in all the land. +</p> + +<p> +Happiness, joy, and hope were universal. +</p> + +<p> +Uncle Bob began to look forward now to his first +glad day on the broad in his barge. Dan his brother +was to come with him, Ruth and Meg and all were to +go, and Tom intended to invite little Bertha herself. +</p> + +<p> +It was indeed to be a day of rejoicing. +</p> + +<p> +One evening the stars shone with unusual brilliancy, +and yet Dan told Bob there wasn't an air of frost in it +either. Dan sat longer up with his brother that night +than usual. They were talking of dear old times +when father and mother were alive, and they were +boys together. Such joyous days those used to be, and +how free from care and thought. +</p> + +<p> +When at last the old clock in the corner groaned out +the hour of twelve, Dan bade his brother a kindly +good-night, and prepared to go. +</p> + +<p> +The last thing Bob asked him to do was to draw +back the curtains, that he might see the beautiful stars. +</p> + +<p> +"Take the candle, brother, take the candle," Bob +said. "Good-night, dear Dan. Now I shall see the +stars. Oh, what glory!" +</p> + +<p> +These were the last words ever Dan heard his brother +utter. Mayhap they were the last he ever spoke on +earth. +</p> + +<p> +When Tom went in next morning he found Uncle +Bob apparently asleep. But his face was white. +</p> + +<p> +Tom touched his brow; it was hard and cold. +</p> + +<p> +He stood in the chamber of death. +</p> + +<p> +It was Bob's wing no longer. +</p> + +<p> +Tom felt for a moment as if turned to stone, then, +uttering one long and bitter cry, he sank down on his +knees beside the bed and burst into tears. +</p> + +<p> +When brother Dan went in he found two mourners +there; one was little Tom, the other Bob's collie, Meg. +Her paws were on the bed, her cheek leant lovingly +against the hard, dead chest of her master. +</p> + +<p class="capcenter"> +<a id="img-134"></a> +<br> +<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-134.jpg" alt=""Dan found two mourners there, little Tom, and Bob's collie, Meg.""> +<br> +"Dan found two mourners there, little Tom, and Bob's collie, Meg." +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * * +</p> + +<p> +A very humble funeral. Only a plain deal coffin, +and only a few friendly neighbours to follow it to its +last resting-place. +</p> + +<p> +But when these neighbours looked in the face of +poor Dan, who erst was ever so cheerful, they shook +their heads. +</p> + +<p> +"Dan has aged sadly," they said. +</p> + +<p> +"Dan will ne'er be Dan again." +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap0201"></a></p> + +<h2> +Book II. +</h2> + +<p><br></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER I. +<br><br> +TOM'S BAPTISM OF BLOOD. +</h3> + +<p class="poem2"> + "Set every inch of canvas<br> + To woo the favouring breeze.<br> + Oh, gaily goes the ship<br> + When the wind blows free!"—OLD SONG.<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +"Luff, lad, luff," said the skipper to +Tom Bure, who was at the wheel. +"We'll give them a race for it anyhow. +They'll think none the less of us for +that." +</p> + +<p> +"See," he added, a minute after, but +talking now to his mate. Tom was too busy to look +about. "Yonder was a shot, it fell plump into our +wake a quarter knot astern. Blaze away, Frenchie, +but we're not overhauled yet, and not a herring o' +mine crosses your throat for the next two hours anyhow. +</p> + +<p> +"Ah! mate, they don't know the life that's in the +<i>Yarmouth Belle</i> when she gets a wind on the quarter. +And the more it blows the faster she goes. Another +shot! Ah! Frenchie, you haven't run us aboard yet +even. Keep her as she goes, Tom, lad, keep her as she +goes." +</p> + +<p> +The skipper and his mate might have been taken for +brothers, so much alike were they in face and build. +Short, squat almost; men about forty years of age, +with faces as rough as a crab shell, and not unlike to +a crab in colour when that dainty has been boiled; +noses that seemed to have sunk considerably by the +pressure of gales of wind innumerable; eyes that were +mere slits from the same cause; dressed in sea-boots +and blue sweaters, with black sou'-westers. They +carried their hands deep in their trousers' pockets +when not handling anything; kept them stowed away, +as it were, till wanted; and they chewed tobacco, as +a rule, walking down to leeward when they wanted to +expectorate, which they did apparently for the benefit +of the sharks. +</p> + +<p> +The men belonging to this schooner were five in +number, and hardy-looking fellows every one of them, +though not so tough as mate and master. They wore +blue night-caps, and were naked as to feet, in other +respects they were dressed like their superiors. +</p> + +<p> +There was little or no lording it over the men +displayed by the senior officers of the <i>Yarmouth Belle</i>, +Equality and fraternity was displayed fore and aft. +Even the skipper himself would be seen forward at +times, talking and laughing and yarning with the +forecastle hands, and any one of these would take a pull +at sheet or brace without an order from the officer on +duty, if he thought the sails needed trimming. +</p> + +<p> +But both master and mate looked pleasant enough, +and good-natured too, for men like these, who have +been, literally speaking, reared upon the waves, are not +easily put out. At the present moment, for instance, +they were running away from a French cruiser, and it +did seem too that they were likely to win the race. +</p> + +<p> +The stage of action was the Mediterranean sea, or +blue Levant, as novelists often call it. It was blue +as blue could be to-day, as blue as the sky above it, +albeit there was a white horse visible here and there +on its surface, for a stiff but steady breeze was +blowing, and if it only held, Mr. Hughes, the skipper, +felt sure he could show that Frenchman a clean pair +of heels. +</p> + +<p> +"Wo! wo!" he cried presently, as a shot fell closer +astern than was agreeable. +</p> + +<p> +"I'd let her pay off a trifle, George," said the mate. +</p> + +<p> +"Have it your own way, Tim, only don't let us get +hulled." +</p> + +<p> +"For'ard there!" he shouted. "Have the jollyboat +all ready. Now, Tim, let her rip. Sandie, run +aft here and haul up the British Jack. The red rag +that makes the Frenchman as mad's a bull. See, I +knew it would, and yonder comes another shot. Short +this time though. Short, you dirty old frog-eating +Moosoors. Mate, I'll have a tot o' rum. Don't see +why we shouldn't splice the main brace, eh?" +</p> + +<p> +"Steward!" cried Tim, "fill black-jack, and bring +him up here." +</p> + +<p> +The steward, in shirt and trousers, and a pair of +slippers down at the heels, soon appeared, with a cup +in one hand and a black iron measure with rum in it +in the other. These were days of can-tossing. +</p> + +<p> +"Here's confusion to the French!" cried the skipper. +</p> + +<p> +Then he tossed his can. +</p> + +<p> +The mate followed suit. +</p> + +<p> +"No good offerin' you, younker, any, I daresay," he +said, looking at Tom. +</p> + +<p> +"Not to-day, thanks." +</p> + +<p> +"Keep her full then, Tom. Keep your eyes aloft, +lad. Steward, take a pull yourself, then trot for'ard +with black-jack." +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * * +</p> + +<p> +In order to understand how Tom Bure happens to be +down here in the blue Levant, taking his trick at the +wheel on board the saucy <i>Yarmouth Belle</i>, it will be +necessary to hark back a month or two in our story, but +I promise you that we shall soon make up our leeway. +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * * +</p> + +<p> +After poor Uncle Bob was laid in his quiet grave, +then, Tom received several letters from +Mr. Merryweather, the last of which was very brief. He +(Mr. Merryweather) was appointed to a ship at Chatham +which was fitting out for sea, the letter explained, and +as soon as possible he meant to have an interview with +no less a personage than Lord Hood himself, with +whom he had served out in America. Tom might rest +assured that it was on his account wholly he was going +to see the admiral, and he, Tom, might really hold +himself in readiness to join a ship at any time. +</p> + +<p> +Now, at this date, '93, history was moving on at a +very rapid pace indeed. +</p> + +<p> +Things had not gone over well with Horatio Nelson +in '92. Hope itself seemed dead within him. His +applications for service were utterly ignored by the +Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty. +</p> + +<p> +It was not very long, however, before Nelson had +proof that the darkest hour of night is next the dawn, +and that "<i>post nubila Phœbus</i>," after clouds come +sunshine. He had still two good friends in high quarters, +namely, Lord Hood and the Duke of Clarence. Both +knew how good and enthusiastic an officer he was. Both +knew that the cloud in the east would soon break. The +French were, to use a slang but expressive adjective, +"cockie." The French were insolent. They were +already proved to be—so they themselves thought—the +best soldiers in the world, and they thought also +there would not be the slightest difficulty in proving +their superiority to the British at sea. +</p> + +<p> +They had already fired on British ships, and, with +every desire to maintain the peace of the world, our +Government saw there was nothing for it but fight. +</p> + +<p> +Very much to his surprise, therefore, as well as +intense delight, Nelson found himself appointed to the +<i>Agamemnon</i>, a 64-gun ship of great excellence. +</p> + +<p> +And so he sailed from England on the 27th of June, +making one of the squadron of Lord Hood, whose ships +were bound south, with a large convoy of merchantmen +under their lee. +</p> + +<p> +It was upon the 25th day of this very June that our +bold young Tom Bure set out on a cruise of his own +seeking. The <i>Fairy</i>, Ashley's yawl, was running round +Hunstanton way, and Tom begged for a passage, or +rather he asked for one. There was very little begging +needed in it, for gruff old Ashley was as proud and fond +of Tom as he was of any of his sons. So in a day or +two—the <i>Fairy</i> being delayed by wicked wee winds—Tom +found himself on shore at Wells. His object +was to see Captain Nelson, and beg him to take him +with him even as a cabin-boy. +</p> + +<p> +Alas! Nelson was gone. His father was there, +however, and as Tom sat in a high-backed chair opposite +the kind old parson, he was for fifteen minutes under a +fire of good advice, the text of which was, "Stay at +home, boy, and become a useful member of society. +Don't go to the sea to become a target for French +gunners, and to feed the fishes eventually." Of course +the worthy parson fixed his sermon up in a more +appropriate guise than this. And there sat Tom as quiet +as a mute; but, in the interests of truth, I am bound +to say that, like round shot which go clean through +a wooden ship at close quarters without doing much +harm, the rector's advice went in at one of Tom's ears +and out at the other, making no impression whatever. +</p> + +<p> +"Now, my dear boy," said old Mr. Nelson at last, +"you have listened most attentively to what I have +said, and I pray heaven you may benefit by it." +</p> + +<p> +Tom Bure had hardly heard a word of it. +</p> + +<p> +"Thank you," he said, "and now, sir, might I write +to your son?" +</p> + +<p> +"Down you sit, lad, right here at this desk, and scribble +away. I'll forward your epistle in one of mine." +</p> + +<p> +Here is Tom Bure's letter to Horatio Nelson: +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +"DEAR CAPTAIN NELSON,—This comes hoping you +are well and fighting the french, O, sir, I want to fite +the french too. My father was a galant offiser and +fought the french and the americans and Spanish and +all. So did you, sir. You, sir, wanted the admiralty +to give you a cockle-boat if you could not go as captain, +if I cannot go as a midshipman sir, I want to go as a +cabin boy. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> + "Yours Respectably,<br> + "TOM BURE."<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +It must be confessed that this letter was not free +from some errors, but then action and common-sense +were more admired in these brave old times than +grammar and orthography. +</p> + +<p> +Old Mr. Nelson promised faithfully to send the +letter, and having given the lad a good dinner and a +little more good advice, Tom marched boldly and +hopefully away to Hunstanton and met the Ashleys. +</p> + +<p> +On the passage back the <i>Fairy</i> ran into Yarmouth +harbour, and Tom went with old Ashley on board a +schooner to see a friend of his. +</p> + +<p> +"As plucky a fellow as ever hauled a net," he +explained to Tom before they crossed the plank. +"Netted a bit o' money too. For five years now he's +been running down the Levant wi' dried herrings, +and comin' back wi' fruit. But what I tells him is +this, 'You may do a thing in peace times ye can't in +war.' Only George is as headstrong as a mule. And +there he is. Ha, George, me and this younker was +just talkin' about you. Here is a young sailor for you, +if you like!" +</p> + +<p> +"Can he do aught? A gent, ain't he?" +</p> + +<p> +"Ay, a gent; but I brought him up, and, look see, +he's going to be something yet. Tom Bure'll be a +credit to me. He won't miss stays, you wager. But, +George, I was just telling him what an old idget ye +was." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, thank you!" said George, laughing. "I'm sure +I'm obliged. Come below and have a tot of rum and +bit o' baccy. Don't the <i>Yarmouth Belle</i> look nice?" +</p> + +<p> +"Ah! yes, slick and trim. I'd have no fear o' her +and you, George, if 't weren't war time." +</p> + +<p> +While these two men were talking, Tom Bure had a +happy thought. Why shouldn't he sail with George—as +Ashley called the skipper. Nelson went in a +merchant ship. "Sir," he said, "will you take me for +a cruise? I'll obey orders, and do all I can to help +you sail the schooner." +</p> + +<p> +George laughed in a rough but kindly way, and the +three went below together, and it all ended by young +Tom Bure becoming one of the crew, or say rather an +apprentice, on board the saucy <i>Yarmouth Belle</i>. +</p> + +<p> +Honest old Dan was much distressed when he heard +that Tom had engaged himself, and poor Ruth, whom +Tom always called sister, was inconsolable. +</p> + +<p> +"However, it may be all for the best," said Dan. +"He's been well brought up, though I say it, wife, and +Providence can protect him." +</p> + +<p> +"Besides," said Mr. Curtiss, "he must begin to see life +some time, and the sooner the better, Dan, now-a-days." +</p> + +<p> +Tom's things were gotten ready with all speed. Rough +wearing every-day articles they were, warm and useful. +Mrs. Brundell saw to their abundance and utility. +</p> + +<p> +His outfit for the navy had already been bought and +packed, and as Tom's chest was a good-sized one, Ruth +proposed that he should take his uniform clothes in +the bottom. "It may bring Tom luck, mother," she +said. So this was agreed to. +</p> + +<p> +On the evening before his departure, the Colmores +being then at the hall, Tom launched his boat, and with +Meg at the prow started off up the Broad to bid +farewell to his Bertha. +</p> + +<p> +Poor Bertha cried bitterly for a little while; but she +brightened up considerably when Tom told her it was +all to win honour and glory for her he was going to +brave the dangers of the treacherous ocean. She put +it to him very straight though. +</p> + +<p> +"What will you bring me, Tom?" she said. +</p> + +<p> +And there wasn't a thing in the world that Tom +did not promise to bring home and lay at his love's +feet, so it is no wonder she dried her eyes and laughed +at last. Bertha indeed seemed at this early stage of +her existence quite cut out for a sailor's bride. +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "That girl, who fain would choose a mate<br> + Should ne'er in fondness fail her,<br> + May thank her lucky stars if fate<br> + Decree her to a sailor.<br> + He braves the storm, the battle's heat,<br> + The yellow boys to nail her,<br> + Diamonds—if diamonds she could eat,<br> + Would seek her honest sailor."<br> +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * * +</p> + +<p> +So away went Tom. +</p> + +<p> +And the voyage had all along been a most pleasant +one. In a few days' time the skipper of the <i>Yarmouth +Belle</i> had reckoned upon reaching the port of destination, +selling off his cargo, and investing in another. +But it seemed at present that it was not going to be +all plain sailing with him. +</p> + +<p> +Whizz! Another shot. Much nearer this time too. +"That privateersman," said the skipper, "is a wonderful +craft to fly. Well, it'll be a feather in her cap if +she runs the <i>Yarmouth Belle</i> aboard." +</p> + +<p> +Whizz! +</p> + +<p> +"I say, George, ain't it getting a trifle too hot?" +said the mate. +</p> + +<p> +When the next shot went ripping through the fore +topsail, George turned his quid in his mouth, and +nodded to his mate. +</p> + +<p> +"I must admit, matie," he said, "it's getting a bit +warmish. We've done all we could as Englishmen to +maintain the honour and glory of the flag, now we'll +haul her down." +</p> + +<p> +The <i>Yarmouth Belle</i> was now brought to, and ere +long was boarded by an officer from the cruiser. +</p> + +<p> +When he came on the quarter-deck he was in a +terrible passion, and swore roundly in French. +</p> + +<p> +But as no one except Tom Bure understood a word +he said, it did not matter a deal. +</p> + +<p> +Tom did all he could to pacify the French officer, by +explaining that being Englishmen, they were obliged +either to fight or retire. Being unable to fight they +naturally ran away to save their cargo, just as they +hoisted the British flag to save their honour. +</p> + +<p> +"Where is that flag?" hissed the officer, striking +his sword-scabbard on the deck. "Give me the rag." +</p> + +<p> +Now Tom had the old Bure blood in him, and his +face glowed with anger to hear his country's flag called +a rag. He determined it should not be surrendered. +</p> + +<p> +"Here is the flag, sir," he said. "Let me roll it up +for you." +</p> + +<p> +As he did so he deftly managed to tie within it two +marline spikes, old-fashioned, heavy articles. +</p> + +<p> +Then he coolly pitched the crimson bundle overboard. +</p> + +<p> +"There, sir; a gentleman knows how to respect even +the flag of an enemy. You are not one, and shall +never finger flag of ours." +</p> + +<p> +This, it must be confessed, was a bold as well as +pretty speech for a lad of Tom's age. Those, however, +were the days of bold speeches, and doughty deeds as +well. +</p> + +<p> +But dire were the results that followed. +</p> + +<p> +The Frenchman drew his sword, and struck poor +Tom Bure a terrible blow with the hilt. +</p> + +<p> +Tom fell senseless to the deck. +</p> + +<p> +Next moment the Frenchman lay beside him. +</p> + +<p> +"Fair play, you cowardly frog-eater," the skipper +had shouted, bringing his fist to bear full between the +officer's eyes. +</p> + +<p> +It was too late now to draw back. +</p> + +<p> +"Overboard with the lot," shouted skipper Hughes. +</p> + +<p> +As he spoke he tore the sword from the grasp of the +fallen man, and the pistol from his belt. +</p> + +<p> +The mate seized a capstan bar. The crew followed +his example. A few pistol shots were fired, and +cutlasses were drawn by the Frenchmen; but the +attack had been all too quick and unexpected to be +met. In less than a minute the crew of the boat +were overpowered and disarmed, then pitched pell-mell +overboard. +</p> + +<p> +Those Norfolk sailors had fought like demons. +</p> + +<p> +The foreyard was hauled forward, and away once +more went the <i>Yarmouth Belle</i>, skimming over the +water like a living thing. +</p> + +<p> +By the time the cruiser had picked up her boat the +schooner had secured such an offing that, as night was +coming on, the baffled privateer was fain to give up +pursuit and go off on another tack. +</p> + +<p> +And this was Tom Bure's baptism of blood. +</p> + +<p> +He certainly lost some, and there was an ugly gash +on his brow; but he was soon sufficiently recovered to +sit up and look about him. +</p> + +<p> +The skipper had bound up his brow, and the steward +was kneeling beside him, trying hard to get him to +swallow a little three-water-grog. +</p> + +<p> +Tom couldn't believe his eyes when he looked about +him. +</p> + +<p> +There was the <i>Yarmouth Belle</i> once more under full +sail, and there was the French officer sitting +disconsolately under the lee rails, side by side with one of +his own men, both with their legs in irons. +</p> + +<p> +And now Tom showed his generosity by begging +that both men should be placed <i>en parole</i>. +</p> + +<p> +The skipper consented, and with his own hands Tom +unlocked the irons and set them free. +</p> + +<p> +"The English are von brave nationg," said the +officer, and, much to Tom's astonishment, he was caught +and kissed on both cheeks. +</p> + +<p> +The Frenchmen, however, settled down very happily +in their new quarters, and were as merry as merry +could be. +</p> + +<p> +After all, it was only the fortune of war. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap0202"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER II. +<br><br> +HOW TOM BURE JOINED THE SERVICE. +</h3> + +<p class="poem2"> + "Let cannons roar loud, burst their sides let the bombs,<br> + Let the winds a dread hurricane rattle;<br> + The rough and the pleasant, Jack takes as it comes,<br> + And laughs at the storm and the battle."—DIBDIN.<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +The <i>Yarmouth Belle</i> had baffling winds +for a few days after this, which +considerably delayed her progress to Naples, +the port of her destination. But the +weather was beautiful on the whole, and +the skipper and the mate were both +philosophers of the happy-go-lucky school. +</p> + +<p> +"I'm not going to fret my little self," said +Mr. Hughes one morning at breakfast, when Tom reported +that the <i>Belle's</i> head was not directed to that point of +the compass he should wish. +</p> + +<p> +"We're not going to fret our little selves," said the +mate. "Pass the ham, skipper. We've plenty to eat, +we've plenty to drink, and we have 'baccy, and there's +no hurry home." +</p> + +<p> +"You are rich men den?" said the French officer. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, no, sir. Rich in content, that is all." +</p> + +<p> +"You veel make one profitabeal voyage?" +</p> + +<p> +"I hope to make fifty," said the skipper. +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, dat is not vot I mean. <i>Dis</i> voyage, saar. +Here, I veel pay you <i>tres bien</i> if you take me to Tunis." +</p> + +<p> +The Briton shook his head. +</p> + +<p> +"That cock won't fight, sir," he said. "I'm a poor +man, but I trust I'm an honourable one; least I +hope so." +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, good! I make my respects to you. I honour +you, I love you. Good-bye." +</p> + +<p> +He stretched his hand over the table, seized Hughes' +rough fist, and shook it heartily. +</p> + +<p> +"Are you off then?" said the mate, laughing +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, saar! I not mean that, my good-bye is not all +de same as yours." +</p> + +<p> +At this moment Tom entered once more. +</p> + +<p> +He looked excited. +</p> + +<p> +"Three frigates in sight, Mr. Hughes, sir," he said. +"I've been to the mast-head with the glass, and they +look like Frenchmen." +</p> + +<p> +It was the officer's turn to laugh now. +</p> + +<p> +"Ah!" he cried, "now it may be 'Good-bye' after all +in de Eenglish way. Ha! ha!" +</p> + +<p> +"Don't you whistle till you're out of the wood, +Moosoo," said Hughes, nodding to him good-humouredly. +"You don't know yet what the <i>Belle</i> can do on a +wind." +</p> + +<p> +Stout though he was, the skipper found his way into +the top, while the mate stood below looking up. +</p> + +<p> +"Right the boy is!" he shouted down presently. +"They are French as sure's I'm Yarmouth. Ready +about, mate! We may as well keep out o' the way. +But, bless you, mate," he added, when he got down +again, "they seem far too busy to bother us." +</p> + +<p> +"May I take the glass and go into the cross-trees, +sir?" asked Tom. +</p> + +<p> +"Go on to the truck if ye like, lad. Why, you've +got eyes like a lynx." +</p> + +<p> +Away aloft went Tom. No cat could have gone +aloft half so neatly. Honest pride was swelling his +young heart as he brought the telescope to bear on the +Frenchmen. +</p> + +<p> +"On deck!" he shouted presently. +</p> + +<p> +"Ay, ay, lad!" cried Hughes. +</p> + +<p> +"There are three big frigates, a smaller" (? corvette), +"and a brig." +</p> + +<p> +Hughes laughed and turned to Moosoo, as he called +his prisoner. Hughes was fond of a joke. +</p> + +<p> +"We can't do it, Moosoo," he said. "Had there been +only three frigates now, we might have boarded and +carried them one after another. But four and a brig +to boot—that's just two more 'n we can eat. +Ha! ha! ha! See the point?" +</p> + +<p> +If Moosoo didn't see the point he felt it; for in +order to emphasise his joke Hughes dug him in the +ribs with his red fat forefinger. +</p> + +<p> +"One of the frigates has dropped astern, sir," was +the next hail from the cross-trees. "A bigger one than +any is coming up on her, hand over hand." +</p> + +<p> +"Is <i>she</i> French?" +</p> + +<p> +"Can't make out. Shall soon, I think." +</p> + +<p> +In twenty minutes' time came another hail. +</p> + +<p> +"British, Mr. Hughes, British! and now she's fired +a shot." +</p> + +<p> +"Hoorah!" cried Hughes. "Mr. Moosoo," he added, +"here's news. My second mate aloft there tells me +there's seventeen French sail o' the line running away +from a Britisher. Hoorah!" +</p> + +<p> +"Below there!" shouted Tom. +</p> + +<p> +"Ay, ay!" +</p> + +<p> +"The fight's begun; but they've all borne away on +the other tack." +</p> + +<p> +"Ready about!" cried the skipper. "Mate, we'll see +the last of this. Nothing to pay, you know." +</p> + +<p> +In less than an hour the saucy Belle was so near +to the belligerents—no pun meant, reader, the occasion +is too serious for punning—to witness from the deck +the running fight between the frigates. +</p> + +<p> +It was hotly contested on both sides for more than +two hours, after which the foe was silenced. +</p> + +<p> +"They are going to board," cried Tom. +</p> + +<p> +The boy was dancing with excitement on the cross-trees. +</p> + +<p> +"Hurrah!" cried Hughes again. +</p> + +<p> +But they were all disappointed. +</p> + +<p> +The British ship veered round with her head to the +west, and men could be seen in the rigging immediately +after making good repairs. +</p> + +<p> +"She means to fight again, I'll wager a barrel of +herrings. They're only putting things right a bit +to go ahead." +</p> + +<p> +"Now, mate," continued this valiant skipper, "I +move we keep her up and join the Britisher. Let us +see if we can't be of any assistance to her. Eh?" +</p> + +<p> +"Bravo, sir!" said the mate, "I'm on. The idea's +first rate, and we may share the prize money and the +glory, you know." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, bother the glory! We may sell our herrings." +</p> + +<p> +There was another and final hail from the cross-trees. +</p> + +<p> +"The beaten frigate, sir, has hoisted signals, and the +others are bearing down towards her." +</p> + +<p> +"Now the fun'll begin," cried the warlike skipper. +"That British ship is good enough for the five of them, +I know." +</p> + +<p> +But it was soon evident that the French frigates had +no desire to renew the combat. Perhaps they had +important engagements in some other part of the +Levant. At all events, after a time they sheered +off. +</p> + +<p> +Then the <i>Yarmouth Belle</i> stood towards the British +man-o'-war, and was duly hailed, and finally ran +alongside. The man-o'-war, which proved to be the +<i>Agamemnon</i>—Nelson's own ship—had her mainsail +hauled aback, a boat was lowered to board the <i>Belle</i>, +and in a few minutes returned, bringing the Norfolk +skipper and Tom himself. +</p> + +<p> +Both were sent on the poop. +</p> + +<p> +Tom Bure certainly did not look a very picturesque +figure just then, for his brow was still bound up with +the blood-stained handkerchief, and he wore a +sou'-wester and blue jumper. +</p> + +<p> +The glad blood mounted to his face, however, when +he saw it was Horatio Nelson himself who advanced +towards him. +</p> + +<p> +There were several officers besides on the quarterdeck, +but Tom had eyes only for the hero. +</p> + +<p> +Tom saluted, and waited to be questioned. +</p> + +<p> +"Why, my lad," said Nelson kindly, "you are Tom +Bure, aren't you? But why this masquerade?" +</p> + +<p> +Tom looked puzzled. +</p> + +<p> +"I received your letter, boy"—Nelson smiled—"and +I have it still," he said, "and wrote soon after to the +Admiralty requesting your appointment to this very +ship. But you must have left England before that +appointment came." +</p> + +<p> +"I hope I haven't done wrong, sir; but I had no +hopes you would think of me." +</p> + +<p> +"Not think of you, boy? Nonsense." +</p> + +<p> +"So, sir, I sailed with Mr. Hughes here, sir." +</p> + +<p> +"Captain of the saucy <i>Yarmouth Belle</i>," put in that +worthy. "Finest herrings, sir." +</p> + +<p> +"One minute, Mr.——a——<i>Captain</i> Hughes. Well, +Tom Bure, give an account of yourself and that cut +on your head." +</p> + +<p> +Tom briefly related all that had occurred, Hughes +helping him now and then—putting a spoke in his +wheel, as he phrased it. +</p> + +<p> +Nelson laughed heartily, and shook hands now with +the skipper. +</p> + +<p> +"You're an honour to England, Mr. Hughes," he +said, "and I shall not fail to mention your gallantry +in the right quarter. Now I'll relieve you of +your prisoners, and if you can spare me this +young gentleman I'll have his services here in my +ship." +</p> + +<p> +"Delighted, I'm sure," said the skipper. "Any +herrings, sir?" +</p> + +<p> +Nelson smiled again. +</p> + +<p> +"See my steward about that," he said, "and you can +stay here for twenty minutes and do business forward. +Whither are you bound?" +</p> + +<p> +"To Naples, my lord." +</p> + +<p> +"No lord as yet, Captain Hughes; but I'll show my +trust in a Norfolk man by giving you a letter to +deliver at Naples." +</p> + +<p> +"I'll give it, sir, if it should be to the king +himself." +</p> + +<p> +Seeing Captain Nelson engaged talking to the worthy +skipper, one of the officers now advanced and laid +his hand on Tom's shoulder. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, my hero!" he said. +</p> + +<p> +It was Merryweather himself, and Tom's cup of +bliss was full to overflowing. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Merryweather marched him off to the lee side +of the poop after telling a middy to see "this young +gentleman's" chest on board the <i>Agamemnon</i>. +</p> + +<p> +The middy, who was some years older than Tom, +saluted as he said "Ay, ay, sir"; but he surveyed Tom +with haughty superciliousness as he descended from +the poop. +</p> + +<p> +So Mr. Merryweather had all the last and freshest +news from Norfolk. +</p> + +<p> +"Pity," he said at last, "you have not your uniform." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, I had forgotten!" said Tom in a low voice. +"Ruth put that in the bottom of my sea chest." +</p> + +<p> +"Bravo! poor dear, winsome, wee Ruth. Shouldn't +wonder if I married her, Tom; but now, lad, bid your +skipper good-bye, and come below to my cabin. There +you can dress you know. Wait one moment though." He +advanced to Captain Nelson. +</p> + +<p> +"May Mr. Bure go below now, sir?" +</p> + +<p> +"Certainly, Mr. Merryweather; and he better see +the surgeon and have his face washed." +</p> + +<p> +One of the junior surgeons, who looked more like a +butcher's assistant than anything else, was coming up +from the cockpit. He took Tom in tow, and speedily +dressed his wound for him. +</p> + +<p> +In ten minutes he was washed and arrayed in his +midshipman's uniform. And now he reported himself +formally to Captain Nelson, who seemed much pleased. +"I hope you will make a good and efficient officer," +he said. "There are three things you are to bear +specially in mind, Mr. Bure. Firstly, you must always +obey orders most implicitly, without attempting to +form any opinion of your own as to their propriety; +secondly, you must consider every man your enemy who +speaks ill of your king or your country; and thirdly, +you must hate a Frenchman as you do the——." +</p> + +<p> +A spar fell on deck, and Tom didn't hear the last +word. +</p> + +<p> +The Agamemnon and <i>Yarmouth Belle</i> now parted +company, the crew of the latter with a cheer that was +heartily responded to. +</p> + +<p> +Then the skipper turned to his mate. +</p> + +<p> +"Mate," he said, "I've done first-rate. Captain +Nelson's a brick. A brick, mate, and a Briton." +</p> + +<p> +"And being a brick and a Briton, let us say a +Heart of Oak ——," said the mate. +</p> + +<p> +"That's it, mate, a Heart of Oak. You have it." +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap0203"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER III. +<br><br> +IN THE GUNROOM MESS—THE GREAT WAR GAME. +</h3> + +<p class="poem2"> + "Though careless and headstrong if danger should press,<br> + And rank'd 'mongst the free list of rovers,<br> + Jack melts into tears at a tale of distress,<br> + And proves the most constant of lovers,<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem2"> + "To rancour unknown, to no passion a slave,<br> + Nor unmanly, nor mean, nor a railer;<br> + He's gentle as mercy, as fortitude brave,<br> + And this is a true British sailor."—DIBDIN.<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +The gunroom of the <i>Agamemnon</i> was +right aft and beneath the wardroom, +and a big empty barn of a room it was, +with a large table athwartships, which +was made to be removed at a moment's +notice. There were ports in the place, +and guns too; very little light, very little air, and +about twenty junior officers of all sorts and sizes, +from the youngest middy—quite a child—to the tall +ungainly form of the surgeon's mate. There were +seats and lockers and coils of rope and a shockingly +bad odour, which seemed to be a compound of tar, +bilge water, stinking fish, and Stilton cheese. +</p> + +<p> +Tom was horrified at seeing huge cockroaches inches +long running about the lockers and bulkheads, and +even over the biscuits in the trencher that stood on +the table. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Merryweather had shown Tom in here without +much ceremony. +</p> + +<p> +"Gentlemen," he said, "here is Mr. Bure, a new +messmate, son of the late Commander Bure, R.N. Some +of you will perhaps put him up to the ropes"; and +away went Merryweather. +</p> + +<p> +Put him up to the ropes indeed! Why, the first +thing Tom did was to tumble over a coil of that +commodity. +</p> + +<p> +"Look out, awkward!" cried one middy. +</p> + +<p> +"Keep your head up and you'll never die," said +another. +</p> + +<p> +Tom stood still for about a minute till he became +accustomed to the dim light. Then he was about to +step forward and seat himself, when the midshipman +whom Mr. Merryweather had ordered to see his chest +on board stepped forward to meet him. +</p> + +<p> +He lifted his cap. +</p> + +<p> +"I'm Lord Raventree, Mr. Bure," he began. +</p> + +<p> +"Belay your jawing tackle," shouted a mate, "I +want to read. What, d' ye think Bure cares if you +were twenty lords rolled into one?" +</p> + +<p> +"You hold your peace, Selby. I'm talking to a +gentleman, and not to you." +</p> + +<p> +"Now, sir," he continued, turning once more to +Tom, "I believe I owe you an apology, and I make +it." +</p> + +<p> +"But for what, Lord Raventree?" said Tom, much +puzzled. +</p> + +<p> +"I insulted you with my eyes, on the poop." +</p> + +<p> +"Sit down, Cockie. Hit him with a bit o' biscuit, +somebody." +</p> + +<p> +"Now I apologise; but if you'd rather fight I'll +meet you at Tunis with pistols." +</p> + +<p> +"I've always fought with fists," said Tom boldly, +"and as I'm the challenged I've got the choice. I have +heard it said this was the rule." +</p> + +<p> +"Sir, fists are not weapons. I've always fought with +pistols." +</p> + +<p> +"Fiddlesticks!" cried someone derisively. +</p> + +<p> +Tom turned quickly to the speaker, and won all +hearts by saying right merrily: +</p> + +<p> +"Well, I don't mind fiddlesticks. Will you be my +second, sir?" +</p> + +<p> +"With pleasure," cried young Fraser. "Fiddlesticks +are good enough for Raventree anyhow. The last time +he fought a duel it was with his feet against the usher, +when he was being birched at school." +</p> + +<p> +The laugh was against his lordship now. +</p> + +<p> +"I won't fight with fiddlesticks. This is an +innovation. A <i>reductio ad absurdum</i>. I am sorry to say +that there is an absence of moral tone about the mess +that——" +</p> + +<p> +What else he would have said may never be learnt, +for the surgeon's mate entered at that moment. +</p> + +<p> +He looked from one to the other of the would-be +belligerents, and seemed at once to note how the land +lay. +</p> + +<p> +"Cookie at it again?" +</p> + +<p> +"Cockie should be cobbed," suggested someone. +</p> + +<p> +"No," said the medico, "we won't cob Cockie. +Desperate diseases need desperate cures. If, my Lord +Raventree, you won't round in the slack of your +cockiness, we'll make you fast to a rope and tow you +astern for a minute and a half." +</p> + +<p> +"Cockie on the end of a cable! Ha! ha!" +</p> + +<p> +"Cockie on the end of a lanyard!" +</p> + +<p> +"Or a bit o' spunyarn! That would be strong +enough to hold Cockie." +</p> + +<p> +The entrance of some of the servants with the +evening meal of salt meat and biscuits put an end to +the squabble. But Tom Bure had learned a lesson +even this early. He had found out that the gun-room +mess was in reality a little republic. That +self-assertiveness or cockieness would not be tolerated at +any price, but that merit and modesty would be fully +appreciated if they went hand-in-hand, and, moreover, +that good-nature and a merry temper would go far to +make any member of the mess a favourite. +</p> + +<p> +Lord Raventree, or Cockie, as he was often called for +short, sometimes put "side" on. Consequently he was +knocked down and jumped upon. Figuratively speaking, +I mean. Knocking a man down and then jumping on +him is a good (?) old English custom which still prevails +in England. In Lancashire, and some portions of the +Midland counties, the trick is performed literally and +physically by the rougher and probably more honest +classes. In polite society it is done just as often, only +figuratively and not physically, and hurts quite as bad. +</p> + +<p> +There were several men in this mess, and they +ruled their juniors in various ways. Sometimes by +rule of thumb, sometimes by rule of thump. Two +or three masters' mates, well grown specimens; two +doctors' mates, one Scotch, one Irish, who were +constantly engaged in verbal battle, banter, or learned +discussion, but who stuck together like amalgamated +bricks in the cockpit, and liked each other very +well on the whole; several hairy midshipmen, whom +the Lords Commissioners had forgotten to promote +because they lacked landed interest to push them +into prominence, and one middy—two-and-thirty +years of age—with silver hairs among the gold of his +temples, O'Grady to name. He had crept in through +the hawse-hole, but would no doubt be a lieutenant +before the war was over. A mixty-maxty kind of a +mess you will observe, not burdened with any very +embarrassing amount of etiquette, but right as well as +rough. Hearts of Oak in fact, for these were the days +when true courage, manliness, muscle, dash, and go +were appreciated to their fullest extent. There was +honesty in the mess also—and it is a rare thing to find +much of this in our day—honesty and fair play, so +that even a lord or a prince had as good a chance of +becoming first favourite in the gun-room, if he behaved +like a man, as the humblest laird's or parson's son. +</p> + +<p> +When Tom Bure joined the service it would have +been difficult to say who was favourite, or a favourite. +Perhaps honest O'Grady was as much respected as anyone. +</p> + +<p> +Hoste, afterwards Sir William, was a member of +the mess, a thoughtful and undoubtedly clever young +officer. Josiah Nisbet also, a midshipman and stepson +to Nelson. This young fellow was really brave, or +"plucky," which is more of a midshipman's adjective +than "brave" is; but at this time, at all events, he was +quiet and unobtrusive. He was a modest lad, and +Bure quite took to him. Perhaps Josiah felt that, +being so nearly related to his captain, he was right in +keeping himself in the background to some extent. +</p> + +<p> +Tom did not quite like Hoste. The young gentleman +did not say much, it is true, but, like Paddy's +parrot, it was evident that he was thinking all the +more on this account. +</p> + +<p> +Well, this first night had not passed away before +Tom found that he had made several friends. O'Grady +took him very much in tow, for example; the butcher's +assistant—I beg his pardon, the Scotch surgeon's +mate—drew Tom out, called him greenhorn in a friendly +way, laughed at his innocence and at nearly all he said, +and finished by ordering him off to his hammock. +This he did also in a roughly, friendly way. +</p> + +<p> +"Here, Master Griff," he said, "we've had enough of +you. Bear up for your hammock. Daddy O'Grady'll +put you up to the ropes." +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Mister</i> O'Grady, if ye plaze," said the quondam +bo's'n, laughing. +</p> + +<p> +"Let's call you Daddy," said the surgeon's mate. +"You're no so vera mickle older than mysel', but it +sounds so friendly like." +</p> + +<p> +"Troth, then, it's little I care, my valiant Scot, what +I'm called so long's I'm not called down to the +cockpit when you've got your big apron on." +</p> + +<p> +Josiah went with Daddy O'Grady, and the surgeon's +mate bade Tom good night in a very friendly way—for <i>him</i>. +</p> + +<p> +"Good-night, laddie. Say your prayers, and there's +no fears o' ye. Have ye a Bible in your kist? Weel, +read a bittock ilka nicht o' your life. Then kneel +down aside your kistie (sea chest) and commend +yoursel' to Him that hauds (holds) us a' in His ban's. +Man, you'll sleep like a tap aifter that. I like't +your bearing the nicht in the mess. Keep it up, lad. +Be friendly wi' all, be ower free wi' nane. And +never be cockie. A cockie younker soon gets the +starch ta'en oot of his frills in oor gunroom. Aff +wi' you." +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * * +</p> + +<p> +Nelson's ship, in which we now find our little hero, +was bound for Tunis to join Commodore Linzee, and a +very pleasant trip or outing it proved to be. Neither +the word trip nor outing is a very warlike one, I grant +you, reader; but it suits this voyage to Tunis admirably. +They had fine weather all the way, and never a single +adventure worthy of the name, so had there been +ladies on board it would have been a very pretty +picnic. Nelson had been sent to the court of the +barbarous Dey of Tunis, to endeavour, by means of his +sweet persuasive tongue to get his Highness, or +Celestiality, or whatever he called himself, to kick the +French out of Tunis. +</p> + +<p> +"A most cruel and blood-thirsty nation," said Nelson. +</p> + +<p> +"Do you know," said the Dey, "I like them all the +better for that?" +</p> + +<p> +"Why," continued Nelson, "they have killed their +lawful king!" +</p> + +<p> +"Ahem!" said the Dey. "Pray tell me, Captain +Nelson, if it be true that the English never killed +their king." +</p> + +<p> +This settled it, and Nelson rejoined his fleet, and was +shortly sent to the coast of Corsica with a small +squadron, to co-operate with General Paoli, who was +the leader of the insurgents in that island. +</p> + +<p> +Now, dear reader, I know that cut-and-dry history +is quite as unpalatable to the young taste as physiology +or any other ology—<i>i.e.</i> to the average taste. Still, a +little of either is at times necessary to make sense of a +story, and now-a-days especially, everybody wants to +know the reason why of everything. Verily our +private soldiers and common sailors, as they are +irreverently called—just as if any sailor could be +common—fight all the better when they know what +they are fighting for. +</p> + +<p> +Why, then, it may be asked, did the British want +to banish the poor nincompoops of Frenchies from +Corsica? For this reason: <i>We</i>—the British nation—found +it necessary to have the command of the +Mediterranean. It gave us the command of Egypt, +and Egypt is the key to other countries that our +enemies even then were throwing sheep's-eyes upon. +Toulon would have suited us nicely. +</p> + +<p> +Pray cast your eagle eye, reader, on a map of the +Levant and see where Toulon lies; also Corsica, +Sardinia, Sicily, Alexandria, and that nasty little—but +handy—hole of a Tunis. +</p> + +<p> +A great war game was just commencing; the French +had mighty armies and a great navy, as well as mighty +commanders and admirals on their side of the board, +and we had——well, +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "Our ships were British oak,<br> + And hearts of oak our men."<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +Our first move, however, did not turn out trumps. +Our first move had been to send Lord Hood out to +blockade Toulon with his squadron, which, by the way, +was none too big for anything. And just before Tom +Bure was taken on board the <i>Agamemnon</i> from the saucy +<i>Yarmouth Belle</i>, a very wonderful thing had taken +place. Briefly it was this, France being divided +against itself, the southern half wished to become a +separate republic under English protection, and so +Hood had not been long in front of Toulon with his +lads in blue before, in the name of the French king, +Louis XVIII., Toulon was delivered up to him, ships +and all. +</p> + +<p> +"What an event," writes Nelson to his wife, "this +has been for Lord Hood! Such an one as history +cannot produce its equal, that the strongest place +in Europe, with twenty-two sail-of-the-line, should +be given up without firing a shot! It is scarcely +to be credited." +</p> + +<p> +Hood, who was at this time along with the Spanish +fleet, landed fifteen hundred men to man the forts; and +Naples and Britain being then for political reasons +hand and glove, the king offered to send six thousand +men to Toulon to assist in holding it. Hood, however, +had demanded ten thousand. And these would have +been few enough to defend the royalists in Toulon +against the number and fury of the republicans who +marched against it. +</p> + +<p> +The British, however, were before very long obliged +to evacuate Toulon, and I think there is no more awful +page in history than that which describes this +evacuation—the blowing up of the arsenals, the burning of +the ships of war. +</p> + +<p> +Sir Sidney Smith acted on that awful night with a +bravery that amidst the fearful surroundings was like +that of a demon. +</p> + +<p> +"It was a rehearsal," I make one of my heroes in +another book* say, "of all the glories and all the horrors +of war combined in one long act. +</p> + +<p> +</p> + +<p> +* <i>For England, Home, and Beauty</i>. Same publishers. +</p> + +<p> +</p> + +<p> +"I must be brief," he adds, "the recollection is not +one of unmitigated pleasure. +</p> + +<p> +"The thousands of galley slaves, then, got free at last. +Sidney had not the heart to think of them perishing in +the flames. +</p> + +<p> +"They got free, soon after the night became almost as +bright as day with the glare of fires that rose up +simultaneously in all directions, such fires as I never +witnessed before, and have little desire ever to see +again. Many of the stores were of a most combustible +nature, and every now and then the explosion of a +magazine seemed to rend the heavens and the earth, +increasing the fierceness of the fires tenfold, by +scattering blazing brands and rafters in all directions, +and blowing down the walls of the buildings already +in flames, thus admitting the air. +</p> + +<p> +"In the midst of all this there were the constant +cannonade of the fire-ships, the guns of which being +heated went off, the wild screams of the murdering +galley-slaves, and the songs and shouts of the soldiers. +</p> + +<p> +"But more of fearful and awful took place before the +work was finished, and even bold Sir Sidney was +staggered at the terrific forces he had let loose, when +first one powder-ship and then another blew up. +</p> + +<p> +"The fire storm was everywhere—on earth, in air, and +sea. Beams of fiery wood and showers of sparkling, +crackling timbers dropped hissing into the water on +every side. +</p> + +<p> +"The sight displayed the magnificence of warfare on a +scale perhaps never before witnessed. But, alas! its +horrors were there also; for the slave-fiends had +possession of the town, and were committing the most +frightful atrocities. I must not describe what I saw +and heard, but the shrieks of men and women will +ring in my ears till my dying day." +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * * +</p> + +<p> +The next card then played by the British in this +war game was Corsica, and this proved a good one. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap0204"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER IV. +<br><br> +"WERE THERE REALLY TEARS IN NELSON'S EYES?" +</h3> + +<p class="poem2"> + "Hame, dearie, hame,<br> + And it's hame that I would be;<br> + Hame, dearie, hame,<br> + To ma ain countrie."—OLD SONG.<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +We now find Nelson and Tom Bure, our big +hero and our little one, on the coast of +Corsica. +</p> + +<p> +Paoli, the insurgent leader, a very +brave soldier by the way, desired the +assistance of the British, and it suited +the British to grant his request, for now that Toulon +was taken from us, it was a matter of great +importance to have Corsica. +</p> + +<p> +So Paoli ceded the island to us. +</p> + +<p> +In 1824 Nelson was cruising around here, and having +"great fun." That was what O'Grady of the gun-room +mess called it. His object—Nelson's I mean, ably +assisted no doubt by both O'Grady and Tom—was to +make it as hot as possible for the French. +</p> + +<p> +The <i>Agamemnon</i> was very busy indeed in that month +of February, ever on the alert, always in chase. +</p> + +<p> +Tom soon settled down to the routine of the service, +and being lithe and active, was plentifully employed +indeed, and often on the outlook. Nothing delighted +the lad more than to discover a sail in sight, and be +perhaps the first to report it. +</p> + +<p> +Tom was one of a party who landed near San +Fiorenzo, and helped to set fire to a mill. It was the +only one in the district. So the French would have +no more flour there. +</p> + +<p> +Nelson destroyed a dozen sail of ships, laden with +wine for the enemy—thousands of tons of it. +</p> + +<p> +"Sorra another dhrop o' dhrink will they have +either," said O'Grady. "Sure, that is worse than +all." +</p> + +<p> +Nelson captured a courier boat. +</p> + +<p> +"Stopped the news," quoth O'Grady. +</p> + +<p> +But Nelson did worse; he bombarded Bastia, +"bringing the houses and the staiples and things +down about the poor craytures' ears." Thus the old +Irish middy. +</p> + +<p> +Yes; and Nelson was taking notes all the while, and +afterwards furnished Lord Hood with an excellent +report upon Bastia and its defences. +</p> + +<p> +He was detailed therefore to cruise with his little +squadron off Bastia, and in fact to blockade it. On +February 20th he drove the French from a work they +were erecting to the south of the place. +</p> + +<p> +Dundas was commander of the forces at St. Fiorenzo, +between him and Nelson a difference of opinion +occurred with regard to Bastia. +</p> + +<p> +Nelson, be it remembered, was a most courageous +man, and his enemies therefore said he was too +rash. +</p> + +<p> +One of his mottoes was reported to be, "Hang +manœuvres, go at 'em." +</p> + +<p> +He did "go at 'em" to some purpose, as Nile and +Trafalgar afterwards proved. +</p> + +<p> +But he could not induce Dundas to go at Bastia in +the way he (Nelson) would have done. +</p> + +<p> +As Sir David Dundas was a Scotsman, and Scotsmen +in those days were born with swords instead of +silver spoons in their mouths—using the swords +afterwards to "mak' the siller speens," he could not have +been otherwise than a brave man, but he was also a +cautious one. +</p> + +<p> +"If," says Nelson in a letter to his wife, just after +a brush with the enemy, "I had carried with me five +hundred troops, I should to a certainty have stormed +the town, and I believe it might have been carried. +Armies go so slow, that seamen think they never mean +to go forward, but I dare say they act upon a surer +principle, though <i>we</i> seldom fail." +</p> + +<p> +"Our fine fellows," he adds, "don't mind shot any +more than if they were peas." +</p> + +<p> +But the day of battle came at last, Hood having +arrived with reinforcements. And on the 4th of +April our men were landed, and the siege was +commenced. Not a large army, but little over 1,200 men, +consisting of seamen, marines, and soldiers. +</p> + +<p> +The island of Corsica, reader, is a very beautiful +one, and it never looked more lovely perhaps than +some days before the batteries of the British opened +fire. Yonder were the ships at anchor in the blue and +tranquil sea, the white houses of the town seeming to +sleep and dream under the low but fortified hills; and +the wild and lovely mountains in the rear, greenwooded +half way up, with many a glade and glen between. +</p> + +<p> +Now this siege of Bastia, be it remembered, spoke +volumes for the invincibility of the seamen and marines +under Hood, and indeed it redounds to the honour and +glory of all who fought there, for the new general, +D'Aubunt, who had succeeded Dundas, was of the +same opinion as his predecessor, namely, that the siege +of Bastia was "a visionary and rash attempt"; he +therefore washed his hands so completely of the affair, +that he sent neither men nor guns to aid Hood's brave +fellows, under the command of Lieutenant-Colonel +Villettes and our hero Nelson. +</p> + +<p> +Guns were dragged up almost inaccessible heights, +and everything being ready by the 11th of April, an +officer was sent with a flag of truce to demand the +surrender of the place. The answer was as insolent as +it was bombastic. +</p> + +<p> +"Tell your admiral I have hot shot for your ships +and bayonets for your troops. Probably when about +two-thirds of our brave men are killed, we shall then +trust to the generosity of the British." +</p> + +<p> +The firing commenced at once therefore, and on the +22nd the place capitulated, the tricolours of France +were hauled down, and British flags hoisted in their +place. This is what bold Nelson called "the most +glorious sight a Briton could experience, four thousand +five hundred men laying down their arms to one +thousand British soldiers who were serving as +marines!" +</p> + +<p> +At this siege Nelson was wounded in the back. Not +severely, however. +</p> + +<p> +The Scotch surgeon's-mate characterised the wound +as "a scratch," and the hero himself made but light of +it. For, frail and ill though his body might have +appeared, he was well inured to fatigue, to mental +suffering, and to pain also. +</p> + +<p> +Probably no captain was ever more loved by his +officers and men than Horatio Nelson was on board the +<i>Agamemnon</i>, of which ship he was so justly proud. +The man had indeed a most bewitching manner about +him, despite the fact that he was a most strict service +officer. +</p> + +<p> +To the junior midshipmen he ever behaved as a +father, drawing them out when shy, encouraging them +in every way in the performance of their duties, and +inculcating in them reverence for God on high, +obedience to command, and love for their king and +country. +</p> + +<p> +He used to have the gunroom officers to dine with +him by turns, not in large batches, but in well-chosen +groups at all events. One or two wardroom officers +would also be at these dinner parties, and this truly +great man never failed to put every one on the very +best of terms, not only with himself, but with +everybody else. On such nights there was no preaching +either to or at the youngsters, and this was probably +the reason why dining with the captain was considered +such a treat. There was, of course, the more carnal +reason also—"a good blow out." Well, young fellows +are, young fellows, and "a good blow out" is a treat to +growing youth. +</p> + +<p> +I am pleased to say that Lord Raventree and Tom +Bure soon became very good friends. Both had been +at the siege, and neither had shown the white feather, +even when shot tore up the ground near them, scattering +stones and splinters all around, and wounding +seamen or soldiers. They did not show the white +feather, but more than once during those eleven days +they felt its touch. It was one evening, when the +firing was at its very hottest, that Tom, being stationed +not far from young Raventree, looked about and smiled +in a friendly, companionable kind of way. +</p> + +<p> +"Are you afraid, Raventree?" said Tom. +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Entre nous</i>, Yes," said his lordship. "How do you +feel?" +</p> + +<p> +"Much as you do," answered Tom. "It is a funny +sort of fear though. I'm afraid I'm a coward at heart, +and that everybody will soon find me out; then I'll be +shot, I suppose, and serve me right too." +</p> + +<p> +Both Merryweather and O'Grady were at the siege, +and perhaps, though they certainly felt no fear, they +were not altogether easy in mind. +</p> + +<p> +"Och! bother, Mr. Merryweather," Tom heard +O'Grady say, "this is no fighting at all. I'm itching +all over to have my cutlass in my two hands, and a +Frenchman or two forenenst me." +</p> + +<p> +"I'm not itching," said Merryweather, laughing, +"only Irishmen and Scotchmen itch, but I'm +burning to get to close quarters." +</p> + +<p> +"Ah! Mr. Merryweather, you will have your joke; +but, you see, this battery business is a foine thing for +sodjers—look out, there's a shot coming—for sodjers +or sailors?" +</p> + +<p> +Another shot filled O'Grady's mouth with grit. He +spat gravel and blood for half an hour, and didn't say +much more. But none knew better than this old +midshipman how to train a gun, and he did his best to +repay the French for nearly knocking his front teeth +out. +</p> + +<p> +Both Raventree and Tom had a chance of fighting +side by side some months afterwards, at the siege of +Calvi; and perhaps, during the whole course of this +sad and eventful war, no operations were more trying +to the health and strength of our brave sailors, and the +troops who fought shoulder to shoulder with them in +the batteries, than those at Calvi. +</p> + +<p> +During this long and trying siege, Nelson had as his +colleague the gallant Sir Charles Stuart, a man quite +after his own heart; a man who was never more happy +than when in action, and the hotter the better; a man +too who, like Horatio, never spared himself, and who +slept in the advanced battery every night. +</p> + +<p> +The guns too—five-and-twenty pieces of heavy +ordnance—had to be dragged to the different batteries, +mounted and all, but fought by seaman, with the +exception of an artilleryman to point the guns. +</p> + +<p> +Was it any wonder that the men fell ill under such +hardships, exposed to the burning sun, and in a climate +which, during the autumn months, was far from +healthy? Of two thousand men, more than half were +sick, we are told, and the rest looked like so many +phantoms or scarecrows. +</p> + +<p> +Yet Nelson describes himself as like a reed among +oak trees bending before the storm, while his men—his +Hearts of Oak—were laid low by it. "All the +prevailing disorders have attacked me," he wrote, "but +I have not strength enough for them to fasten upon." +</p> + +<p> +Nelson, it seems, had lived to find out a fact well +known to medical men, that thin, nervous people will +often recover from illnesses that prostrate and kill +strong, full-blooded men in a few days. +</p> + +<p> +This puts me in mind of a remark once made to +Horatio Nelson by his Scotch surgeon's mate. The +captain was attacked by acute pain in the side during +the night, and the honest medico thought it as well to +administer a good dose of a medicine which in another +form is used in the Highlands as a panacea for every +ill—namely, spirits. +</p> + +<p> +"I'd drink the rum," said Nelson, "but I fear I am +attacked by inflammation, and the rum may increase +it." +</p> + +<p> +"Tak' up your dram," said the Scot. "Inflammation? +Man, <i>there's no enough blood in a' your body +to mak' a decent inflammation!</i>" +</p> + +<p> +Nelson drank his rum, sighed, and slept. +</p> + +<p> +At this siege, although so many died of illness, the +loss caused by shot and shell was comparatively slight. +</p> + +<p> +But a very sad loss indeed befel Nelson. A shell +bursting near the battery bespattered him with sand +and gravel. An officer and several men with Nelson +had thrown themselves on their faces when the shell +was approaching; the latter arose bleeding freely from +the mouth and nostrils. He only complained, however, +of pain in his right eye. And so determined was he +to continue his duty, that he could not be prevailed +upon to lie in bed more than one day. +</p> + +<p> +The sight, however, was destroyed, though not at +once. +</p> + +<p> +Now, it will hardly be easily credited, that +notwithstanding Nelson's valour and energy at both the sieges +of which I have given a brief description, his services +were scarcely mentioned in the reports sent to the +Admiralty at home. +</p> + +<p> +No wonder that a man of his proud and sensitive +nature felt himself sadly aggrieved to be thus neglected. +"For one hundred and ten days," he wrote, "have I +been actually engaged at sea and on shore against the +enemy; three actions have I fought against ships; two +against Bastia in my ship; four boat actions; two +villages taken; and twelve sail of vessels burnt. I do +not know that anyone has done more. I have had the +comfort to be always applauded by my commander-in-chief, +but never to be rewarded. And what is still +more mortifying, for services in which I have been +wounded others have been praised, who at the time of +these actions were far away, and snug in bed. They +have not done me justice." +</p> + +<p> +"But never mind," he adds, "one of these times I +shall have a whole Gazette to myself." +</p> + +<p> +It must have been thoughts like these, combined +with weakness of body, not to say positive illness, that +caused the hero at this time of his career to dream of +home. Ay, not to dream of it only, but to long for +the refreshing solace of a humble cottage in the +country. In Norfolk, no doubt. +</p> + +<p> +Nelson, I have already said, was not in the habit of +preaching to his junior middies, or at them either, +when he invited them to dinner (although in my own +time I have known captains do this, and quite take +the wind out of the poor lads' sails). But, nevertheless, +many a time and oft, by night especially, he would get +hold of some one or other of his boys on the quarterdeck, +and walking along by his side, perhaps holding +him by the arm just above the elbow, would give him +many a bit of sound advice, and many a kindly word +of encouragement. +</p> + +<p> +One night, shortly after the siege of Calvi, although +still suffering with his eye, he put his hand kindly on +Tom's shoulder, and began to talk to him and to draw +him out. +</p> + +<p> +It was a bright, beautiful moonlight night, the great +clouds of canvas bellying out before the breeze, and +the waves to the south'ard all a-sparkle, as if the +fairies were raining showers of flashing diamonds on +them. +</p> + +<p> +He had often given Tom good advice, but all he said +to-night was that he was pleased with his conduct, and +would do all he could to advance him. +</p> + +<p> +"You're a Norfolk lad, aren't you?" he said. +</p> + +<p> +"No, sir; that is—yes. My father was, you know, +sir." +</p> + +<p> +"Your father was a brave sailor, Tom Bure; but I am +glad you too have come to our service. Soldiers are +not fit to hold the candle to sailors." +</p> + +<p> +"No, sir." +</p> + +<p> +"They're too slow. Too much manœuvring. Not +enough dash and go. Well, lad, I still have your +letter. That was what got you into the service. Our +Merryweather mentioned you to Admiral Hood though, +but he—excellent fellow—is troubled with a bad +memory at times." +</p> + +<p> +Then he laughed as he added, "You're a capital +diplomatist though. What an excellent idea, to go to +my dear father's house to write your letter." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, sir!" cried Tom, looking up in the captain's +face, "I assure you I did not go there for the purpose +of writing that letter. I wanted so much to see you, +and I didn't know you had gone." +</p> + +<p> +"I believe you, boy; I believe you. The letter +was a forlorn hope then?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, sir; all the world seemed so forgetful and +cold to me then——" +</p> + +<p> +"Just as I feel it now, Tom; so cold! so forgetful!" +</p> + +<p> +"And," continued Tom, "you had spoken to me so +kindly once in the garden, that day when you were +planting cabbages, you know." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, lad, the day I was planting cabbages. Egad, +Tom, I wish I were planting cabbages now." +</p> + +<p> +"They wouldn't grow on board ship very well, sir, +and you can't go on shore." +</p> + +<p> +"Why?" +</p> + +<p> +"Because your country has such need of you, sir." +</p> + +<p> +Nelson looked at him for a moment in silence, then +sighed. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, sir, I wrote the letter because I felt I would +rather be a cabin boy in your ship than an officer +in any other." +</p> + +<p> +"Silly lad! But tell me, Tom, all about Dan, Daddy +Dan you called him, Merryweather says. Daddy +Dan's cottage and your adopted sister Ruth. Pretty +cottage, isn't it?" +</p> + +<p> +Then Tom felt in his element, and launched at once +into an ocean of praise of his cottage home, and Dan and +Ruth and poor dead-and-gone Bob. Nelson seemed to +listen hungrily to the lad's story of home, of the house +itself, of the garden, with its wealth of old-fashioned +flowers; of the porch around the cottage door, with +its sweet and fragrant jessamine; of the rustic bridge +across the stream; of loving, gentle, Meg, the collie, who +used to rest her cheek so fondly against poor Bob's +chest; of the tall, tall poplar trees, so tall that when +not a breath of wind would be stirring the grass on +the earth, their tops were always gently moving, and +seemed always whispering something to the passing +clouds; and about the calm dark waters of the placid +broads, with green reeds softly rustling round them; +of the wild birds that made their home among the +reeds; and about wild flowers, rich and rare, that were +scattered over marsh and morass. +</p> + +<p> +Tom stopped at last, half afraid he had said too +much. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, boy," said Nelson, "how you have pleased and +delighted me! How I should like to have just such a +happy home. 'Tis now the dream of my life." +</p> + +<p> +Tom looked timidly up into his face. +</p> + +<p> +Could he be mistaken? he wondered. Was it some +trick the moonbeams were playing? or were there +really tears in Nelson's eyes? +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap0205"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER V. +<br><br> +THE GLORIOUS OLD "AGAMEMNON." +</h3> + +<p class="poem2"> + "Our barque is on the waters deep, our bright blades in our hand,<br> + Our birthright is the ocean vast, we scorn the girdled land;<br> + And the hollow wind is our music brave, and none can bolder be<br> + Then the hoarse-tongued tempest, roaring o'er a proud and swelling sea.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem2"> + "The warrior of the land may mount the wild horse in his pride,<br> + But a fiercer steed we dauntless breast—the untamed ocean tide;<br> + And a nobler tilt our bark careers, as it stems the saucy wave,<br> + While the herald storm peals o'er the deep the glories of the brave."<br> + —MOTHERWELL.<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +It must not be thought that Tom Bure's +life was a very easy one, even when on +board ship, and far away from battle and +siege. A sailor's life in those good old +days was not confined to roasting +peanuts, or eating winkles with a pin. +It was "hard tack and salt horse" with Tom in the +gunroom, and hard work on deck. Nelson believed in +bringing up his midshipmen as men, thorough men, +who could do duty before the mast below or aloft. +</p> + +<p> +There wasn't a midshipman in the <i>Agamemnon</i> that +would be ashamed to dip his hand in a bucket of tar +or slush, if there was any occasion to, or do any other +duty whatsoever either on poop or fo'c's'le. Work kept +the youngsters healthy, and when healthy they were as +happy as the day was long. Nor was their education +neglected. In a year at the most from the siege +of Calvi, Tom Bure, Josiah Nisbet, and even Lord +Raventree were going to pass their examination for +lieutenancies, or at all events they were going to make +a brave attempt to do so. +</p> + +<p> +The examinations in those times were far more +practicable and less theoretical, and of course less +scientific, than they are in our day. The <i>Agamemnon</i> +was not lighted by electricity; the power of steam +was unknown; there was no such thing as moving +guns by machinery, nor any patent reefing tackle. +But a lieutenant at his examination was placed with +his ship in all sorts of hypothetical positions of danger +and difficulty, and expected to be able to extricate her +therefrom. +</p> + +<p> +On that green cloth in front of the President of +the Board and the examining officers, all kinds of +storms and hurricanes raged, and all sorts of battles +were fought. The ship was taken aback, she was +thrown on her beam ends, boats were washed away, +bulwarks were rent and torn, and sails riven into roaring, +rattling ribbons, and the officer who aspired to be +captain must know, and be able to tell quickly and +decidedly, how best to encounter every difficulty. +Enemies' ships appeared too on the horizon of the green +cloth, and the candidate's frigate had to meet them, +two to one sometimes. He had to fight them or chase +them, batter them, burn them, or scupper them; his +own ship too might take fire, or his own rudder be +blown away with shot or shell, or he might have to +lay alongside the foe to board her with cutlass and pike. +Oh, I can assure you, reader, the examination was +a right tough and right practicable one, and it needed +a Heart of Oak to face it; but having passed with +flying colours, you felt indeed you were a man, and +could face the traditional number of Frenchmen in +the field of battle, according to your nationality—three +if you were English, five if Scotch. +</p> + +<p> +Besides, to one who really loved his profession there +was probably less difficulty in a practical examination +of this sort than in the technical ordeal one has to +pass now-a-days. And now-a-days you can cram, and +having passed, forget one half the useless and senseless +subjects you have been crammed with. +</p> + +<p> +There was no cramming in Nelson's time. The +examinations were terribly real, just as the Spanish +and French fleets were real; every question the Board +put went straight to the mark, like a British cannon +ball. +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * * * +</p> + +<p> +Ever hear of Hotham? Admiral Hotham? Well, +he certainly does not live in our hearts as do Hood +and Howe and Hardy, Collingwood and Nelson. But, +nevertheless, Hotham was a bit of a power in those +days. He had command of the fleet about this time, +but he was rather easy going, though brave enough +after a fashion. He lacked "go" and enthusiasm. +Sir W. Hamilton, who was the British plenipotentiary +at the Court of Naples—his wife, the famous Lady +Hamilton, Nelson's guiding star—summed up the +character of Hotham prettily, and in a very brief +sentence. "<i>Entre nous</i>," he writes to Nelson, "our +old friend Hotham is not quite awake enough for +such a command as that of the British fleet in the +Mediterranean, although he is the best creature +imaginable." +</p> + +<p> +Best creature indeed! Who wanted best creatures +in stirring times like these? Men who were +good-natured and fat perhaps, who loved a pipe and old +port, who could tell a good story after dinner, and go +to sleep in an arm chair. Verily, there were men in +the service in those days—pitchforked into power +because they happened to be titled or had interest—who +could not have made their mark behind a draper's +counter. +</p> + +<p> +Comparisons are odious perhaps, but we cannot help +making them sometimes. Just think of these two +men then for a moment, Nelson and Hotham, the +latter all but minus ambition, certainly minus that +burning ambition which is part and portion of the soul +of every true hero—taking things as they came. +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "Contented wi' little, canty wi' mair,"<br> +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +but hardly going out of his way to fight for fame and +glory; the former full of ardour and zeal, and a noble +desire to do the best for his king and country. When +Hotham got word, on March 10th, '95, that the French +were actually on the sea in force, near the Isle of +Marguerite, Nelson felt sure that a grand general +action was close at hand, and writes to his wife +thus: +</p> + +<p> +"My character and good name are in my own keeping. +Life with disgrace is dreadful. A glorious death +is to be envied; and if anything happens to me, +recollect that death is a debt we have all to pay, +and whether now or a few years hence can signify but +very little." +</p> + +<p> +True philosophy that; but if poor Nelson expected +that our old friend Hotham, "the best creature imaginable," +was about to lead him on either to death or very +much victory, he was disagreeably disappointed. The +French fleet, however, were sighted at last, and the +British were in battle array, but the light winds that +had been cavorting all round the compass died away +into a dead calm, or nearly. +</p> + +<p> +I must give the French the honour that is here due +to them by saying that during the calm they made a +very gallant show indeed, but as soon as it came on to +blow they—ran away. +</p> + +<p> +Hotham chased them. +</p> + +<p> +Bravo! Hotham. +</p> + +<p> +The French cracked on most furiously and famously! +</p> + +<p> +Determined to win the race, if not the battle! +</p> + +<p> +So hot was the race that the great line of battleship, +<i>Ca Ira</i>, 84 guns, carried away her fore and main +topmasts, and fell behind a bit. The French had had +a fair start of about six miles. +</p> + +<p> +A frigate of ours, the <i>Inconstant</i>, closed in, but the +awful iron hail from the <i>Ca Ira</i> was too much for her, +and she had to withdraw. +</p> + +<p> +Though two other great Frenchmen are close at +hand—the <i>Sans Culotte</i>, 120 guns, and the <i>Jean +Barras</i>—Nelson, in his <i>Agamemnon</i>, boldly heads for the +<i>Ca Ira</i>, that had been taken in tow by <i>Le Censeur</i>. +</p> + +<p> +This fight between Nelson's ship on the one hand, +and the two Frenchmen on the other, was one of the +prettiest and pluckiest bits of fighting it is possible to +imagine. Again and again Nelson raked, the <i>Ca Ira</i> +and he so maneuvered his frigate that, though the +French fought like fiends and did their best, they were +unable to broadside our hero. +</p> + +<p> +Books tell us that the reason why the Frenchmen +fought so pluckily was that they believed they should +receive no quarter if taken, so they used red-hot shot, +and threw Greek fire. +</p> + +<p> +Now, with all due respect for the historians, I +refuse to believe that the French had so bad an +opinion of us. No, let us rather give them the +credit of being honourable and courageous. Why +not be charitable, even to our enemies? for, like +mercy, charity +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "——is twice blessed,<br> + It blesseth him that gives and him that takes.<br> + 'Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes<br> + The throned monarch better than his crown."<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +Night fell at last, and our fight-worn men on board +the <i>Agamemnon</i> sank wearily down to obtain sleep and +rest, even like the soldiers Campbell speaks about in +his beautiful poem, "The Soldier's Dream"— +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "Our bugles sang truce—for the night-cloud had lowered,<br> + And the sentinel stars set their watch in the sky;<br> + And thousands had sunk on the ground overpowered,<br> + The weary to sleep, and the wounded to die."<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +There were, alas! many casualties on board the +<i>Agamemnon</i>, and many wounded men in the cockpit +fell asleep ere morning light, never to wake more in +this world. +</p> + +<p> +Both the surgeon and his mates were as kind and +gentle to those under their charge as kind could be. +</p> + +<p> +Poor little Raventree was struck down by a splinter +of wood close by Tom Bure's side, and was carried +below from the blood-slippery deck in the arms of a +sturdy sailor. +</p> + +<p> +It was not until after dark that Tom found time to +go to see his friend. He was very weak from loss of +blood, and looked ghastly white in the lantern's dim +light, as he lay there in his hammock, but he smiled +feebly when Tom pressed his hand. +</p> + +<p> +"I've done my duty," he said; "and what do you +think, Tom? The admiral has been down to see me, +and he talked so kindly, Tom, I could have cried." +</p> + +<p> +"Well," said Tom Bure, "keep up your heart, you +lost such a lot of blood. I tried to carry you below, +but you were far too heavy." +</p> + +<p> +"But you bound up my arm with your own neckerchief, +Paddy"—Paddy was the Irish surgeon—"it was +so good of you." +</p> + +<p> +"Never a bit of it, Raventree. It may be my turn +next, who knows?" +</p> + +<p> +"The captain says he is going to renew the fight +to-morrow morning; so sorry I won't be in it," sighed +Raventree. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, good-night. Sleep if the pain will let you." +</p> + +<p> +At earliest dawn the battle was renewed as far as +Nelson's portion of it was concerned, and very soon the +<i>Ca Ira</i> and <i>Le Censeur</i> struck to the <i>Agamemnon</i>. +</p> + +<p> +Nelson had now a proposal to make to Admiral +Hotham, and he made all haste to lay it before him. +</p> + +<p> +Tom Bure was Nelson's coxswain, so he had an +opportunity of getting on board the admiral's ship, and +even heard the conversation between his chief and +Hotham. +</p> + +<p> +The <i>Illustrious</i> and <i>Courageux</i> were both disabled—British +ships—and Nelson's suggestion was to leave +these two and the two prizes with four frigates, and to +chase and destroy the French fleet with the others. +</p> + +<p> +Hotham laughed blandly, kindly even. +</p> + +<p> +"You're too impulsive, Nelson," he said. "I don't +think we had better give chase. We must be +contented. We have done very well." +</p> + +<p> +Nelson returned to the ship silent and crestfallen. +He made but one remark to Tom: +</p> + +<p> +"You heard what our bold admiral said, Mr. Bure?" +</p> + +<p> +"I was close beside you, sir." +</p> + +<p> +"'Done very well,' he said. Bah! Had we taken +ten sail-of-the-line, and allowed the eleventh to escape, +when it was possible to take her, I should not have +called it enough. Had we got at them we should have +taken or destroyed the whole fleet." +</p> + +<p> +It was not until the 14th of July that Hotham +again caught sight of the French. +</p> + +<p> +Raventree was by this time well and on duty again, +and Nelson had promoted him to mate, or acting +lieutenant. And undoubtedly the young fellow deserved +his promotion, which was afterwards confirmed by the +Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty. +</p> + +<p> +There was no great battle this time either, between +the French and British, although one ship, the <i>L'Alcide</i>, +74 guns, struck to the <i>Cumberland</i>. +</p> + +<p> +A terrible thing now occurred, however. This +unfortunate <i>L'Alcide</i>, on board which were no less than +six hundred men, caught fire in the fore-top, and in a +very short time was sheeted in flames fore and aft. +</p> + +<p> +Boats were despatched from every British ship that +was anywhere near, and they did all in their power to +save the crew. But, alas! in the dreadful scene that +followed no less than three hundred were burned alive, +or perished in the waves. +</p> + +<p> +Such is war at sea, dear reader. It was very awful +in those days, it will be ten times more terrible when +Britain's naval might next rides over the waves— +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "——to match another foe;<br> + And sweep through the deep,<br> + While the stormy winds do blow;<br> + While the battle rages loud and long,<br> + And the stormy winds do blow."<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +But what need Britain fear, boys, so long as she is +true to her own glorious story? +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "The meteor flag of Britain<br> + Shall yet terrific burn,<br> + Till danger's troubled night depart,<br> + And the star of peace return."<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +But— +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "The spirits of our fathers<br> + Shall start from every wave,<br> + For the deck it was their field of fame,<br> + And ocean was their grave.<br> + Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell,<br> + Our manly hearts shall glow,<br> + As we sweep through the deep,<br> + While the stormy winds do blow;<br> + While the battle rages loud and long,<br> + And the stormy winds do blow."<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +To tell of all the gallant deeds that Nelson +performed in the invincible <i>Agamemnon</i>, with the bold +Hearts of Oak that so thoroughly trusted him and +loved him, would take all the rest of this book. +</p> + +<p> +In this year, and towards its close, Hotham was +relieved—after all his arduous conflicts perhaps he +needed a rest—and a mightier than he, namely, Sir +John Jervis,* became admiral of the Mediterranean +fleet, and Nelson took his ship to Leghorn to undergo +repairs. +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="footnote"> +* Afterwards made Earl of St. Vincent. +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +She certainly required refitting. She was an honour +to her captain in one sense, for her terribly battered +condition showed how bravely and well he had fought. +We are told that every yard, mast, and sail was riddled, +torn, or splintered with shot, and that even her hull +was only kept together by cables! +</p> + +<p> +In that glorious old <i>Agamemnon</i> Nelson had captured, +burned, or destroyed, in one way and another, no less +than fifty sail of vessels in about two years' time. +</p> + +<p> +But he had to leave his battered old ship in June—with +sorrow, no doubt, for he loved the <i>Agamemnon</i> as +if she had been a living thing. He hoisted his flag now +on board the 74-gun ship <i>Captain</i>, with the rank of +commodore. +</p> + +<p> +And the <i>Agamemnon</i> went home to England with a convoy. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap0206"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER VI. +<br><br> +A DUEL TO THE DEATH. +</h3> + +<p class="poem2"> + "The stern joy that warriors feel<br> + In foemen worthy of their steel."—SCOTT.<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +This story of mine, lads, is not altogether +fiction. Indeed there is very little fiction +about it, and none at all in those +portions that speak of the brave deeds of +our Hearts of Oak in those dashing days +of old. +</p> + +<p> +But I should not be true historian were I to lead +any of my readers to infer that we invariably had it +all our own way on the wave. War would be the +merest picnic, destitute of the slightest honour or +glory, if there were no terrible obstacles to encounter +and to crush. The navy certainly was never beaten +on the whole or in fleets; but in single ship actions we +sometimes had the worst of it. +</p> + +<p> +Nelson knew how to fight, and he knew also that it +was discreet to sheer off rather than be captured by +vastly superior numbers. In the <i>Agamemnon</i>, for +instance, he had once been chased for twenty-four +hours by a fleet of three-and-twenty French ships. +The odds here were a trifle too great for even Nelson's +powers, and had I been in command of the <i>Agamemnon</i> +I'm not sure I wouldn't have ran away just as she did. +Fact! +</p> + +<p> +The French greatly respected Nelson. They wanted +to catch him all the same. His opinion, however, of +the French was not a very exalted one. During that +chase he told Merryweather on the poop that the +enemy were neither seamen nor officers, else they +could have caught him easy. He appeared grieved +about it. +</p> + +<p> +"Really, sir," said Mr. Merryweather, smiling, "you +seem to be vexed that they haven't caught us." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, not quite that," said the commodore; "but +I can't bear to see even Frenchmen making fools of +themselves." +</p> + +<p> +"It's an inshore wind you see, Merryweather," he +added, "else we 'ed soon have our own fleet out to +assist us, and, small in comparison though it is, you'd +soon see those Frenchmen working to windward +then." +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * * +</p> + +<p> +I have already told the reader about the capture of +Corsica. It did not prove of much service to us in +the long run, however; for now a new page of history +is turned over, and we find France in league with Spain +against us, so it is deemed expedient to evacuate +Corsica. +</p> + +<p> +The Spanish were probably our friends at heart, +but that signified very little. They were now going to +assist in destroying our ships. +</p> + +<p> +Spain had at this time a splendid navy, as far as +ships were concerned; but their officers were certainly +not much to boast about. Indeed, they needed no one +to boast about them, they could do this themselves; +but their courage after all was of the Bombastes +Furioso type. +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "Whoever dares these boots displace<br> + Must meet Bombastes face to face."<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +The Corsicans somehow were not ill-pleased to be +rid of the British, and the French were overjoyed at +the coming evacuation. Nelson superintended it with +all his skill as a sailor, and all his adroitness as an +undoubtedly clever man. +</p> + +<p> +Of course the French tried to throw as many +obstacles in his way as they could think of. The +property of the British was confiscated, and there was +even a conspiracy on foot to seize the viceroy. +</p> + +<p> +Nelson showed his usual energy on this occasion. +He despatched Commander Merryweather with a +message into Bastia, to the effect that if there was +the slightest opposition made to the embarkation of +persons and property, he (Nelson) would batter down +the town about the committee's ears. +</p> + +<p> +The committee were Frenchmen who had formed a +government, and thought they could do just what they +pleased, and do it in their own way. They had not +only sequestrated British property, but stationed +armed Corsicans everywhere to guard it, while a +privateer was moored near the mole to prevent the +exit of our merchant craft. When Merryweather drew +near, he found not only the guns of the privateer +pointed at his boats, but muskets levelled at him from +the mole head. +</p> + +<p> +Merryweather, however, had looked down the +muzzles of French guns once or twice too often to be +easily frightened, so he delivered his message, instead +of sheering off as the committee had fully expected +he would. +</p> + +<p> +"And now," said Merryweather, pulling out his +watch, "I have delivered my message, and I give you +precisely a quarter of an hour to deliberate. If I do +not have your answer by that time, Nelson's guns shall +open fire." +</p> + +<p> +The answer came in five minutes, and a very +practical one it was. The very sentinels had fled at +the threat of Nelson's fire, and the vessels were +permitted at once to leave the mole. +</p> + +<p> +The embarkation occupied the greater part of a +week, and, independent of private property, the public +stores thus snatched from the harpy claws of the +French were worth to our country about a quarter of +a million of money. +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * * +</p> + +<p> +"Well, boys," said Nelson one evening to Raventree +and Tom Bure, who were standing by the bulwarks in +the ship's waist, "you have a better chance of +prize-money now than ever." +</p> + +<p> +"Indeed, sir," said Lord Raventree. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes; we have Spain to fight, as well as France." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, sir," said Raventree, "I suppose there is also +a better chance of honour and glory; for I don't care +so much for the gold." +</p> + +<p> +"And you, Mr. Bure?" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh," said Tom, laughing, "I should like a share of +both." +</p> + +<p> +"Candidly spoken, lads, and I can assure you that +it won't be my fault if you don't have both. I'm +going to make the sea uncommonly hot for somebody." +</p> + +<p> +It was on the frigate <i>Minerve</i> that this conversation +took place, and on which Nelson's broad pennant +was now hoisted. +</p> + +<p> +He was proceeding, in company with the <i>Blanche</i>, +to Porto Ferrajo, his object being to assume the +command of the fleet there, after which "the fun +was to begin." +</p> + +<p> +But adventures commenced before this, one at least; +for on the 29th of December our hero Tom, who +happened to be on the outlook, hailed the quarterdeck, +or rather poop. +</p> + +<p> +Merryweather, who had joined Nelson's ship, and +was then on deck, knew that Tom had good news to +impart from the very tone of his voice. +</p> + +<p> +"A sail in sight, Mr. Bure?" he said. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, sir; a large Spanish frigate. I can easily +make out her colours." +</p> + +<p> +This was just off Carthagena, and at once the ship +was cleared for action. In less than three minutes +every man was at his quarters. +</p> + +<p> +A more bravely contested fight than this we have +no account of in all the war. +</p> + +<p> +I have said already, that though the Spanish ships +were good, they were badly officered. In the case of +the <i>Santa Sabina</i>, however, it was quite the reverse. +</p> + +<p> +You must remember, reader, that after the union of +Scotland and England, in which our king, James VI., +fell heir to the English throne, there was no such +outlet as before for the untameable courage of our +great Highland families. The scions of these houses +despised trade—they were warlike to a degree—therefore +they took service freely with their ancient +allies the French, and indeed drew sword for any +good nation, when in a good cause they could win +honour and glory. +</p> + +<p> +And this <i>Santa Sabina</i>, that scorned to fly, but +boldly faced and haughtily addressed the hero Nelson +himself, was commanded by Don Jacobo Stuart, or, in +plain English, Captain Jamie Stuart. He was a direct +descendant of the Duke of Berwick, son of James II. +Probably there were several other Scottish officers in +that ship as well, for our clans keep well together. +History, however, does not say. +</p> + +<p> +Now let Nelson himself, in his terse seaman language, +speak of what followed. +</p> + +<p> +"When I hailed the Don," he says, "I told him, this +is an English frigate, and demanded his surrender. +His answer was noble, and such as became the illustrious +family from which he descended—'And this is a +<i>Spanish</i> frigate, and you may begin as soon as you +please.'" +</p> + +<p> +"I have no idea," continues Nelson, "of a closer or +sharper battle. The force to a gun the same, and +nearly the same number of men, we having 250. +During the action I asked him several times to +surrender; but his answer was, 'No, sir, not while I +have the means of fighting left.' +</p> + +<p> +"When only himself, of all the officers, was left alive +he hailed, and said he would fight no more, and begged +I would stop firing." +</p> + +<p> +The brave Stuart was then taken prisoner on board +the <i>Minerve</i>, and a prize crew, under the command of +two lieutenants, one of whom was Lieutenant Hardy +an officer of whom Nelson was very fond, and who +comes into our story again later on. The Irish doctor +was also sent to the assistance of the Spanish. Great +indeed was the havoc he found there, the vessel was +badly hurt, and dead and wounded lay around in +dozens, the decks resembling a shambles. +</p> + +<p> +Nor had the <i>Minerve</i> escaped severe damage; so +badly crippled was she, and so many dead and wounded +lay on her decks, or hampered the cockpit, that when +next day four other Spanish ships of war hove in sight, +Nelson was unable to give the veriest show of fight, +and it was only through his energy and skill as a +seaman that he escaped. +</p> + +<p> +These vessels were two frigates and two line of +battle ships, so that, even had he been in the best of +form, discretion would have dictated to the hero that +flight was advisable. +</p> + +<p> +Nelson speaks of Stuart in the highest terms of +praise that one good and brave sailor can use towards +another. +</p> + +<p> +The <i>Sabina</i>, however, had to be abandoned. In other +words, she was re-taken. +</p> + +<p> +And Nelson returned Don Jacobo Stuart his sword, +and sent him under a flag of truce to Spain. +</p> + +<p> +"I felt it," he says, "consonant to the dignity of my +country to do so, and I always act as I feel right +without regard to custom. Stuart," he adds, "was reputed +to be the best officer in Spain, and his men were well +worthy to possess such a commander. He was the +only surviving officer of the ship he fought so nobly." +</p> + +<p> +So ended this awful duel to the death. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap0207"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER VII. +<br><br> +THE BATTLE OF ST. VINCENT. +</h3> + +<p class="poem2"> + "The thunder of the battle-deck,<br> + The lightning flash of war."<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +In my last chapter I stated that Nelson, +with his broad pennant flying on board +the <i>Minerve</i>, met with and fought the +<i>Santa Sabina</i>. I also mentioned that +the <i>Blanche</i> was companion ship to the +<i>Minerve</i>. Where was she then during +the fight? it may be asked. Did Nelson have her +assistance in fighting the gallant Stuart? Was it two +to one after all? +</p> + +<p> +No, certainly not, for during the engagement the +<i>Blanche</i> was far away to windward in chase of the +<i>Ceres</i>, whom she sadly wanted to fight, but who +escaped. +</p> + +<p> +Porto Ferrajo was a strong fortress on the Isle of +Elba, to which, you remember, Napoleon Bonaparte +was banished, but from which he subsequently escaped. +</p> + +<p> +After the evacuation of Corsica, the viceroy of that +island, whom the French would have captured had it +not been for Nelson's guns, was escorted by the hero +to Ferrajo; but Sir Gilbert Elliot—for that was his +name—went afterwards in the <i>Minerve</i> with Nelson to +hold a consultation with the British Admiral of the +fleet (then Sir John Jervis, afterwards Earl St. Vincent), +who was at that time cruising off Cape St. Vincent. +</p> + +<p> +On the 9th of February, '97, Nelson arrived at +Gibraltar, and here he received on board by exchange +the two lieutenants, Culverhouse and the immortal +Hardy, who had been taken prisoners with the +recapture of the <i>Sabina</i>. +</p> + +<p> +And now comes an adventure worth relating. Hardly +had the <i>Minerve</i> got fairly under weigh again than two +Spanish ships of the line got up sail and gave chase. +</p> + +<p> +It seemed indeed that the <i>Minerve</i> would assuredly +be captured now, for no sooner had she entered the +Straits, than the foremost line of battleship outsailed +her consort, and was coming up hand over hand after +Nelson's frigate. +</p> + +<p> +Sir Gilbert Elliot made so sure that the <i>Minerve</i> +would be taken, that he had his state papers all ready +to throw overboard, so that they might not fall into +the hands of the enemy. +</p> + +<p> +Nelson, however, cleared for action. +</p> + +<p> +It would have been madness for him to have +attempted to try conclusions with two lordly liners, +but as the fight was now being forced upon him, he +determined to sell his ship dearly. +</p> + +<p> +Indeed, he never meant to let the Dons get her at all. +</p> + +<p> +Pointing to his flag, he said to an officer near him, +"Before the Spaniards have that bit of bunting I'll +have a tussle with them, and sooner than the ship +should fall into their hands I'll run her on shore." +</p> + +<p> +They were just going below to dinner, when suddenly +there was a cry, "Man overboard." +</p> + +<p> +In a moment all was bustle and stir. Lieutenant +Hardy and a few sailors sprang into the jolly-boat, +which was at once lowered away to pick up the man. +</p> + +<p> +It was soon evident, however, that the boat could +make no headway on her return against the strong +current. She was rapidly drifting onwards to the +advancing Spanish ship. +</p> + +<p> +Nelson grew excited. +</p> + +<p> +"I will not lose poor Hardy for all the Dons on +earth," he shouted. "Back the mizentop-sail!" +</p> + +<p> +Now it is here where the smile comes in. +</p> + +<p> +That "cockie" Don was full of warlike ardour as +long as the <i>Minerve</i> kept cracking on, but as soon as +Nelson stopped ship, the rapidity with which the Don +began to shorten sail was amusing. +</p> + +<p> +He positively refused what he considered Nelson's +challenge. +</p> + +<p> +So our boat was picked up, stun'sails were clapped +on the <i>Minerve</i>, and with the wind on her quarter, +away she went like a thing of life, and the Dons +were left behind. +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * * * +</p> + +<p> +The following night a still more strange adventure +took place, for in the thickness and darkness Nelson +found himself sailing through what appeared to be a +great fleet of tall spectre ships. +</p> + +<p> +He had actually sailed in, amongst, and through the +Spanish fleet. +</p> + +<p> +This made him very anxious indeed to join Sir John +Jervis, which, to his great joy, he did two days after. +</p> + +<p> +He now left the <i>Minerve</i>, and rejoined his own good +ship the <i>Captain</i>. +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> +THE BATTLE OF ST. VINCENT. +</p> + +<p> +Such was the respect and even affection that Nelson +never failed to inspire in the breasts not only of his +officers, but even the men under his command, that +those who had once served under him thought +themselves lucky indeed if they could again fight beneath +his flag. Nor was Nelson himself averse to being +surrounded by "ken't" faces; he was like a father to +his people, and they to him felt as children. +</p> + +<p> +It is confidence like this that begets bravery and +deeds of derring-do, whether in the field or on the +battle-deck, and I have no hesitation in saying, that +a 40-gun frigate with bold Nelson in command, was as +good as, if not better than, most ships of the line. +</p> + +<p> +I think, however, that Nelson to some extent +abhorred a cut-and-dry style of fighting. Like all brave +men, he was nervously excitable; he became in a +measure intoxicated with the sound of battle, like the +war horse who scents the combat from afar, but he +never lost his head. He was quick to see any offered +advantage or mistake of the enemy, and to profit by +it at once. His object too was often, at the commencement +of a fight, to confuse, bewilder, and paralyse the +enemy, and sometimes they never regained self-control +until the battle was over. +</p> + +<p> +You have heard, reader, of that style of argument, or +rather counter argument, which is called the <i>reductio ad +absurdum</i>, and also of the "descent from the sublime +to the ridiculous." Pardon me if I use one of these, +the better to illustrate my great hero Nelson's character. +</p> + +<p> +When, then, I was a boy of thirteen or fourteen, a +wiry, big, strong Scotch "nickum," I was at what is +called a fighting school. I do not believe that a day +ever passed without a fight between two boys. They +were pitched battles; generally arranged during school +hours and fought to the bitter end the same evening. +I myself, although a poor hand at first, eventually fought +my way from the lowest to the highest factions. I +somehow, however, usually preferred fighting a boy who was +bigger and stronger than myself; art came in to my aid, +and if I did happen to be beaten I had no dishonour. +Hut there was one lad who, though of my own age, +was considerably smaller. He was a red-faced, +towsy-headed, nervous tyke of a boy, and—he was more than +a match for me. I had several battles with him, in +which he invariably came on like a wild cat. With +hard-clenched fists he seemed positively to claw at my +face, and for one swinging blow from the shoulder I +got in, he landed half a dozen at least. It was +puzzling, confusing, and paralysing, and I had to lower +my flag each time, with perhaps two pretty black eyes, +a swollen nose, and a few loose teeth. +</p> + +<p> +Now, that boy—his name was John Aberdeen, and +he may possibly read these lines—was a perfect little +Nelson in character. You will see, therefore, why I +have made my descent from the sublime to the +ridiculous. +</p> + +<p> +The morning of the 14th of February was dull and +hazy, the British ships steering southwards with a bit +of westering in it. +</p> + +<p> +Although by no means rough, there was a swell on, +and it must have been a grand sight to see those two +lines of British men-of-war, as straight in column +almost as soldiers on parade, rising and falling on the +ocean billows. +</p> + +<p> +But when, at about one bell in the forenoon watch, +the drum beat to quarters, a still more lordly sight was +visible some distance up to windward, for the mist had +lifted before the morning sun, and there floated one of +the largest and most terrible fleets ever formed in +battle array. Truly they were leviathans afloat. Their +tall dark sides bristling with guns, their lofty riggings +and commanding sails imparting to them a dignity +that was awe-inspiring, a dignity from which the huge +flags of orange and red certainly did not detract. +</p> + +<p> +Not all at once, however, was the picture presented +to the astonished gaze of our British tars, for the huge +fog-curtain was lifted but gradually. +</p> + +<p> +Sir John Jervis was walking the quarter-deck of the +<i>Victory</i> as coolly as if the men had only been piped to +scrub decks, and as the Spanish fleet was gradually +evolved its numbers were reported to him. Did the +officer who made the report, I wonder, imagine for a +single moment that the admiral was going to be deterred +by numbers? +</p> + +<p> +"There are eight sail of the line, Sir John." +</p> + +<p> +"Thank you, Mr. T——." +</p> + +<p> +"There are twenty sail of the line, Sir John." +</p> + +<p> +"Very good, sir." +</p> + +<p> +"There are seven-and-twenty sail of the line, Sir +John. Considering the disparity of numbers, do you +think we are justified in engaging the Dons?" +</p> + +<p> +"Hold, sir!" cried the bold admiral. "Enough of this. +The die is cast, and if there are fifty sail of the line, I +should go through them just the same." +</p> + +<p> +"Hurrah!" cried Hallowell, who was standing near +him; so delighted was he that he clapped the admiral +on the shoulder. "You're right, Sir John, you're +right. We'll fight them, and we'll give the Dons a +hiding too." +</p> + +<p> +It is said that confusion seemed to spread among +the Spaniards from the very first. Parsons says: "They +made the most awkward attempts to form their +line-of-battle, and looked a complete forest massed and +huddled together." +</p> + +<p> +Now, before going further, I wish the reader to cast +his eye down the following columns, which I give by +way of showing the disparity in numbers and guns +between our fleet and that of Spain.* +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="footnote"> +* I have placed Nelson's ship in Italics, also those that were taken. +</p> + +<pre> + BRITISH FLEET. SPANISH FLEET. + + SHIPS. GUNS. SHIPS. GUNS. + + 1 Victory 100 1 Santissima Trinidada 130 + 2 Britannia 100 2 Mexicana 112 + 3 Barfleur 98 3 Principe de Asturias 112 + 4 Prince George 98 4 Conception 112 + 5 Blenheim 90 5 Conde de Regla 112 + 6 Namur 90 6 <i>Salvador del Mundo</i> 112 + 7 <i>Captain</i> 74 7 <i>San Josef</i> 112 + 8 Goliath 74 8 <i>San Nicolas</i> 84 + 9 Excellent 74 9 Oriente 74 + 10 Orion 74 10 Glorioso 74 + 11 Colossus 74 11 Atlante 74 + 12 Egmont 74 12 Conquestador 74 + 13 Culloden 74 13 Soberano 74 + 14 Irresistible 74 14 Firme 74 + 15 Diadem 64 15 Pelago 74 + 16 San Genaro 74 + 17 San Francisco 74 + 18 <i>San Ysidro</i> 74 + 19 San Juan 74 + 20 San Antonio 74 + 21 San Pablo 74 + 22 San Firmin 74 + 23 Neptuna 74 + 24 Bahama 74 + 25 St. Domingo 74 + 26 Terrible 74 + 27 Il Defenso 74 +</pre> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +Seven-and-twenty huge Spanish ships of war opposed +to fifteen British! +</p> + +<p> +Two thousand and two hundred and ninety-two +Spanish guns, against one thousand two hundred and +thirty-two British—nearly two to one. +</p> + +<p> +This glorious fight, on this most memorable +Valentine's-day, began about seven bells in the forenoon +watch, when Admiral Sir John Jervis, with all sail set, +came dashing at the Dons, and passed right through +their lines. Now the Spanish admiral had nine of his +ships down to leeward, and he at once determined to +pass astern of the British fleet, and thus effect a +junction with his divided ships. +</p> + +<p> +And it is at this point where the genius of Nelson +becomes so conspicuous. Remember that the signal +had been made for the whole fleet to engage, and had +he strictly obeyed orders he would have gone on with +the rest of the Britishers, and tacked with them. But +his quick eye—poor fellow, he had now but one—noticed +the Don's intention, and he resolved to frustrate +it at all hazards. He put his helm up, therefore, and +steered straight for the Spaniards. +</p> + +<p> +No more daring, dashing deed was ever done! +</p> + +<p> +Nothing more confusing could have occurred for the +Spanish admiral. +</p> + +<p> +Not a soul on the upper deck of the Captain who did +not marvel. Merryweather confessed afterwards to +Tom Bure that he thought Commodore Nelson had +suddenly gone mad. +</p> + +<p> +Even Tom and Raventree, little though they knew of +naval tactics, could not refrain from talking momentarily +over the affair. But the roar of the guns that had been +stilled for a minute or two recommenced now with +triple force, and Tom had his duty to perform. Yonder +was the mighty <i>Santissima Trinidada</i> towering high +above them, and Nelson in his Captain was close +alongside her. +</p> + +<p> +The position of Nelson's ship at that moment was +not one to be envied, with the monarch of the Spanish +fleet beside him beam to beam, and three-deckers +pouring in their fire fore and aft. +</p> + +<p> +But down to his assistance came the <i>Culloden</i> of +74 guns, bold Troubridge her commander, and the +<i>Blenheim</i> of 90 guns. +</p> + +<p> +The fire of the British ships at this time was terrible +in the extreme. Our brave fellows fought half naked +at their guns, and though messmates fell killed or +wounded on all sides, they were speedily carried or +hauled on one side and the fight went on. There was +no more thought of leaving their batteries among those +Hearts of Oak, than if the battle had been but a mere +parade. +</p> + +<p> +The dangerous position of the <i>Captain</i> may be +imagined when we remember that at one time she was +actually exposed to the fire of no less than nine ships! +</p> + +<p> +Nelson was the hero of this glorious fight. Am I +not right in calling him so, seeing that around his +sadly-mutilated ship the battle raged the fiercest? +</p> + +<p> +But the <i>Captain</i>, with her rigging in tatters, her +fore-top mast gone, and her wheel shot away, was now +almost unmanageable. She was at this time engaged +with two of the enemy's liners—the <i>San Nicholas</i> and +<i>San Josef</i>—and Nelson purposely fouled the former. +</p> + +<p> +The credit of this is due to Miller, his second +captain, who, disabled as the ship was, managed to +lay her aboard the starboard quarter of the Spanish +lee, so that her sprit-sail yard passed over the enemy's +poop, and hooked in her mizen shrouds. +</p> + +<p> +"Away—ay—ay, boarders." +</p> + +<p> +It was a scream, it was a yell from a British throat, +and it thrilled every Heart of Oak on board, and was +answered by a cheer. +</p> + +<p> +With the butt of his musket a soldier of the 69th +(a number of this regiment being on board) dashed in +the window of the Spaniard's upper quarter-gallery and +leapt in. Nelson and many more were with him, Tom +Bure and Raventree among the rest. But they found +the cabin doors secured against them. These were +speedily dashed to pieces. One man in a fight like +this has the strength of three. A volley was fired by +our brave fellows, the Spanish commodore fell, and +hurrying onwards, sword in hand, Nelson found that +the poop had already been taken by Lieut. Berry, and +our friend Merryweather, and that the enemy's ensign +was coming down by the run. Nelson ran forward +and received the submission and the swords of several +officers. +</p> + +<p> +But although the <i>San Nicholas</i> was thus taken, a +pattering musketry fire was kept up from the <i>San +Josef</i>, which was close alongside. +</p> + +<p> +She too must be captured. Nelson felt in form now +to capture a dozen. The order was therefore speedily +given to place sentinels on the ladders to guard the +prisoners of the <i>Nicholas</i>, and more men were ordered +into her from the <i>Captain</i>——to make sure, for +Nelson forgot nothing. Then once more the shout, +"Away—ay—ay, boarders!" +</p> + +<p class="capcenter"> +<a id="img-212"></a> +<br> +<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-212.jpg" alt=""'Away--ay--ay, boarders,' cried Nelson.""> +<br> +"'Away—ay—ay, boarders,' cried Nelson." +</p> + +<p> +Our brave and great hero was at the head of his +men this time, and the <i>San Josef</i> fell as her consort +had fallen. +</p> + +<p> +The captain of the ship on his knees sued for mercy, +saying the admiral was dying of his wounds below. +</p> + +<p> +Nelson says, "I thereupon gave him my hand, and +ordered him to call to his officers and ship's company +that the ship had surrendered, which he did." +</p> + +<p> +Glorious day for Nelson! There on the quarter-deck +of this huge Don, 112 guns, he received the swords of +the vanquished Spaniards. +</p> + +<p> +There comes in here an element of the comic, for by +the hero's side stood the bold bargeman, Bill Fearney, +to whom the swords were given as they were received. +Bill hitched up his trousers, turned his quid in his +mouth, and stuck the swords under his left arm with +less ceremony than if they had been as many fiddlesticks. +</p> + +<p> +The very essence of this gallant fight lies in the fact +that Nelson, having fought almost to the death, his +ship of 74 guns being all but a wreck, puts this +disabled craft of his to such marvellous account, that +he captures two of the enemy's largest ships by the +glorious old British system of boarding. +</p> + +<p> +There they lay, the victor and the vanquished—the +three of them all in a huddle. And was it any wonder +that the <i>Victory</i> and every other British ship cheered +our Nelson as they passed? +</p> + +<p> +I do not feel inclined to say any more about this +glorious battle. To mention the bare unvarnished +facts is enough, and the boy along whose spine there +does not pass a cold thrill of pride and excitement +while reading these is no true Briton. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap0208"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER VIII. +<br><br> +LIFE IN NELSON'S SHIP. +</h3> + +<p class="poem2"> + "The flag of Britannia, the flag of the brave,<br> + Triumphant it floateth o'er land and o'er wave,<br> + All proudly it braveth the battle and blast,<br> + And when tattered with shot it is nailed to the mast."<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +It goes without saying that Nelson +returned thanks, humble but fervent, to +heaven, for his merciful preservation on +the day of battle. +</p> + +<p> +For his services on this Valentine's-day +he was knighted, and also received +the Order of the Bath. He was moreover made +rear-admiral of the blue. +</p> + +<p> +Probably after all it was the private congratulations +that flowed in upon him which affected him the most, +and chief of these, perhaps, were the love and respect +of his ship's crew. Well they knew that Nelson was +not only a true sailor, but in heart and soul almost a +man before the mast. No one ever heard the hero +abuse a man verbally in bullying language with +oaths and fulsome gesture, as many and many a captain +did in those days. Moreover they knew he hated the +lash, and that he even saw the justice of the complaints +of the mutineers of the Nore. +</p> + +<p> +It was when on board the <i>Theseus</i>—the <i>Captain</i> was +almost a wreck—that the men's regard for their +commodore—now admiral—was shown in a manner +essentially sailor-like, and therefore in a measure +innocently childish, for a round-robin was picked up +on the quarter-deck which read as follows: +</p> + +<p> +"Success attend Admiral Nelson! God bless Captain +Miller. We thank them for the officers they have +placed over us. We are happy and comfortable, and +willing to shed every drop of blood in our veins to +support them, and the name of the <i>Theseus</i> shall be +immortalised as high as that of the <i>Captain</i>.—Signed, +THE SHIP'S COMPANY." +</p> + +<p> +This poor little but heart-felt speech upon paper +must have cost much care and thought to concoct. +Meetings on the sly would have been held down below, +as secret and confidential as those of conspirators or +mutineers, and I can almost see the shy and somewhat +ungainly actions of the seaman, who was finally told off +to drop the precious document on the quarter-deck +after it had been read a dozen times and finally +approved. +</p> + +<p> +"See you does it properly now, Jack." +</p> + +<p> +"Don't let the officers see you, you know, Jack." +</p> + +<p> +"Don't make a bullocks of it, Jack." +</p> + +<p> +"Keep your weather eye lifting, Jack." +</p> + +<p> +These and a score of other warnings were doubtless +given to Jack before he departed on his mission, and +I'll warrant that, when he performed it successfully, he +was welcome to all the grog in the mess that day if he +chose to have it. +</p> + +<p> +Nelson and Miller too appreciated that simple note +for all it was worth, you may be perfectly sure. +</p> + +<p> +But possibly the letters from home affected him +quite as much as anything. His wife's was quite a +woman's letter. Nelson must have smiled to be told +that she was very much against the dangerous practice +of boarding, and that he must really promise not to +venture on any such thing again. +</p> + +<p> +But his father's, the dear, kindly, and now proud old +man—proud of his son—affected him most. "I thank +my God," he says, "with all the power of a grateful +soul, for the mercies he has most graciously bestowed +on me in preserving you. +</p> + +<p> +"Not only my few acquaintances here, but the people +in general met me at every corner with such handsome +words, that I was obliged to retire from the public eye. +The height of glory to which your professional +judgement, united with a proper degree of bravery, and +guarded by Providence, has raised you, few sons, my +dear child, attain to and fewer fathers live to see. +Tears of joy have involuntarily trickled down my +furrowed cheeks. Who could stand the force of such +general congratulations? The name and services of +Nelson have sounded throughout this city of Bath—from +the common ballad singer to the public theatre." +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * * * +</p> + +<p> +So much for honour and glory, reader. Do you like +it? Honour and glory are but empty baubles, and +yet somehow they commend themselves most heartily +to the empty soul. +</p> + +<p> +Honour and glory, however, are, in my opinion, not +such empty baubles as those who never receive them +would have you believe. On the contrary, they are the +most satisfactory proofs a hero could receive, that he +has nobly done his duty. They are the payments made +to him by a grateful public and people for services +done for which no amount of money or jewels could +ever form adequate reward. Whenever, therefore, you +hear a person railing against honour and glory, you +may be perfectly sure he has never had any such +"baubles" offered him, and never done anything to +deserve them. Think of the fable of the fox and the +grapes. +</p> + +<p> +Well, no star can shine by itself without imparting +its lustre to other and lesser stars around it. This is +another way of saying that even Nelson's junior officers +shared in his honour and glory. Ah! well, they +deserved to, for right nobly that day had every man +done his duty fore and aft. +</p> + +<p> +But in a great many cases that honour and glory +look the form of a sailor's grave. And alas! poor +Jack, many a man before the mast was buried in the +deep sea who had fought as well as ever man fought +a veritable lion with heart of oak, but whose name +would not even be mentioned in his country's story. +</p> + +<p> +As for the doctors? Well, the day had not yet +come when doctors were to have even the least little +morsel of honour and glory, and, to tell the truth, in +our own day very little glory falls to a surgeon's share. +Down in the gloomiest depths of a ship he must work—nay, +slave, even on the day of battle. If engines +burst he is among the first scalded; if the vessel is +blown up or is sunk, he has not even the shadow of a +chance of saving his life, as have the honour and glory +men on deck whose bravery may after all be but the +outcome of excitement or terror itself. The surgeon, +on the other hand, has to do his duty with a cool head, +and even long after the rage and roar of battle have +ceased his duties keep him to his post. +</p> + +<p> +But Nelson was a man who really loved his doctors, +both senior and junior, quite as much as he loved +the parson, and had every respect for their +feelings. Even when coming quietly round to see the +sick or wounded, he invariably took a surgeon with +him, to ask him questions about the poor fellows who +lay uncomplainingly in their hammocks. +</p> + +<p> +Young Raventree's letters from home rejoiced him +very much indeed, and he showed several of them to +his friend Tom Bure. +</p> + +<p> +Poor Tom had letters also; three—yes, only three, +but how he valued them only those who have been +long away on the ocean wave could say. +</p> + +<p> +One was from Dan—Daddy Dan. This he showed +to Raventree. "It is from my dear old foster-father," +he explained. +</p> + +<p> +Raventree read it by the light of the moon, as the +two lads stood together under the lee bulwarks. +</p> + +<p> +"It is so good of you, Bure," he said, "to show +me this. Bad spelling, worse writing, stilted and +somewhat hackneyed expressions, but, Tom, a spirit +of such kindliness and love, and so noble a nature +breathing through every page of it! Tom Bure, you +are lucky in having a foster-father like this man. Dan +Brundell is a hero in humble life!" +</p> + +<p> +"I'm so glad you like him," said Tom, and the tears +came rushing to his eyes as he spoke. +</p> + +<p> +"Some day I should like to go and see Dan's cottage," +continued Raventree. "My home is away in the +midlands. It is one of the ancestral halls of England, +and my people are proud and wealthy; but, Tom, they +would make you right welcome. I think," he added, +"I have some reason to be proud of my family, because, +like the Stuarts, of whom we saw so noble a specimen +in that brave Don Jacobo, we gained all our honours +by the sword." +</p> + +<p> +Tom had a letter from Ruth—such a dear, sisterly, +old-fashioned epistle. This he gave to Merryweather +to read, knowing it would not interest Raventree +much. +</p> + +<p> +Jack Merryweather, who was in excellent spirits +after the recent battle, because he, for a wonder, had +not been wounded, read Ruth's letter with delight—not +once, but twice. +</p> + +<p> +"What a sweet, good girl," he said, as he handed it +back to Tom. +</p> + +<p> +But there was one other letter that Tom, singularly +enough, showed to nobody. +</p> + +<p> +It came from Bertha. It was enclosed in Daddy +Dan's. Quite a charming specimen of love letter it +was, but so innocent and childish. She sent it through +Dan, she said, because she did not wish it supervised +by her mother and her maid. +</p> + +<p> +I hope the reader will not jump to the conclusion all +at once that this conduct on the part of Bertha was +naughty or clandestine. Her mother, she said, wanted +her to write to Tom Bure "all in fine english and all +well speld," and also to address him as "der Mr. Bure," +instead of "der old Tom" all through the letter. So +she had ran off to Daddy Dan's, where sweet freedom +awaited her, a huge sheet of age-stained paper, and an +enormous sputtering old quill pen. +</p> + +<p> +However, Bertha's letter, although not "well speld," +was very delightful, and for some reason or another, best +known to himself only, Tom Bure put it under his +pillow on the night of the day he received it. +</p> + +<p> +History is mute as to what his dreams were. +O'Grady's letters were so pleasing to him that he +handed them all round the gunroom mess—at least +he handed round the one he had received from his +mother, who lived "in a swate little cottage in the +kingdom of Connemara, and owned the foinest pigs in +the county, faith." +</p> + +<p> +O'Grady's mother was "a lady in a small way and +in her own roight," he explained to his messmates, +though what on earth he meant by that nobody could +tell, and as it was getting on for three bells, with a +drop of rosy rum on the table, no one thought of +asking him for an explanation. But Mrs. O'Grady could +write a good old-fashioned letter, there was no mistake +about that. No long sentences; all short and crisp. +No tall English; but every line containing an item of +news. There wasn't a person in the parish from the +priest downwards who missed mention in the lady's +letter, together with everyone who had been put in the +mould and every baby born, and it finished up with +what honest O'Grady called a red-hot shot, thus: +"And may the Lord's arms be ever around you, son, +and sure your old sweetheart Peggy O'Houghleehan +was married yesterday to Rory McKoy, and may +heaven have mercy on his sowl, for the jade was never +good enough for my dear boy, at all, at all. No more +from your affectionate old mother Molly O'Grady. +Postage paid, free." +</p> + +<p> +The red-hot shot, however, didn't affect this good old +middy much; for, it being Saturday night, the dead +all buried more than a fortnight ago, and the wounded +getting rapidly well, the boys were enjoying themselves +in an innocent, good-tempered way. So presently +O'Grady volunteered a song. +</p> + +<p> +Then somebody else sang, so that really, as Burns +puts it— +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "The nicht drave on wi' songs and clatter,*<br> +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +* Clatter=talk. +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +Away forward in the men's messes, Dibdin's verses +very well depict the scene, bar the lashing of the +helm a-lee. Nelson was hardly the man to have his +helm lashed a-lee. With all due respect for the +clever Dibdin, he did occasionally give his imagination +a very free run. +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "'Twas Saturday night: the twinkling stars<br> + Shone on the rippling sea,<br> + No duty called the jovial tars,<br> + The helm was lashed a-lee."<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +But even Saturday night at sea has an end at last, +and the bo's'n's pipe has a disagreeable knack of +bringing it to a close at times, far more suddenly than +honest sailors like. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap0209"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER IX. +<br><br> +BOMBARDING CADIZ—A MADCAP EXPEDITION. +</h3> + +<p> +Nelson was off Lagos Bay in the middle +of March of this year, '97. +</p> + +<p> +"I am here," he wrote to a friend, +"looking for the Viceroy of Mexico, with +three sail of the line, and hope to meet +him. Two first-rates and a 74 are with +him; but the bigger the ships the better the mark." +</p> + +<p> +Nelson, however, thought the Spanish ships were the +finest in the world; but he added: +</p> + +<p> +"Though they can build ships, thank Heaven the +Spaniards cannot build men." +</p> + +<p> +The Spanish ships were undoubtedly splendid and +vast, but they were badly fitted, badly found, badly +handled, and badly manned. +</p> + +<p> +Nor was it always an easy matter to manœuvre such +vast machines of war in a sea way. If battles upon +the ocean wave had been fought simply by the +antagonists drawing themselves up in two lines and +peppering away at each other till one gave in, was +blown up, or sunk, the Dons would have had it all their +own way—perhaps. But during an engagement of any +size the British fleet kept pretty much on the move, +delivering terrible broadsides on the foe when least +expected. +</p> + +<p> +The Dons didn't like it. +</p> + +<p> +On the 11th of April we find our hero blockading +Cadiz, but next day he started for Porto Ferrajo to +bring the troops from there. The blockade of Cadiz +was therefore entrusted to Sir James Saumarez. This +officer had already proved himself to be +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> +A HEART OF OAK. +</p> + +<p> +His story previous to the blockading of Cadiz is +briefly as follows: He was born in '57, and joined the +service when thirteen years old, and was first employed +in the Mediterranean. He soon became a lieutenant, +and sailed in the <i>Bristol</i>, off America, under Commodore +Sir Peter Parker. He took and destroyed many +privateersmen here. Under Lord Howe, he commanded +at Rhode Island a galley, which he burned to prevent +it falling into the hands of the enemy. Returning home +in the <i>Leviathan</i>, he, after some service in the Channel +fleet, sailed in the <i>Fortitude</i>, and went with Sir Hyde +Parker to the North Sea. Next we find him sailing +with a detachment of the Channel fleet, and being the +first to sight the squadron of Count de Guicheni, and +so well did he behave on this occasion that he was +soon after appointed captain of the <i>Russel</i>, 74 guns, +though then only twenty-four years of age. +</p> + +<p> +In 1793 we find Saumarez boldly fighting the French +frigate <i>Reunion</i>, off Cherbourg, for which he received +the honour of knighthood. +</p> + +<p> +He was next made captain of the <i>Orion</i>, and cruised +with the Channel fleet. +</p> + +<p> +And in the battle off St. Vincent it was this brave +fellow, who with his 74, the <i>Orion</i>, captured the +112-gun ship <i>Salvador del Mundo</i>, without the loss of a +man, having only nine wounded. +</p> + +<p> +I ought here to mention the losses on the British +side at the battle off St. Vincent. They were not +large for so spirited a fight, being but 73 killed and +297 wounded; but in proof that this engagement was +more Nelson's victory than anyone else's, it should be +remembered that his ship alone suffered a loss of 24 +killed and 56 wounded: the next in point of numbers +being the <i>Blenheim</i>, 12 killed and 49 wounded; +Collingwood's <i>Excellent</i>, 11 killed and 12 wounded; +and Troubridge's <i>Culloden</i>, 10 killed and 47 wounded. +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * * * +</p> + +<p> +Nelson returned from his cruise sooner than he +expected to do, and was appointed in the Cadiz blockade +to in-shore duties. +</p> + +<p> +"The fatigue, anxiety, and personal danger incurred +in this service," says Pettigrew, "were very great. To +confine the enemy as closely as possible to their port, +it was the custom every night to send from each of the +ships forming the blockade one or more boats, well +manned, armed, and supplied with a good store of +ammunition, into the very mouth of the harbour. +</p> + +<p> +"These boats were supported by gunboats, which had +been expressly fitted out for this occasion, and these +could only be protected by the inner line of ships which +Admiral Nelson had posted to render the blockade +complete, and the escape of any of the Spanish ships +nearly impossible." +</p> + +<p> +After the battle off St. Vincent the whole navy of +the Dons, it will be remembered, had taken refuge in +Cadiz to refit. +</p> + +<p> +"When the boats were all arranged Nelson was in +the habit of rowing through them for inspection. The +duty was therefore most active, and as far as possible +all danger of surprise from the enemy effectually +guarded against. +</p> + +<p> +"But the Dons were also well up in this mode of +precaution and warfare. They equipped numerous +gunboats and launches to check the too near approach +of our boats, and many a skirmish thus took place +between the Spaniards and our brave fellows." +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * * * +</p> + +<p> +On the night of July 3rd began the awful bombardment +of Cadiz. +</p> + +<p> +"I wish to make it a warm night at Cadiz," wrote +Nelson. "The town and their fleet are prepared, and +their gunboats are well advanced. So much the better. +If they venture out beyond their walls I shall give +Johnnie his full scope for fighting." +</p> + +<p> +Well, Nelson, in an attack by the Spanish gunboats, +had probably the narrowest escape of his life he ever +had. While in his barge with Captain Freemantle, his +coxswain, Sykes, and an ordinary crew of ten men, he +was laid aboard by a huge barge from a gunboat rowed +by six-and-twenty oars beside officers, all under the +command of a brave fellow—Captain Miguel Tyrason. +A tougher boat action was never fought by Britons +against such fearful odds. +</p> + +<p> +Our men, in fact, fought like lions. It was a +hand-to-hand battle with sword, cutlass, and knife. +Never before was the personal skill and prowess of +this little man Nelson seen to such advantage. Again +and again his sword drank blood, and foe after foe +fell before him. +</p> + +<p> +Twice too, during the engagement, his life was saved +by bold Sykes, who even interposed his own person +'twixt his admiral and the descending sword. The +fury of the combat may be best understood from a +statement of the results, for not only was the Don's +barge beaten, but eighteen were killed, and all the +others were wounded and taken prisoners. +</p> + +<p> +If there was a <i>Heart of Oak</i> in humble life on +board a ship it was John Sykes, the admiral's coxswain. +He was rewarded—after a fashion—by being made +a gunner, and consequently a warrant officer, and +appointed to the <i>Andromache</i>; but the poor fellow +was killed on his own deck by the bursting of a gun. +</p> + +<p class="t3"> + <i>Sic transit gloria mundi.</i><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +The bombardment of Cadiz was a grim and awful +affair. +</p> + +<p> +Not only were houses and public buildings laid low, +and even churches demolished, but the beautiful city +was set on fire in three different places, and, to add +to the horror of the situation, the roughs of the +populace had it all their own way, and murdered, +robbed, or plundered wherever they pleased. +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * * * +</p> + +<p> +I have told you, reader, very little about Josiah +Nisbet, the step-son of Nelson, for several reasons. +Though a very good fellow, he is not my <i>beau ideal</i> +of a hero; secondly, he was separated from Tom +Bure and Raventree, being made lieutenant of the +<i>Theseus</i>. But now he comes forward once more—or +presently will—in a new light, which shows that he +not only had a heart of oak, but had it stowed in +the right place. +</p> + +<p> +Nelson, then—though never fond of prize money +himself—had for some time been keeping himself +awake at night concocting a scheme for the financial +ruin of Spain and the aggrandisement of his own +beloved country. +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> +HEARTS OF OAK AT SANTA CRUZ. +</p> + +<p> +I am not at all sure, boys—now I come to think +of it—that Nelson was not in some way or other +distantly related to the Camerons of Lochiel. One +of these days I shall "speel" his genealogical tree +and have a look round, and if I can see a kilt hung +out to dry thereon, or a Highland bonnet and plumes, +I shall forthwith claim him as Scotch; then the +English bodies may look for a naval hero somewhere +else, or whistle their dogs to dance. But if he wasn't +a Cameron, he at all events acted on the motto of the +Camerons—"Whate'er a man dares he can do." +</p> + +<p> +Mind you, reader, that this is a very excellent +motto, for "nothing venture nothing win," and the +higher one's aim the higher the mark he hits—if +he hits anything. +</p> + +<p> +However, the Cameronian Highlanders' motto does +sometimes lead one into difficulty. +</p> + +<p> +It was very shortly, then, after the bombardment +of Cadiz that Nelson wrote to Sir John Jervis—or +let us now call him the Earl of St. Vincent—proposing +his little scheme for the capture of Santa Cruz. +</p> + +<p> +Santa Cruz was a place of not the slightest importance, +but it was rumoured that a Spanish ship—<i>El +Principe de Asturias</i>—more richly stored with gold +and precious stones than a fairy mine, had arrived at +that port from Manilla, and Nelson's idea was to cut +her out—in other words, to capture her. This would +not only put millions of money into British coffers +to carry on the war withal, but tend considerably to +the downfall of Spain by helping to impoverish her. +</p> + +<p> +In fact, and in plain English, Nelson intended for +a time to masquerade and swagger as a pirate bold +or a buccanier. So on the 12th of April we find +him writing as follows to his admiral of the fleet: +</p> + +<p> +"My Dear Sir,—Troubridge and I were talking last +night about the Viceroy (of Mexico) at Teneriffe. +Since I first believed he might have gone there I have +endeavoured to make myself master of the situation, +and the means of approach by sea and land. I shall +speak first of the sea. +</p> + +<p> +"The Spanish ships then generally moor with two +cables to the sea, and four cables from their stern to +the shore; therefore, though we might not get to be +masters of them, should the wind not come off the shore, +it does not appear certain we should succeed so +completely as we might wish. As to any opposition, except +from natural impediments, I should not think it would +avail. +</p> + +<p> +"The approach by sea to the anchoring-place is under +very high land, therefore the wind is either in from the +sea, or squally with calms from the mountains. +Sometimes at night a ship may get in with the land wind +and moderate weather. So much for the sea attack, +which, if you approve, I am ready and willing to risk, +or to carry into execution. +</p> + +<p> +"But now comes my plan, which would not fail of +success, would immortalize the undertakers,* ruin +Spain, and has every prospect of raising our country to +a higher pitch of wealth than she has ever yet attained; +but here soldiers must be consulted, and I know from +experience that, excepting General O'Hara, they have +not the same boldness in undertaking a political +measure that we (sailors) have. We look to the +benefit of our country, and risk our fame every day to +serve her. A soldier obeys orders and nothing more. +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="footnote"> +* By "undertakers" Nelson doesn't refer to the manufacturers of +cheap coffins, but those who undertake to carry out his plan of +operations. +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +"By saying soldiers should be consulted, you will +guess I mean the army of 3,200 men from Elba, with +cannon, mortars, and every implement now embarked. +They could do the business in three days, probably +much less. I will undertake with a very small +squadron to do the naval part. +</p> + +<p> +"The shore, though not very easy of access, is yet so +steep that the transports may run in and land the +army in one day. The water is conveyed to the town +in wooden troughs. This supply cut off would induce +a very speedy surrender. Good terms for the town, +private property secured to the islanders, and only the +delivery of public stores and foreign merchandise +demanded, with threats of utter destruction if one +gun is fired. +</p> + +<p> +"In fact, sir, the business could not miscarry. +</p> + +<p> +"If," the letter goes on to say, "the six or seven +millions sterling thus secured were thrown into +circulation in England, what might not be done? It +would ensure an honourable peace, with many other +blessings." +</p> + +<p> +Such was Admiral Nelson's letter to St. Vincent, or +the gist of it at least. +</p> + +<p> +Now had the hero been better supported by soldiers +than he was the result might have been a triumph. +</p> + +<p> +The attack, however, was to be a purely naval one. +Nelson sailed for Teneriffe on the fifteenth of July, +and the passage not being a very long one, got over in +under a week. At all events, the fleet which he +commanded was discovered on the 21st of July. +</p> + +<p> +This was a bad beginning, and augured nothing but +evil fortune to follow. +</p> + +<p> +Probably Nelson had but little idea of the kind of +place he had made up his mind to take by storm, for +it is fortified by nature. Writing about this unhappy +expedition Brenton makes the following remarks: +</p> + +<p> +"Of all the places that ever came under our inspection, +none we conceive is more invulnerable to attack +or more easily defended than Teneriffe. The island, +like most of its neighbours, is a volcanic production, +consisting of mountains, ravines, rocks, and precipices. +The bay of Santa Cruz affords no shelter for shipping; +the shore is nearly a straight line, and the bank so +steep that no anchorage can be found beyond the +distance of half a mile, and that in forty-five +fathoms of water; the beach from north to south is +one continued series of broken masses of loose rock +and round, smooth stones, smooth either from friction +or from the seaweed. On this a perpetual surf breaks, +rendering the landing at all times difficult, except at +the mole or pier of Santa Cruz. To these obstacles +there is another which Nelson experienced in its +fullest force. Teneriffe, like all other mountainous +countries, is liable to calms, sudden squalls, and violent +gusts of wind, which, rushing down the ravines, +frequently take a ship's topmasts over the side without +a moment's warning. +</p> + +<p> +The fleet, or rather squadron, appointed for the +expedition was as follows: +</p> + +<pre> + SHIPS. GUNS. + + 1 Theseus . . . . . 74 + 2 Culloden . . . . . 74 + 3 Zealous . . . . . 74 + 4 Leander . . . . . 50 + 5 Seahorse . . . . . 38 + 6 Emerald . . . . . 36 + 7 Terpsichore . . . 32 + 8 Fox (cutter) . . . 12 +</pre> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +There were many Hearts of Oak among the +commanders of these ships as well as daring Nelson, +notably Troubridge, Hood, Freemantle, &c. Indeed, +to one and all the honour of their country was as +dear as life itself. +</p> + +<p> +In the next chapter I have to tell of +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> +A DARK NIGHT'S WORK. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap0210"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER X. +<br><br> +A DARK NIGHT'S WORK. +</h3> + +<p> +It was not until the 24th of July that +the <i>finale</i> to this madcap expedition was +attempted; viz., the landing and the +facing of those fearful odds. +</p> + +<p> +If Nelson had had but men to contend +against, it would have been very +different, but in their undertaking it was the forces +of Nature he had to struggle against. There is no +doubt about his daring, however. Nor did he +underrate the difficulties he had to encounter. +</p> + +<p> +It was with a feeling of sadness even that he sat +down to write his letter to St. Vincent—the last he +was ever to pen with his right hand. +</p> + +<p> +"This night," he says, "humble as I am, I command +the whole. I am destined to land under the batteries +of the town, and to-morrow my head will probably be +crowned with either laurel or cypress." +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * +</p> + +<p> +The first plan of attack on Santa Cruz, which, as I +have already stated, was spoiled by the discovery of +the squadron, was this: The boats were to land at +night, between the town and the fort on its north-east +side, capture that fort, and afterwards demand from +the governor that the town be given up. +</p> + +<p> +But about midnight the three frigates, with the +landing party on board, had got within three miles of +the shore, when it came on to blow so hard that the +forces were still a mile from the shore when day +dawned, and they were seen. A consultation or +council of war had then been held, and it was +determined to land at all hazards, with the object +of securing the heights. While the landing forces +were so engaged, Nelson was to batter the fort for the +purpose of distracting the attention of the garrison. +</p> + +<p> +However, as bad luck would have it, a calm had +followed the storm, and owing to this and the contrary +current the admiral was unable to get near enough +to rain his iron shower upon the fort. Meanwhile +the heights were occupied and held by a force so +great that it was deemed impossible to take them, +and now we come to +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> +THE DARK NIGHT'S WORK. +</p> + +<p> +Well knowing how desperate the attack on Santa +Cruz would in all probability prove, and how valuable +were the services of our hero to his country, the +admiral of the fleet, St. Vincent, had given orders +that Nelson was not to land unless "his presence was +absolutely necessary." +</p> + +<p> +Nelson, with his usual headstrong tendencies, interpreted +this to mean that he should do just as he chose. +</p> + +<p> +So to-night he determined in his own person to lead +the storming party. +</p> + +<p> +The last thing that Nelson did was to send for his +stepson, Josiah, into his cabin. +</p> + +<p> +Josiah—Lieutenant Nisbet—was soon there. +</p> + +<p> +"Why, lad, you are armed," said Nelson. "I sent +for you to help me to burn your dear mother's letters." +</p> + +<p> +"Is the affair then likely to be of so dangerous a +nature, father?" said Josiah. +</p> + +<p> +"It is, my boy. I have written to St. Vincent, and +in that letter I recommended you to him and to our +country. The Duke of Clarence, should I fall, will, I +am convinced, take a lively interest in my stepson on +his name being mentioned." +</p> + +<p> +"But <i>I</i> am going too, father," said Nisbet, smiling +but calm. +</p> + +<p> +"Let me entreat of you, Josiah, to stay behind." +</p> + +<p> +"No, no, dear sir." +</p> + +<p> +"But, Josiah, I comm——" +</p> + +<p> +"Hold, father, hold! Pray do not command me." +</p> + +<p> +"I <i>beg</i> then. Think, Josiah, if we both fall, what +would become of your poor mother? Besides, the care +of the <i>Theseus</i> falls to you; stay, therefore, and take +charge of the ship." +</p> + +<p> +"Sir," said the young man respectfully, but with +determination, "the ship may look after herself. I +will go with you to-night if I never go again." +</p> + +<p> +On board the <i>Seahorse</i> frigate the captains all met +that night to dine with the admiral. Captain Fremantle, +the commander of the vessel, had been lately married +in the Mediterranean, and, his wife being on board, +presided at the table. There was no lack of conversation +at this little dinner party, no lack of liveliness +even, though an acute observer might have noticed +that now and then, on Nelson's part, it was almost +forced. Hardly anyone touched the wine in the way +it was usually touched, tasted, and handled in those +old bacchanalian days, and at eleven o'clock the boats +were called away, and all ready. +</p> + +<p> +The night was very dark indeed, hardly a star +shining, and closer in shore, where the rugged mountains +frowned over the ocean, it was darker still. +</p> + +<p> +There were, however, the glimmering lights of the +town to guide them, and the black shapes of the great +hills themselves. +</p> + +<p> +All the boats that could be spared from the ships of +war took part in this invasion, carrying altogether +nearly one thousand bluejackets and marines. +</p> + +<p> +It is almost half-past one now, and the invaders are +rapidly nearing the shore. They can hear the thunder +of the breakers that dash and foam on the stones and +boulders, each receding wave adding to the dreary +sound by sucking back with it the smaller stones. +They are not far from the mole. +</p> + +<p> +"I can see it, sir, I can see it!" exclaims Tom Bure, +who is in Nelson's own boat, but forward in the +bows. +</p> + +<p> +The lad was right. Keen eyes can now descry the +mole or pier, and a true British cheer rises from a +thousand throats, and onwards dash the boats. But +scarcely is the cheer echoed back from rock and hill +ere bells are rung on shore, and a wild huzza tells the +invaders that the Spaniards are prepared to give them +a warm welcome. +</p> + +<p> +And now the misfortunes begin; for most of the +boats have missed the mole, and are stove among +the boulders. However, Nelson, Fremantle, Bower, +with five other boats, have found it; but how can +they storm it against twice two hundred armed men? +</p> + +<p> +<i>Whate'er a man dares he can do!</i> +</p> + +<p> +Another shout, another huzza; the fight has +commenced, and the Spaniards, beaten off the mole, take +refuge in flight. But such a fire of guns as now +lights up the darkness of this terrible night few +have ever faced and lived. Musketry and grape from +the citadel and from every window near. +</p> + +<p> +Against this iron hail advance is impossible. +</p> + +<p> +Our brave fellows attempt it over and over again, +but fall dead or wounded on the pier. +</p> + +<p> +<a id="p244"></a> +And Nelson himself, just as he is about to step +on shore, sword in hand, is struck by a grape shot +in the right elbow, and falls bleeding into the boat. +</p> + +<p> +Nisbet, his step-son—surely it was Providence who +sent him hither to-night—is by his side in a moment. +His first thought is that Nelson is killed. +</p> + +<p> +The hero, however, gathers himself up, and shows +that he has not lost presence of mind, for he clutches +his sword with his left hand. That precious sword +had been given him by Captain Suckling, and he +will not part with it while life doth last. +</p> + +<p> +Assisted by Tom Bure, whom even in his agony +Nelson recognises, Nisbet lays the wounded hero in +the bottom of the boat, and a hurried examination +is made of the wound. With Tom's and Josiah's +silk handkerchiefs a bandage is formed, the knot +placed over the artery higher up the arm, and by +means of this ready-made tourniquet the bleeding +is stopped. A sailor of the name of Lovel tears his +own shirt from his back, and forms a sling to support +the wounded arm of his beloved admiral. Josiah +seizes an oar. +</p> + +<p> +"Shove off, lads," he cries; "let us get closer under +the battery, and thus out of its fire." +</p> + +<p> +With the help of Tom, and at his own request, +Nelson is raised up in the boat. But nothing can +he perceive except the surf lit up every moment +by the awful flash of the guns, the heaving sea, and +the distant cutter <i>Fox</i>. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly, high above the din of the contending +foes, rises a wild shriek of dying agony from the +crew of that very cutter, and before his eyes, by +the fitful light of the blazing cannon, Nelson can +perceive that she is struck—that she staggers, fills, +and goes bodily down. +</p> + +<p> +"Give way, my lads; now for the cutter," cries +Nelson, the moment the shriek is heard. "Give way +with a will!" +</p> + +<p> +And on towards the drowning seamen rushes the +boat. There is no thought of self with the hero at +this moment. All his kindliness of heart, all his +indomitable British courage, rise to the surface—pain +and danger are forgotten quite. Who is there +in all the wide world, friend or foe, who cannot admire +and love a man like this? +</p> + +<p> +Of all the 180 men the cutter had been bearing +toward the shore only 83 are saved, and many of these +were hauled into Nelson's own boat. Some are even +caught by Nelson's unwounded arm. +</p> + +<p> +Tom Bure does all he can, and helps many aboard; +and seeing how energetically the lad worked—for he is +now astern, and had been helping to support the +admiral—Nelson finds opportunity to whisper these +encouraging words: "Well done, my Norfolk lad; +I will not forget you!" +</p> + +<p> +All being done that can be done, no more heads +above the water to clutch at or save, the boat is +speedily rowed seawards beyond the reach of danger. +</p> + +<p> +A ship now looms above them. +</p> + +<p> +"What is she? What is she?" cries Nelson feebly, +and even impatiently, for the loss of blood is telling on +his nervous system. +</p> + +<p> +"The <i>Seahorse</i>, sir," cried Tom Bure. +</p> + +<p> +"Go on. Go on, Josiah, to the <i>Theseus</i>." +</p> + +<p> +"She is farther away!" entreats his step-son. +"Think, sir; your very life may be lost by our going +on." +</p> + +<p> +"Shove off, men, for the <i>Theseus</i>!" cries the hero +himself. "Think you," he adds, as the men obey, +"that I would present myself before Mrs. Fremantle +in this pickle, and bringing her no news of her +husband? I'd sooner suffer death." +</p> + +<p> +The <i>Theseus</i> is made at last. +</p> + +<p> +Nelson will not allow himself to be carried on board. +"I have still my left arm remaining," he exclaims, +"and my legs as well." +</p> + +<p> +"And now," he cries, when he reaches the deck, +"tell the surgeon to get his instruments out. I know +I must lose my right arm, and the sooner it is off the +better." +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * * +</p> + +<p> +We must get back on shore now to see how it +fared with the other poor fellows. +</p> + +<p> +Like Admiral Nelson himself, Captain Fremantle +was badly wounded in the right arm, but escaped to +his ship, very much to the relief of his agonised wife, +who was not long in finding out that all was lost. +</p> + +<p> +Captain Bowen was among the slain, and this +was a very great grief to Nelson, who loved him well. +Another officer killed was Lieutenant Weatherhead, +a man whom the hero also had much respect for +and who, like our Merryweather, preferred being with +Nelson even to taking a higher grade in another ship. +</p> + +<p> +But Troubridge, the captain of the <i>Culloden</i>, and +Weller, who commanded the <i>Emerald</i>, were among +those who managed to secure a footing on shore with +the crews of several other boats. +</p> + +<p> +The boats themselves were instantly swamped, and +dashed to pieces among the heavy boulders. +</p> + +<p> +Their scaling-ladders were lost, but, although few in +number, the cry was "Forward!" +</p> + +<p> +The gallant little party dashed onwards to the great +square of the town, expecting here to join Nelson, +and those who had stormed the mole. Alas! they +were, as we know, all scattered, dead, or lying wounded +and exposed, on the blood-slippery pier. +</p> + +<p> +Had Troubridge succeeded in saving the ladders, +he would undoubtedly have scaled the citadel walls +and silenced the guns. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile, Captains Hood and Miller had secured a +landing on the other side of the pier, and the two +forlorn parties met, or, in other words, effected a +junction. Previously to this a sergeant, with two +of the towns' people, were sent to the citadel to +summon it to surrender. He never came back. +</p> + +<p> +These brave captains at daybreak reviewed their +forces, and a bold little array they made, consisting +of about 160 marines and pikemen, with 180 +well-armed bluejackets. +</p> + +<p> +They increased the amount of ammunition they were +possessed of, by requisitioning that of a number of +prisoners they had taken. +</p> + +<p> +Wet and miserable, but with hope still aflame in +those hearts of oak of theirs, they commenced to march +on now towards the citadel. There was just a +possibility, they thought, that it might be taken without +scaling-ladders. +</p> + +<p> +But lo! thousands of armed Spaniards were already +seen advancing towards them, with hundreds of their +allies the French, while every street was defended +by one or more guns. +</p> + +<p> +Troubridge, however, proved himself the hero of the +hour. He instantly formed his plans, and bold they +were in the extreme. One cannot help even smiling +at the audacity—call it "cheek" if you please, +reader—of this handful of British tars. +</p> + +<p> +Troubridge then despatched Captain Samuel Hood +with a flag of truce, towards the advancing enemy. +His message was to the governor of the town, and was +to the following effect: +</p> + +<p> +"If," said Hood, "the Spaniards come but an inch +nearer to the British, their commander, Troubridge, +will immediately set fire to the town, which he is fully +prepared to do. If he has to do so, it will be with the +deepest regret, because he has not the slightest wish to +injure any of the inhabitants. +</p> + +<p> +"He is therefore prepared to treat on the following +terms: Provided the British forces be allowed to +re-embark, taking with them all their arms of every +kind, and in their own boats, if saved; if not, in boats +lent us by the town—Troubridge, in the name of +Admiral Nelson, agrees not to molest the town, nor +shall the squadron bombard it. The prisoners to be +delivered up on both sides." +</p> + +<p> +The commander smiled as he made reply. +</p> + +<p> +"We think that instead of laying down the law to +as, you should lay down your arms and consider +yourselves prisoners of war." +</p> + +<p> +"That," said Hood, "we never shall do." +</p> + +<p> +"And suppose I refuse to treat, sir?" +</p> + +<p> +"Then the destruction of the town and the utter +annihilation of all your troops lies on your head. I +give you five minutes to consider. If in that time +your answer is not favourable, Troubridge will instantly +proceed to fire the town and attack your soldiers at +the point of the bayonet, and Nelson will bombard +you from the sea." +</p> + +<p> +"I do not think," said the governor, smiling once +again, "that you would find yourselves very successful; +but your Commander Troubridge is a gallant sailor, +I shall therefore accede to your request." +</p> + +<p> +This officer's name will be handed down to posterity +as that of a brave and generous gentleman—a gentle +maa—Don Juan Antonio Gutiarraz. +</p> + +<p> +Ah! boys, those were the days of chivalry and +romance, for the treaty being ratified, nothing could +exceed the kindness of the governor and his men to +our wet, shivering, and hungry troops. One hundred +men were removed to hospital and carefully tended by +the Spanish surgeons, a young man, Don Bernardo +Collagen, even tearing his own shirt in pieces to make +temporary bandages for wounded men who lay on the +mole. The governor, in sending back our fellows to +their ships, sent word at the same time, that while our +squadron lay outside any of our people might land and +purchase whatever they cared to eat or to drink. +</p> + +<p> +Nelson, ill as he was, dictated a letter of thanks to +this brave and kindly fellow, and sent them with +presents. He also offered to carry the governor's +letters and despatches to the Spanish government. +This offer was accepted. +</p> + +<p> +There is no doubt about one thing, however. +Troubridge was in earnest when he threatened to fire +the town and charge with the bayonet. +</p> + +<p> +So the madcap expedition was at an end. +</p> + +<p> +But how sadly it had ended; for in killed and +wounded our loss was somewhat over 250 men. +</p> + +<p> +Nelson's letters to the admiral of the fleet after +his defeat were sorrowful in the extreme. But their +tenour was no doubt influenced by the miserableness +of his bodily condition and his sufferings, for +owing to the bungling way the operation had been +performed both the chief artery and the chief nerve +were included together in the ligature, and the pain +was in consequence of a most agonising character. +</p> + +<p> +Here are one or two extracts from his letters to +St. Vincent: +</p> + +<p> +"I am now become a burden to my friends, and +useless to my country; but by my last letter to you, +you will perceive my anxiety for the promotion of my +step-son Josiah Nisbet. When I leave your command +I myself become dead to the world. I go hence and am +no more seen. If from poor Bowen's loss you think it +proper to oblige me I rest confident you will do it. +The boy is under obligations to me, but he has repaid +me by bringing me from the mole at Santa Cruz. I +hope you will be able to give me a frigate to convey +the remains of my carcass to England." +</p> + +<p> +"The sooner," he says in another despatch, "I get +away to a humble cottage the better. I shall thus +make room for a sounder man to serve the state, +for a left-handed admiral can scarcely be considered +useful." +</p> + +<p> +His step-son was promoted immediately, as he +deserved to be. +</p> + +<p> +Great though the admiral's sufferings were, he did +not even forget our Tom Bure, who since the attack on +Santa Cruz had been prostrated with illness. Probably +his being promoted to a lieutenancy by Nelson himself +went a far way towards restoring his health. Tom +returned home in the same ship with Nelson. +</p> + +<p> +Merryweather was wounded in a boat action soon +after, and by his side fell Raventree, who was taken on +board his ship and stretched for dead. +</p> + +<p> +O'Grady, however, hadn't a deal of faith in a doctor's +opinion, so he went soon after to the lee side of the +gun, where the poor young officer lay covered up by +the flag under which he had served so gallantly. +</p> + +<p> +His wounds were bleeding afresh. His eyes were +open, and he could talk. +</p> + +<p> +O'Grady rushed pell-mell to the Irish surgeon's +mate. +</p> + +<p> +"Come here, you omadhaun," he shouted, "follow me, +ye spalpeen av the world, to go and stretch a poor +bhoy for dead that was never dead at all. Yes, sare, +it's Raventree I mane." +</p> + +<p> +"Not dead?" +</p> + +<p> +"Och, no! The bhoy tells me so himself. He is a +gentleman that wouldn't tell a lie for the loife av him. +Come to him at onct, or I'll carry you." +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * +</p> + +<p> +All the way home to England poor Nelson suffered +agonies with his arm. He was afterwards most carefully +nursed, however, by his wife, and the pain departed in +a single night with the coming away of the ligature, +which the bungling hands of that wretched surgeon +had placed around the nerve. +</p> + +<p> +Honours were heaped upon him. +</p> + +<p> +Britain seldom forgets a true hero. +</p> + +<p> +Nelson was happy now. He seems at this time to +have had little wish to serve again. +</p> + +<p> +There was true religious feeling ever dwelling around +the heart of Nelson, and he did not forget to return +thanks publicly, through the officiating clergyman, at +St. George's Church, Hanover Square. There was the +usual modesty about this, however, that marked all +Nelson's actions, for from the pulpit his name was not +even mentioned. +</p> + +<p> +The following are the words of this thanksgiving, +precisely as they were dictated by the hero, and +precisely as they were delivered by the clergyman: +</p> + +<p> +"An officer desires to return thanks to Almighty +God for his perfect recovery from a severe wound, and +also for the many mercies bestowed upon him." +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap0211"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER XI. +<br><br> +A HAPPY HOME-COMING. +</h3> + +<p> +Four long years! yes, they did seem very +long to Tom Bure, as he shipped on board +a trading schooner that was to bear him +over the sunlight sea, in bright September +weather, to his home in Norfolk. +</p> + +<p> +Four years! Why to look back +appeared an eternity, so filled were they with wild +adventures, with battles and sieges, and storms by sea +and on land. We can only judge of distance on the +ocean when ships, rocks, or islands are visible, and so +can only judge of distance on the ocean of time by +the events that stand out here and there, and seem to +stud its surface. +</p> + +<p> +"Four years!" he said to himself as he gazed over +the taffrail at the rippling water, that went gurgling +past the vessel's side as she headed north and away +from the mouth of the Thames. "Four years! Why +I was but a boy when I went to sea. Now I am a +man, seventeen in a few months, and no mite at that. +And a lieutenant! I wonder what Bertha will say. I +do believe I used to make love to the child. Well, she +is but a child yet, not more than twelve. But—— I +wonder what she looks like. She'll hardly remember +me. I do believe I've got her letter still." +</p> + +<p> +"Beautiful day, isn't it?" said the skipper, who had +now got his ship into a safe position. "Lovely weather +I calls it for the season of the year. Just returned +from the wars, haven't you?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," said Tom, smiling. +</p> + +<p> +"And haven't lost ne'er an arm nor a leg. Sad thing +about poor Nelson, sir; but, lor' bless ye, he's a hero +every inch! There isn't a man in Yarmouth that +wouldn't die for him. Mind you, sir, Yarmouth's +precious proud of him." +</p> + +<p> +"As Yarmouth well may be, Mr. Auld." +</p> + +<p> +"You've been to Norfolk afore, sir?" +</p> + +<p> +"Why, I may say I belong there. My father died a +poor man. His sword and his honour were about +all he could call his own, but he belonged to a good +family, I believe—the Bures." +</p> + +<p> +"Bless my soul and old hull of a body!" cried +the skipper. "You don't mean to say you're Tom +Brundell, or Bure, that lived as a nipper wi' old +Dan, and that we now hears so much talk about?" +</p> + +<p> +"I'm all that stands for that youth," said Tom. +</p> + +<p> +"Who would have thought it? Such a strapping, +handsome fellow too. Why, tip us your nipper, my +boy. Taking home Tom Bure am I? Why this is +the happiest day in my life." +</p> + +<p> +Tom shook hands right merrily, and the conversation +continued. +</p> + +<p> +There wasn't a man or woman apparently all over +the north and east of Norfolk that Mr. Auld did not +know the history of; and every question Tom asked +was answered in a moment, and right heartily too. +</p> + +<p> +He was unfeignedly glad to hear that Daddy Dan +was well, and Ruth and his foster-mother. That the +Ashleys were still afloat in the <i>Fairy</i>, and that "there +wasn't a bit of difference in Yarmouth or in anybody +or any place anywhere." These were Skipper Auld's +own words. +</p> + +<p> +"It seems to me," said Tom, "that all the change +is in me alone." +</p> + +<p> +"Ah! you're growing, young sir; but I daresay if +one could see into your heart it isn't a deal of difference +he'd see in that after all." +</p> + +<p> +"Not a bit!" cried Tom. "That is in the right +place, and I'll never forget dear Norfolk as long as my +head is left above water." +</p> + +<p> +"Bravo! Spoken like one o' Nelson's own!" +</p> + +<p> +And at this point of the conversation Mr. Auld was +constrained to spit in his palm and shake hands +with Tom Bure once again. +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * * +</p> + +<p> +Yarmouth at last! Not a bit of difference in the +long, muddy river, nor in the quay alongside, nor +in the shipping alongside. +</p> + +<p> +Tom felt once more that the change was all in +himself, but he was glad enough to get on shore +nevertheless, for he meant to hire a trap, it being early +morning, and drive straight away down to Daddy +Dan's property, and give all hands a pleasant +surprise. +</p> + +<p> +He bade Mr. Auld good-bye, hoping they should +meet again. +</p> + +<p> +About half way up towards the spot where the +town hall now stands he came abreast of a clean, taut, +and trim-looking schooner. He started and stopped. +</p> + +<p> +"I should know her," he thought. "Why, yes, I +declare it's my first ship—the saucy <i>Yarmouth Belle</i>. +</p> + +<p> +"Ship ahoy!" he shouted, in a voice so stentorian +that a score of sailors and fishermen on the quay +turned quickly round to look. +</p> + +<p> +"Hullo!" cried a voice from on board; and up from +the companion hatch popped the rough and warty old +figure-head of Skipper Hughes himself. +</p> + +<p> +Tom Bure went rushing over the gangway, stuck out +his fist, seized the skipper's, and literally gaffed him on +deck as if he'd been a forty-pound salmon. +</p> + +<p> +Hughes didn't know Tom at first, but when he did +he could hardly utter a word with excitement. +</p> + +<p> +"Mate! mate!" he cried at last, "come up at +once." +</p> + +<p> +The mate—same old phizog—came up as quickly +as if the ship had caught fire, and when about a +hundred questions had been asked and answered to the +satisfaction of all, "Mate," said Skipper Hughes, "on +this auspicious occasion let us——" +</p> + +<p> +"Hurrah!" cried the mate. +</p> + +<p> +"Let us," continued the skipper most impressively—"let +us——splice the main-brace." +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * * +</p> + +<p> +There was a rat at the foot of that poplar tree +without the slightest doubt. +</p> + +<p> +Meg, Uncle Bob's collie, knew that. She had +known it for a very long time. Indeed, the rat made +little or no secret of the matter himself, for there was +the door to his sub-arboreal residence close beneath the +exposed portion of a root that Meg had often clawed +and clawed at in vain. This was only the rascal's front +door, however; he had several back doors, and he had +an underground tunnel also, that led all the way to the +old mare's stable. +</p> + +<p> +That rat was a married rat too, and to Meg's certain +knowledge had brought up a large family in there this +last summer. +</p> + +<p> +Meg was standing with her head turned a little on +one side on this bright autumnal forenoon, and fancying +she could almost see the rat grinning at her from +the depths of his long, dark passage. She couldn't be +sure though, for her eyes had grown more dim of late +for some reason or another, which she didn't understand. +</p> + +<p> +Her hearing was not so good as it used to be either. +That was very curious! +</p> + +<p> +"Meg, Meg, old girl!" +</p> + +<p> +Her ears were in the habit of playing her strange +tricks at times too. +</p> + +<p> +"Meg!" For example, if she didn't know that +Tom Bure had disappeared from off the earth ages +and ages ago, just as her poor dear master had, she +would fancy she heard his voice even now calling to +her. +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Meg</i>, you silly old girl!" +</p> + +<p> +She turned her head at last. +</p> + +<p> +Fancy? No, no, it was not fancy. Here was Tom +himself, grown up from his puppyhood, as she had +known all along he would, but Tom all the same—the +eyes of Tom, the scent of Tom, the voice of Tom. +She went for him straight with a rush and a run, and +jumped upon his breast with a cry of joy that was +half hysterical, and for all the world as if tears +were choking her. +</p> + +<p> +Then she must have a caper round and round the +grassy lawn, where poor Bob used to lie so patiently +in his cot. +</p> + +<p> +Round and round. +</p> + +<p> +Round and round. +</p> + +<p> +Oh, if she had not capered and danced just then +the excitement of her feelings might have given her +a fit! +</p> + +<p> +One more daft caper. +</p> + +<p> +One more hysterical joy-bark. Then off over the +bridge she flies, and in two minutes more comes back +with Ruth. +</p> + +<p> +Ruth had been making a cake, but those bare, +plump, mealy arms of hers are thrown round her +foster-brother's neck all the same, and she hugs him +to her heart. +</p> + +<p> +And——why the poor lassie is crying! +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * * +</p> + +<p> +Altogether, this was indeed a happy home coming. +</p> + +<p> +Neither Daddy Dan nor his wife were a bit changed. +The garden was the same, the porch around the door +and the roses and flowers, and even the jasmine that +clung about Uncle Bob's wing. +</p> + +<p> +Nothing altered. +</p> + +<p> +Bob's bed yonder too, in Bob's own end of the +house. +</p> + +<p> +Aye, and the hooded crow's nest up in the poplar +tree. +</p> + +<p> +"And on fine days in summer," said Mrs. Brundell +that evening as they all sat round the blazing hearth, +with Meg, the collie, leaning her chin on Tom's knee, +"on fine days in summer your Daddy will wheel out +poor Bob's cot to its old place near to the shed where +he works, though I tell him it is foolish." +</p> + +<p> +Daddy Dan took his pipe from his lips and gazed +upwards at the curling smoke with a strange moisture +in his eye. +</p> + +<p> +"Poor Bob," he said, "I like even yet to think the +dear lad's near me." +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap0301"></a></p> + +<h2> +Book III +</h2> + +<p><br></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER I. +<br><br> +A GIPSY'S WARNING. +</h3> + +<p> +Wonders will never cease. +</p> + +<p> +Tom Bure had found something at +last that had changed during the time +he had been at the wars. +</p> + +<p> +That something was the dainty little +person of Bertha Colmore. +</p> + +<p> +She was not at the Hall when Tom first came to +Daddy Dan's cottage, but in two week's time both she and +her mother arrived. Tom had permitted one long day +and night to elapse before he paid a visit. He did not +like to appear too precipitate. Then, with Meg in the +bows of the boat, just as in the dear days of yore, he +went paddling away along the beautiful broads, and finally +stood on the green mossy bank not far from the Hall. +</p> + +<p> +Lady Colmore was delighted to see him. +</p> + +<p> +So was lovely Bertha. Yes; she was a very lovely, +though very young, girl; pretty enough to be a queen, +Tom thought. +</p> + +<p> +Bertha said she was delighted to see Tom. That is +how Tom knew she was. +</p> + +<p> +He wouldn't have known else. +</p> + +<p> +She approached him, not with a glad rush, as of old; +she gave him no kiss, but only a little gloved hand. +She had just come in from a walk, and she said: +</p> + +<p> +"How are you, Lieutenant Bure? Mamma and I +have been so pleased to hear about you always, and +from you also, and we are delighted to see you." +</p> + +<p> +Tom was asked to stay for dinner. He needed little +persuasion. +</p> + +<p> +After that meal, as they were passing along through +the hall, Lady Colmore stopped Tom near to a picture. +It was the portrait of a soldier of a bygone time. +</p> + +<p> +"Strange," she said, "but, my dear Mr. Bure, you +get more like that picture every day; and, now I come +to think of it, he was a Bure, or some such name. He +is my son's great-grandfather by the father's side." She +laughed as she added, "It is just possible, you +know, that you are some distant relation of ours." +</p> + +<p> +Tom found himself in the conservatory with Bertha +some time after this. +</p> + +<p> +"It is cooler here, Lieutenant Bure," she said. +</p> + +<p> +Then Tom found his tongue, and to some purpose too. +</p> + +<p> +"Look here, Bertha," he said. "I'm not going to +stand any more lieutenanting. So there! If I can't +be Tom to you, as I used to be, I'll join the first ship +I can get, and go off to the wars and get shot." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, Tom!" +</p> + +<p> +"There! It's out at last. I'm always going to be +Tom to you and nothing else." +</p> + +<p> +And thereupon, in good old sailor fashion, he took +his little sweetheart in his arms, and gave her a kiss. +</p> + +<p> +The ice was broken, and the "lieutenanting" all +done with from that day and date. +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * * +</p> + +<p> +One morning, about three months after this, the old +postman brought a letter or two for Tom. He had been +walking in the garden with his foster sister, but he sat +down in the arbour to open them. +</p> + +<p> +"Why, Ruth," he cried all at once, "who do you +think is coming here? You would never guess." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh! but I do guess," she replied, blushing like the +autumn roses that were clustering overhead. "It is +Mr. Merryweather. I dreamt about him last night." +</p> + +<p> +"Poor Jack Merryweather!" continued Tom, reading +to himself. "Poor Jack!" +</p> + +<p> +"Tom," said Ruth, laying a hand on his arm, "he +isn't ill, is he?" +</p> + +<p> +She was very pale now. +</p> + +<p> +"No, no, Ruth, he isn't ill; but he'll never serve his +country more. He has lost a leg. Just fancy honest +Jack Merryweather making a dot and carrying one. +Ah, well, I may lose my own next. It is all the +fortune of war, Ruth." +</p> + +<p> +In a week's time Jack arrived. The same old Jack +as ever in mind and manners; the want of both legs +couldn't have changed Merryweather a single little bit. +</p> + +<p> +With him came Raventree, looking somewhat sickly, +but very happy to meet his old friend again. +</p> + +<p> +What a vast cargo of news each one of these three +sailors had got stowed away under hatches. Dan and +his wife were exceedingly pleased to see Merryweather +again, though with the real live lord, Raventree, they +didn't know well what to do, nor at dinner did Ruth or +her mother know how to address him. "My lord," +and "your lordship" were words that they thought it +was but the proper etiquette with which to lard every +sentence. It amused Merryweather and Tom Bure also. +</p> + +<p> +"Lord Raventree, may I help your lordship to +another tatie?" +</p> + +<p> +"My lord, your lordship hasn't got a drop o' gravy." +</p> + +<p> +"Does your lordship like the bishop's nose?" +</p> + +<p> +But Raventree settled the difficulty in fine sailor-like +fashion before the dinner was half finished. +</p> + +<p> +"Now, mother," he said, laughing, "and you, my +pretty sister Ruth, there isn't going to be any more +'lording' at this table; just call me Raventree, as Tom +and Jack do, or Mr. Raventree if you like. If you +don't I shall call you the Lady Brundell, and my sissy +here the Princess Ruth, which title, seeing how modest +and beautiful she is, would suit her to perfection. Now +let us be all equal, all fair, square, and above board. The +charm of spending a night or two in a delightful +old-fashioned cottage like this lies in imagining I live +here always, that there are no wild wars, no battles, no +bo's'n's pipe to call me at the dark hour of a stormy +midnight, and only cock robin's song to greet me of a +morning. Don't dispel my dream, mother. I was +young and foolish once, now I'm older and wiser. +Once I thought it was a fine thing to be a lord. I'd +as lief be a miller now, I think, if I could always live +in a place like this. Do you quite understand, mother?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, dear." +</p> + +<p> +"Ah! that's better. Now I have a mamma and a +mother both. Mamma lives at Raventree Court, +mother lives in a sweet little cottage on the edge of a +broad." +</p> + +<p> +"Raventree," said Merryweather, "you're what old +O'Grady would call 'a broth of a boy.'" +</p> + +<p> +"His heart's in the right place," said Dan. "It +would be better for this country if we had more lords +like this one." +</p> + +<p> +"Why don't you enter Parliament?" said Jack. +</p> + +<p> +"Mamma wants me to," said Raventree. "But it +isn't good enough. No, I shall fight my way to the +poop cabin of a 90-gun ship, hoist my pennant, chase +the French from the seas, and then——." +</p> + +<p> +"Then what?" said Jack Merryweather. +</p> + +<p> +"Why, come back and marry Ruth, of course, and +live happy ever after." +</p> + +<p> +"That I'm sure you won't." +</p> + +<p> +"Why, Jack, why?" +</p> + +<p> +"Why? Because a man can't marry his sister." +</p> + +<p> +"To be sure," cried Dan, laughing. "It's agin' +scripture." +</p> + +<p> +But the ice was broken now, and a right merry +evening was spent. Although, it must be confessed, the +younger folks did most of the talking, Dan was content +to sit and listen and smoke. +</p> + +<p> +Merryweather rose to go at last. +</p> + +<p> +"No, no, no," cried Dan emphatically, "you don't +leave here to-night. The missus will stow you both in +one room. I shan't even apologise for it. You've +been in a smaller before." +</p> + +<p> +So the matter was ended in that way, and Raventree +and Jack stayed at Dan's cottage, not one day, but +several days. It was getting near Christmas time, +however, and Raventree determined to take his two +friends with him to Raventree Court, and to hire a +carriage with postillions for the purpose. +</p> + +<p> +First, though, they all paid a visit to the Ashleys. +The old man was delighted to see his pupil again, +and Merryweather too. +</p> + +<p> +"My eyes! though," he said, "you do stump along +lovely with that timber toe o' yours. Nobody 'ud +know you hadn't been born with it." +</p> + +<p> +Raventree was greatly delighted with the curious +home of the Ashleys, with room above room, or rather +cave above cave. +</p> + +<p> +And with the <i>Fairy</i> too. +</p> + +<p> +"Goin' round, I am," said Ashley, "day after +to-morrow, to Yarmouth. Can't you young 'uns man the +<i>Fairy</i>, and we'll leave the sons at home to fish?" +</p> + +<p> +"Ah! we'll be delighted." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, that's agreed. Help yourselves to more rum." +</p> + +<p> +"I say, Ashley," said Merryweather, "pay any duty +on this?" +</p> + +<p> +"Never a penny," cried Ashley, laughing; "and +what's more, I don't intend." +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * * * * +</p> + +<p> +The next visit of the trio was to the Hall. Lady +Colmore was her own proud self now, and, much to +Raventree's annoyance, paid all her court to him—to +the lord—leaving his friends, figuratively speaking, +out in the dark and the cold. +</p> + +<p> +But Raventree hoisted his topsails after a time, and +stood right away on the other tack. He overhauled the +saucy craft Bertha, and made violent love to her, +greatly to her mother's delight. +</p> + +<p> +"One never knows what may happen, dear," she +told Bertha that evening. "Why, his lordship might +come back some future day and marry you!" +</p> + +<p> +"Please, mother," said Bertha, "I'd rather marry +Tom." +</p> + +<p> +"Tom was dragged up in a cottage, Bertha. You +should study dignity, my love. There, go to bed, child; +you are too young yet. Just let your mother think for +you." +</p> + +<p> +Our three friends had a delightful trip Yarmouth +and back. Of course, they boarded the <i>Belle</i>, and +it goes without saying that the skipper made his usual +speech, beginning: "On this auspicious occasion," and +ending with a strong recommendation to his mate +to "splice the main-brace." +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * * * * +</p> + +<p> +There were no railway trams in those days, be it +remembered, but there were good coaches and horses; +and just a week before Christmas, Raventree, with +Tom and Jack, left Dan's cottage in an open carriage +with four horses and a pair of postillions. +</p> + +<p> +There was just one matter in which young Raventree +delighted to assert his dignity, and that was the matter +of equipage. It was certainly not for pride, however, +albeit, he used to say, "What's the use of being a +lord at all if you can't keep it up on shore?" +</p> + +<p> +Raventree, being a sailor, loved horses, that was all, +and he would have them too. Expense? That didn't +signify, for once in a way. His mamma would pay. +She loved her sailor boy. So right merrily they drove +off from the cottage, Dan and Ruth standing on the +rustic wee bridge, and waving their handkerchiefs to +them as long as they were in sight, and Meg barking +her hardest. +</p> + +<p class="capcenter"> +<a id="img-270"></a> +<br> +<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-270.jpg" alt=""Dan and Ruth stood on the rustic bridge, and waved to them as long as they were in sight.""> +<br> +"Dan and Ruth stood on the rustic bridge, and waved to them as long as they were in sight." +</p> + +<p> +Those three sailors were all as happy as sailors could +be. Two were young, and if Merryweather was not +precisely a spring duck, his heart was as fresh as a +boy's. +</p> + +<p> +The last thing Dan and Ruth saw, before the bend of +the road and the trees hid the carriage from view, was +Jack waving aloft his wooden leg, with a handkerchief +bent on to the top of it. He had unshipped it for the +purpose. +</p> + +<p> +Ninety miles they had to go, but the weather was +fine and the roads were hard. The horses too were +as good as gold, and the postillions smart, and small +enough to be coxswains for an Oxford or Cambridge +boat race. +</p> + +<p> +They made the first five-and-twenty miles of their +journey that day in fine style, and slept that night at a +cosy little old-fashioned inn, in front of a market +square, where they astonished the landlord by the +sumptuousness of the dinner they ordered. +</p> + +<p> +The landlord was a bit put about too, for he was quite +unused to such an order at this season of the year. +</p> + +<p> +But his wife came to his assistance. G——, Esq., +of M—— Hall, was from home, but his cook wasn't. +So a polite request brought her down to the inn, with +the result that the dinner was a repast fit to place +before a Russian Emperor. +</p> + +<p> +Just about sunset, and before they sat down to table, +Raventree and Tom were crossing the village green—a +huge great park of a place, with a pump in the +centre—when a couple of swarthy-looking, but by no means +ill-favoured, gipsy men came up to them. One was +carrying a dark-eyed little child. +</p> + +<p> +"Good gentlemen," this man said, "it is near Christmas +time, and we haven't much in the caravan yonder +except five small children. We can't eat those." +</p> + +<p> +He smiled pleasantly as he held out his hand. +</p> + +<p> +Something yellow crossed his palm, and with +blessings sounding in their ears our sailors marched +on, and soon forgot all about it, for the time being. +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * * * * +</p> + +<p> +"By-the-by," said Tom that evening to Merryweather, +"did you ever hear anything more of that +fellow Jones whom you thrashed so prettily on the +sands?" +</p> + +<p> +"Well," was the reply, "he volunteered, as we call +it, and I took him in the ship with me as I had +promised." +</p> + +<p> +"And he showed his gratitude?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes; he nearly brained me with a capstan bar at +Gibraltar, then jumped into the sea, and the men said +he was sucked down in an eddy. I don't want any +more gratitude like that." +</p> + +<p> +In due time the carriage arrived safely at Raventree +Court, which of course was all <i>en gala</i>. Tom thought +that Lady Raventree was the most perfect lady he had +ever seen, and his friend's sisters after the first few +hours seemed positively his own. Never in all his life +had he felt more completely at ease than at Raventree +Court, and time appeared to fly on golden wings, so +that three whole weeks went by like one long delightful +dream. +</p> + +<p> +No wonder that when good-byes were said at last, +both Tom and Jack Merryweather had willingly +promised that they would on no account make +strangers of themselves. +</p> + +<p> +The postillions were sorry to go. They had had a +real good time of it, as the Yankees express it, and +departed with tears in their eyes. +</p> + +<p> +Crack went the whips, and away rolled the carriage, +heading east once more—east with a little bit of south +in it. +</p> + +<p> +Thirty miles made their first day's journey, for the +horses were as fresh as salmon, and although snow had +fallen to some extent the roads were clear and hard, so +the whole expedition, as Raventree called it, was as +merry and happy as the traditional sand-boy. +</p> + +<p> +Next day's run, however, would only be twenty +miles, so an early start was not thought necessary. +The sky looked thick and hazy, with the horizon closer +aboard than Merryweather liked it. +</p> + +<p> +"There is snow in the air," the landlord said; "but +you can do it easily, gentlemen, if you push on. Good +luck to you, and the safest of journeys." +</p> + +<p> +A little way past the hostelry where they had stayed +all night was a steep hill, that led upwards through a +clump of trees. Raventree permitted the horses to +slacken speed here, for the ground was somewhat +slippery, and an accident would have been awkward. +</p> + +<p> +As it was the animals had almost to claw their way +uphill, stumbling often, but keeping on their feet. +</p> + +<p> +By the time they reached the top they were well +pumped, and Raventree called a halt. The steam rose +from the animals' hides in the frosty air in clouds, +while their sides heaved like billows. +</p> + +<p> +"I think we can go on now, my lord," said the +leading postillion at last. "'T won't do, your lordship, +to let 'em get too cold." +</p> + +<p> +"Right then," said Merryweather. +</p> + +<p> +At that moment a man sprang from behind the +trees, and placing a piece of rather dirty-looking paper +in Raventree's hand, disappeared again as suddenly as +he had come. +</p> + +<p> +"Why, what is the meaning of this?" said Raventree, +laughing, as he handed the note to Merryweather. +</p> + +<p> +"Well," said the latter, "it's a warning from a +friend, there is no doubt about that." +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Look well to your priming as you pass through +Blackmuir woods.</i>" +</p> + +<p> +"That's plain enough," said Raventree. "Why, +how jolly! We're going to have a real adventure +with footpads." +</p> + +<p> +When they pulled up at the top of the next hill to +breathe the horses once again—for the snow was now +whirling round their heads in gusts that were almost +suffocating— +</p> + +<p> +"Boys," said Merryweather to the postillions, "where +is Blackmuir wood?" +</p> + +<p> +"Twelve mile far'er on, sir." +</p> + +<p> +"Are your pistols loaded?" +</p> + +<p> +"That they be, sir. We knows Blackmuir well." +</p> + +<p> +Crack went the whips again, and it was evident the +boys were not afraid of anything. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap0302"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER II. +<br><br> +THE FIGHT ON BLACKMUIR MARSH. +</h3> + +<p class="poem2"> +"It is the very captain of the thieves."—TENNYSON. +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +The sun was setting by the time the +carriage reached Blackmuir; going down +in a sky of great rolling snow-laden +clouds, with here and there a rift of +blue between; going down with a yellow, +angry glare, that boded no good for the +travellers. A more dreary waste than this +wind-swept moor, on such a wintry afternoon, it would +be difficult to conceive. Lonesome and lovely it would +be in summer time, when the linnets sang among the +patches of golden furze, when the partridges called to +each other among the grass, and water birds made +love in the reedy ponds, while the blackbird's mellow +music, and the wild lilts of the mavis, made the echoes +ring in copse and woodland. But the pools were now +frozen, the bushes were but ghostly shapes, the spruce +trees and pines pointed their snow-laden branches +groundwards and looked like sheeted spectres; and +when the carriage pulled up for a short time, before +plunging down into a wooded ravine, there was no sound +to be heard save the moan of the wintry wind. +</p> + +<p> +The forest they soon entered was fully two miles in +extent—tall beech trees, oaks, elms, and pines, but +with here and there an ocean of undergrowth that +would afford excellent ambush for a footpad. +</p> + +<p> +Slowly the carriage descended the hill. There was +a bridge at the bottom that crossed a rushing stream, +then the hill began to ascend again. But here the +trees almost overhung the road. +</p> + +<p> +No one spoke. The postillions kept their heads +constantly on the move. Tom was kneeling on the +front seat of the carriage, which was an open one, +and peeping into the semi-darkness of the wood. +Raventree and Merryweather sat behind, each grasping +a pistol, while several more lay handy. +</p> + +<p> +"If we are attacked," said Merryweather quietly, +"take good aim, lads, each at the man nearest to him. +Keep steady, and we'll beat the rascals off if there +be fifty——." +</p> + +<p> +Crack, crack, crack. Smoke and flame came from a +thicket near. The leading off horse stumbled and fell, +and the postillion came tumbling to the ground with +him. +</p> + +<p> +"Hold your fire," cried Merryweather. +</p> + +<p> +There was a shout from the wood, and six armed and +masked men suddenly sprang into view. +</p> + +<p> +"Give them fits now," roared Merryweather. +</p> + +<p> +Bang, bang, bang, bang, went a volley, and two men +fell. The others rushed in. +</p> + +<p> +"Hold and deliver!" cried one. "If you fire again +you are dead men." +</p> + +<p> +At that moment the other postillion fell, and horses +and men were now so mixed up that to fire at the +ruffians was impossible, with any degree of safety to +the postillions or horses. +</p> + +<p> +Four huge pistols were levelled at the carriage, and +its occupants seemed marked. +</p> + +<p> +"You haven't a show for it, Merryweather," cried +one of the footpads. +</p> + +<p> +But the fellow's voice, instead of cowing the sailors, +appeared to act like the match that fires a mine. +</p> + +<p> +"By Jove! I know you, Jones," cried Merryweather. +</p> + +<p> +He kicked the door of the carriage open as he spoke, +and sprang like a deer into the road. The wooden-leg +seemed an advantage rather than a drawback. +</p> + +<p> +Pistols cracked again, swords clashed, and horses +plunged. There were shouts, oaths, and screams. +Then high above the din of battle a wild huzza from +the woods, and two new combatants, armed with +cudgels, rushed upon the stage of battle. +</p> + +<p> +Were they footpads? No; but gipsies, and right +sturdily they laid around them. In two minutes +more the battle was decided, every robber <i>hors de +combat</i> or pleading for mercy, and Tom and Raventree +shaking hands with the two swarthy Romany Ryes +they had been kind to three weeks before. +</p> + +<p> +Merryweather had torn the mask from the face of +one of the robbers with no very gentle hand, and there +stood revealed the villainous face of David Jones, the +Welsh smuggler. +</p> + +<p> +Merryweather was angry, virtuously, but <i>very</i> angry. +He clenched his fist, and for a moment it seemed he +was about to dash it at the scoundrel's head; but he +restrained himself. +</p> + +<p> +"This is the second time you've attempted my life, +Jones," he said, "you cowardly rascal." +</p> + +<p> +"The third'll come," was the cool reply, "if I have +the chance." +</p> + +<p> +"That you never shall. You'll hang as high as +Haman." +</p> + +<p> +"We'll see," said the fellow. "If I'm hanged my +ghost shall haunt you." +</p> + +<p> +The prisoners were now secured—death indeed had +secured two—and the postillions once more mounted, +much afraid still, but all intact. One horse had been +killed, and this was the only fatality on the side of the +sailors, although the carriage was riddled with bullets. +</p> + +<p> +The gipsy caravan was not far away, and this was +requisitioned next day, and a start made from the nearest +inn, for Yarmouth; the prisoners being shut up in the +van, and safely guarded by the sturdy gipsies. +</p> + +<p> +At Yarmouth three prisoners were handed over to +the authorities. No, not four. Jones was found dying +in the caravan the evening before they reached town. +He had loosened one hand, found a small knife, and +therewith done the deed that soon hurried him into the +presence of Him who made him. +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * +</p> + +<p> +Every man Jack in those dashing days, who could +wave sword or cutlass or trail a pike, was needed by +the service, so it was unlikely that Raventree or Tom +would be allowed to rest at home. +</p> + +<p> +Nelson himself, minus an arm, minus an eye, had +once more joined the service, and was on duty at this +time in the Mediterranean. +</p> + +<p> +So Raventree and Tom Bure, who had both passed +their examinations with flying colours, and were +therefore full-blown lieutenants, were appointed to a ship +then fitting out for sea at Portsmouth. +</p> + +<p> +Nor was Merryweather entirely overlooked. He was +overhauled, however, by a body of bold ship's doctors. +They agreed that, although a wooden leg would be +awkward on board a ship, it would not incapacitate its +wearer from certain kinds of duty on shore. So +Merryweather found himself in command of as brave +and reckless a lot of blue-jackets as ever reefed a +topsail. They were nominally called coast-guardsmen, +but no one knew better than the townspeople of +Portsmouth, that their principal mission was connected +with the pressgang. +</p> + +<p> +By no means a very elevating employment was this, +nor was it one that Merryweather cared for, only it +had to be done by some one. The king needed men for +his navy, and Merryweather would have carried a +musket for his majesty had he been asked to do so. +</p> + +<p> +In this service—coast-guard—O'Grady, formerly of +the ships in which our heroes had fought, was +Merryweather's best man, and between the two of them +they managed to obtain quite a large number of +"volunteers." +</p> + +<p> +They did not confine their operations to any one +town or place, however. They would be in Portsmouth +one week, probably, and in London or Dover the next, +Mr. Merryweather thinking it best not to be too well +known in any particular port. +</p> + +<p> +Now the <i>Highflyer</i>, in which Tom and Raventree +were to take passage to the Levant, in order to join the +fleet under the Earl of St. Vincent—Sir John Jervis—was +short of men, and what more natural than that +Merryweather and O'Grady should undertake to supply +them? Both officers knew every corner and alley of +old Portsmouth, and what was better still, they knew +every crimp therein. +</p> + +<p> +A crimp was a mean kind of a reptile that lived in +clover upon the earnings of poor Jack in those days, +and that still exists in various forms about the London +docks. But the genus is nowadays threatened with +extinction, for sailors have grown wiser, and instead of +going to low lodging-houses they very frequently are to +be found at those very excellent institutions called +Sailors' Homes. +</p> + +<p> +When Raventree and Tom, delighted to be together. +joined the <i>Highflyer</i>, they found everything in the +direst confusion. The ship had only just been got +out of dock, and the "woodpeckers," as the carpenters +were called, were still on board fitting up, the tapping +of their hammers resounding fore and aft all day +long. +</p> + +<p> +The <i>Highflyer</i> was an old-fashioned gun brig, with +strong masts and lofty; capable of good speed under a +heavy press of canvas, but at the same time a craft +that needed a sailor's eye and a sailor's head to watch +and manœuvre, in dirty weather at all events. Just +the sort of vessel that, if taken aback suddenly in a +squall, was as likely as not to go down stern foremost +in five minutes time or far less. +</p> + +<p> +The captain of the <i>Highflyer</i> was a much older man +than either of our young heroes. His rank, however, +was not post, although he gave himself all the airs of +an admiral of the fleet. +</p> + +<p> +Tom and his friend came off in the gig which had +been sent for them, and McTough, the captain, +condescended to meet them as they came over the side. He +smiled as he returned their salute, or rather he made a +grimace that was meant for a smile. +</p> + +<p> +A little short dark man he was, with a Highland +accent, and a manner that was intended to denote that +on his own quarter-deck there was no one in all the +wide world to compare with McTough, and that it +would only be waste of time to attempt to get to +windward of him. +</p> + +<p> +"We're all in blessed confusion at present," he said, +"and sure we'll be so too for days and days. Not half +my men either; but Merryweather will soon find +them. Ah! he's the right sort. I was a middy with +him. Come below, gentlemen, to my cabin. It's +the only place in the ship that isn't thoroughly +thro'-other." +</p> + +<p> +"Steward!" he cried, when they had seated +themselves, "bring the wine." +</p> + +<p> +It was Scotch wine that the steward brought—in +other words, Highland whisky. +</p> + +<p> +The captain half-filled a tumbler and tossed it off, +and seemed a little astonished that Tom and Raventree +did not tackle the stuff in the same off-hand way. +The captain's first glass was drunk "neat," that is, +without water; the second was diluted, and this one +was evidently meant only to trifle with as he kept +talking, for before they rose to go on deck he +helped himself to another, saying, "Pooh! no, it spoils +the flavour," as Raventree passed the water across to +him. +</p> + +<p> +That evening Merryweather and O'Grady came off, +and all four dined in the captain's cabin. There was +plenty here to eat and drink, and the wines were of +the best vintage; but nothing would Captain McTough +touch except the wine of his native land. +</p> + +<p> +"I'll have fifteen as handsome volunteers for you," +said Merryweather in the course of the evening, "as +ever kept a watch." +</p> + +<p> +"It's me myself that is pleased to hear it," said +McTough, ignoring the rules of grammar in his +excitement. "And they'll come of their own free will, of +course?" +</p> + +<p> +Merryweather smiled. +</p> + +<p> +"Better have your surgeon on board," he said, "for +I expect there'll be a broken head or two to see to +among the lot." +</p> + +<p> +"And let me just tell you this, Merryweather, I +like the men best that come on board with broken +heads. It shows they're no hinkumsneevies."* +</p> + +<p> +</p> + +<p> +* Hinkumsneevie—a mean, worthless fellow, with no "go" in +him. +</p> + +<p> +</p> + +<p> +"Ah! well, McTough, I like to lay them aboard as +easily as possible." +</p> + +<p> +"You always were soft-hearted, Merryweather." +</p> + +<p> +"And, Tom, you'll come with us and see the fun. +I know Raventree will." +</p> + +<p> +"Well," said Tom, "I'd just like to know how +it is done. But it seems rather hard on the poor +sailors." +</p> + +<p> +"For king and country," said Merryweather. +</p> + +<p> +"If that's a toast," said McTough, "we'll drink it." +</p> + +<p> +And he did. McTough never missed an opportunity +of drinking a toast. +</p> + +<p> +And soon after he went to sleep in his arm-chair, +which was always McTough's way of intimating to his +guests that they might leave when they liked. +</p> + +<p> +"Dine with me to-morrow evening at the 'Fountain,' +then," said Merryweather, as he shook hands with his +friends and went over the side. +</p> + +<p> +"A different kind of craft this from the old +<i>Agamemnon</i>," said Tom when the boat had shoved off. +</p> + +<p> +"I don't like her, Tom." +</p> + +<p> +"And I don't like McTough." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, suppose we get clear of her as soon as we can." +</p> + +<p> +"Agreed." +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap0303"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER III. +<br><br> +"VOLUNTEERS" FOR THE NAVY.—THE BURNING OF THE<br> +"HIGHFLYER." +</h3> + +<p class="poem"> + "I'm a freeman—a nabob—a king on his throne,<br> + For I've chattels and goods and strong beer of my own."<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +The "gentleman" who wished to see +Commander Merryweather, just as he +and his two friends had finished dinner +at the "Fountain" next evening, was not +a person one would have taken to very +readily. +</p> + +<p> +A tall, fair-haired, bland, inscrutable kind of man, +with a shifty eye. He bowed most obsequiously to +Merryweather, then looked doubtingly at Tom and +Raventree, who were both in mufti. +</p> + +<p> +"Friends," said Merryweather curtly. +</p> + +<p> +"Officers, I presume," said Bloggs, for that was +his sweetly-savoured name, and he smiled and bowed +again. +</p> + +<p> +"Enough of that, Bloggs," said Merryweather. +"Help yourself to some wine, and let's get to +business. Are your men all ready to volunteer?" +</p> + +<p> +"To a man, Capting Merryweather." +</p> + +<p> +"There now; no names, please. Where are they +now, and what doing?" +</p> + +<p> +"They're all on the carouse. Tossing cans, and +singing, at No. 9 back-room." +</p> + +<p> +"How many in all?" +</p> + +<p> +"Over twenty; nearer thirty. I've refused them +more liquor." +</p> + +<p> +"Fool!" +</p> + +<p> +"See here, Capting—I means mister. I knows my +biz, you knows yours. Supposing I'd been too liberal +wi' the grog, they'd have suspected. There's some +among 'em suspects now. I knows what I'm about." +</p> + +<p> +"All right. And they're in the back hall?" +</p> + +<p> +"Ay, and a fiddler's just gone in." +</p> + +<p> +"Keep them dancing and gay, Bloggs, till after +midnight. We'll be there. Yes, empty the bottle if +you like." +</p> + +<p> +Bloggs had a double allowance of wine, bowed, +smiled, and retired. +</p> + +<p> +"Awful villain!" said Merryweather. "Those +poor fellows we're going to have, if we can, have most +of them been there a week, and hardly ever seen +daylight." +</p> + +<p> +"Does he keep them in the dark?" asked Tom +innocently. +</p> + +<p> +"You don't understand," said Merryweather, laughing. +"He keeps them drunk that he may cheat them, +and they hardly know whether it is night or day. +If we didn't have them, Bloggs would bundle them, +still drunk, on board some merchantman, five, six, or +even ten at a time, receive their advance, and go +smiling on shore again, to allure more to his dismal +den. The ships that take them lie in the harbour for a +day or two, and as soon as the poor seamen are sober it +is up jib and off." +</p> + +<p> +The back hall of No. 9 was considered the safest +crimp's crib in all Portsmouth. It lay fifty yards +off the street. You entered by a narrow alley, then +found yourself in a kind of garden, at the bottom of +which stood the hall, or dancing howff. Here poor +Jack drank, danced, ate, and slept, awaking only to +eat, dance, and drink again. +</p> + +<p> +Let us look in here to-night. It will be some time +before our eyes are quite used to the clouds of tobacco +smoke; then we can dimly see Jack and Sally, or Poll, +seated at tables round the room, smoking, singing, and +yarning. There is a screechy old fiddle at quite the +other end of the big room, and half-a-dozen couples +on the floor footing it lightly on the fantastic toe, or the +heavy heel. +</p> + +<p> +The hubbub and din is fearful, for more than one +song is going on at the same time, though if you listen +you can just make out the words of the singer at the +nearest table. His eyes sparkle with mirth as he trolls +out the following ditty: +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "Wounds! here's such a coil! I'm none of your poor<br> + Petty varlets, who flatter and cringe, and all that;<br> + I'm a freeman, a nabob, a king on his throne,<br> + For I've chattels and goods, and strong beer of my own.<br> + Besides, 't is a rule, that good fellows ne'er fail,<br> + To let everything wait but the generous ale.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + <i>Chorus</i>—Besides——"<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +That chorus was never sung. +</p> + +<p> +"Long live the King," shouted Merryweather, entering +by the only door, and apparently all alone. +</p> + +<p> +"Now, good fellows, it's all up; so who's going to +fight the French for St. George and merrie England?" +</p> + +<p> +There was just one moment of stillness after this +bold, brief speech, then pandemonium seemed suddenly +let loose. A shower of bottles, jugs, and cans came +floating towards Merryweather, but he ducked and +retired; women screamed, tables were overthrown, and +amidst oaths and maledictions a rush was made for the +door. +</p> + +<p> +A few were knocked down and handcuffed as they +came, but the rush was too great, even for the force of +bluejackets. +</p> + +<p> +The fight in the garden was a fearful one. The +moon shone as brightly as day, and in less than a +minute showed at least a dozen couples struggling on +the ground. +</p> + +<p> +It was not the object of the seamen to stop to fight, +however, but to escape. +</p> + +<p> +The second rush was through the alley, but here +they encountered Merryweather's rear-guard. So well, +indeed, had he disposed of his men, that out of the +thirty odd merchant seafarers only about seven escaped. +</p> + +<p> +There was no happier man next morning than +Captain McTough, as he reviewed his +volunteers—twenty-two in all, and scarcely one among them who +had not a cut face or blood-matted hair. +</p> + +<p> +And now a strange thing occurred. The very man +who last evening had been singing about being +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "A freeman, a nabob, a king on his throne,"<br> +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +stepped out of the ranks and saluted the captain. +</p> + +<p> +"Men," he said, "I'm a volunteer." +</p> + +<p> +"And we're all volunteers, Bill," they shouted. +</p> + +<p> +Then he turned to Merryweather. +</p> + +<p> +"It doesn't matter a deal," he said, "now we're here, +whether we volunteer or not. But, sir, I wish you +were going with us, timber toe and all; for, faith! you +fought finely, and I love a brave man." +</p> + +<p> +Merryweather shook the man by the hand, and the +volunteers cheered him as he went over the side. But +I may as well state here as anywhere else that Bill +Williams—and a bold Welshman he was—turned out +one of the best men in the ship. And if a man could +be good under such a tyrant as Commander McTough +he could be good anywhere. +</p> + +<p> +The brig had not got half-way over the Bay of +Biscay before this officer showed the cloven hoof. He +had no less than two men down from aloft in the same +forenoon, stripped and flogged—four round dozen each, +<i>sans ceremonie</i>. +</p> + +<p> +His language was also, to say the very least, far from +polite. +</p> + +<p> +McTough was a sample of the naval officers who +are despots on their own quarterdecks, and who, even +in those days, I am happy to say were comparatively +rare. +</p> + +<p> +Tom Bure was sick of the fellow in four or five days' +time, and could hardly be civil to him. +</p> + +<p> +Raventree ventured to take a man's part, and +received such a torrent of invective that he told +McTough, there where he stood, that he was a scoundrel +and a villain. +</p> + +<p> +"Mutiny! Rank mutiny!" roared McTough, growing +almost black in the face. "Down—below—under +arrest, sir. I have half a mind to hang you to-morrow +morning at the yard-arm. I have." +</p> + +<p> +Raventree smiled, gave up his sword—it was at +divisions—and went quietly below to his cabin. +</p> + +<p> +"I have orders to let no one in to see the gentleman," +said the sentry, when Tom went below that +evening. +</p> + +<p> +But Tom got in for all that. +</p> + +<p> +Raventree was lying on his cot, reading by the +light of a jimble-lamp. +</p> + +<p> +"Tom," he said, "you mustn't stay a minute. I'll +be cashiered as sure as a gun. But you needn't be." +</p> + +<p> +"Keep up your heart," said Tom. "You're not tried +yet, and there's many a thing may happen before we +join the fleet." +</p> + +<p> +Tom's prophecy came terribly true. +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * * +</p> + +<p> +It was some nights after Raventree had been put +under arrest, and towards the end of the middle +watch—kept to-night by Tom, for it was watch and watch +now that his friend was off duty—when Bill Williams, +who had been sent below on some message, returned +hastily on deck. +</p> + +<p> +"I beg your pardon, sir," he said, "but there is a +a terrible smell of burning between decks. Will you +run down?" +</p> + +<p> +Tom had not far to run. Not "smell" alone, but +smoke was issuing from underneath the door of the +captain's cabin. The alarm was given at once, and the +fire bell had not clanged for a minute before every man +was on deck. No disorder, however, no confusion. +They were British seamen—Hearts of Oak. +</p> + +<p> +The door of the cabin was found locked inside, but +was speedily burst in, and as speedily flames rushed +out. Even had he been alive, there could have been +no hopes of saving the unhappy captain; but ten to +one he himself or the wine of his native land had +been the cause of the terrible calamity. +</p> + +<p> +Tom Bure now assumed command, and he and +Raventree, whom fate had relieved from arrest, at +once divided the crew into two parties. Both worked +like heroes, one party to get up the ammunition, of +which there was quite a large store on board, the +other in drawing water, to quell, if possible, the +raging demon, Fire. The ship was put head to the +wind, but in less than half an hour she had fallen +off, for the whole afterpart was on fire, and steering +was impossible. +</p> + +<p> +Very speedily now the flames took possession of +the rigging, and the scene that ensued baffles +description. In less than five minutes after the vessel +broached to, she was on fire from stem to stern. +</p> + +<p> +Everything that could be lifted and launched +overboard was thrown out, but there was no time to +lower a boat. The men simply leapt into the sea by +the dozen and score, for there had been nearly 200 +men all told when the brig swung out past the Needles. +</p> + +<p> +Tom Bure and Raventree, with many others, including +Bill Williams, had sought refuge on the jibboom and +bowsprit. It was but a choice of deaths apparently, +when suddenly Bill shouted: +</p> + +<p> +"Oh! look, Mr. Bure, yonder is a light, and it is +bearing this way." +</p> + +<p> +The night was intensely dark, and with the glare +of the fire it seemed impossible that anyone could have +caught sight of a light. +</p> + +<p> +Williams was right, however. +</p> + +<p> +In a few minutes' time boats were alongside picking +up the drowning men, who clung to the floating +wreckage. +</p> + +<p> +Our brave fellows on the jibboom cheered them, +Frenchmen though they could see they were. Their +great black frigate lay out yonder against the star-studded +horizon, gently rising and falling on the swell +of the mighty Atlantic. +</p> + +<p> +"We'll be all prisoners," said Bill. +</p> + +<p> +"Never mind, Williams," said another sailor, "any +port in a storm; but I say, Jack, I——" +</p> + +<p> +Crash! The bowsprit was severed, and down went +the jibboom into the sea. In another minute the brig +had filled aft, heeled backwards, and gone down stern +first, leaving but a few black, seething, smoking spars +among the bubbling waves. Half at least of the poor +fellows who had thought themselves safe on the +jibboom were sucked down with the sinking ship. +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * * +</p> + +<p> +Of all the crew of the sturdy brig <i>Highflyer</i>, only +fifty-three mustered at daylight on board the French +frigate. +</p> + +<p> +"My dear Tom," said Raventree, "I have never felt +more thankful for anything than to see your face +among the saved." +</p> + +<p> +"And I to see you, Raventree." +</p> + +<p> +"And I to see you both, gentlemen," said bold Bill +Williams, advancing. +</p> + +<p> +Both Tom and Raventree reciprocated by shaking +the honest fellow by the hand. +</p> + +<p> +Nothing could exceed the kindness of the Frenchmen +to the men they had rescued in so strange a manner. +</p> + +<p> +Raventree and Tom were invited into the captain's +cabin, and there they breakfasted. +</p> + +<p> +"It is very kind of you to treat prisoners thus," said +Tom. +</p> + +<p> +"It ees all well," said the captain; "and it ees de +fortune of de war. Perhaps it may be my turn next." +</p> + +<p> +A day or two after this, and early in the morning, +the strange spectacle was witnessed of a large French +frigate coming straight in from the north-west, under +all sail, towards the fleet of Sir John Jervis, who was +still blockading Cadiz. +</p> + +<p> +Here was a mystery that made every man on every +ship stare in amazement. +</p> + +<p> +Was peace declared, or was that ship mad? +</p> + +<p> +Mad or not mad, she made directly for the admiral's +ship, with a white flag flying at her fore, and the +French stripes at her peak. +</p> + +<p> +She wanted to speak, that was evident enough. So +a boat was speedily hastening towards her. When the +officer stepped on board he was quickly told the +terrible story of the burning of the <i>Highflyer</i>, and the +saving of a portion of her crew, whom the French +captain now desired to give up to the admiral of the +British fleet. +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "One touch of Nature makes the world kin."<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +St. Vincent was much affected by this display of +genuine kindness and chivalry. He insisted upon the +French captain coming to dine with him, and when +the frigate at last got under weigh a signal was made +to man yards, and a cheer went over the water after the +receding ship that must have rung in the ears of the +crew for many a long day after. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap0304"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER IV +<br><br> +THE SEARCH FOR THE FRENCH FLEET—AT LAST. +</h3> + +<p class="poem2"> + "Now's the day, and now's the hour,<br> + See the front of battle lower."—BURNS.<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +We must now return to our hero Nelson. +</p> + +<p> +In an early chapter of this story I +mentioned that the great man had once +gone to Paris, and had there met an +officer who was somewhat of a dandy, +and whose name was Ball. +</p> + +<p> +Nelson had found it impossible to associate bravery +and pluck with fine clothes. This dislike to fine +clothing he had doubtless picked up in the merchant +ship in which he served for a time, and it had clung +to him. However, he lived to find out that though +first impressions are usually very strong, it does not +follow that they are always just and correct. +</p> + +<p> +After joining St. Vincent, about the end of April, +the admiral of the fleet got word that the French +were getting ready a great expedition at Toulon and +Genoa.* It was not known for what this armament +was intended, and various conjectures were hazarded. +Perhaps the enemy meant to attack Naples or Sicily, +or to invade Ireland. However, this armament of +theirs must be sought for and destroyed if possible. +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="footnote"> +* <i>Vide</i> Map. +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +Now there were many officers senior to Nelson on +the station, and on one or other of these—so they +thought—ought to have devolved the command of +the anti-French squadron. +</p> + +<p> +The Earl of St. Vincent, however, thought different. +He <i>knew</i> Nelson; knew what he could dare and what +he could do; knew how wise and clever he was, how +energetic, bold, and determined; knew that if he +undertook a mission of any kind he would, figuratively +speaking, "give neither sleep to his eyes nor slumber +to his eyelids" until he had fulfilled it. +</p> + +<p> +But when the admiral of the fleet appointed him +to the search-squadron there was a howl of rage from +all quarters, at home as well as abroad. Sir John +Orde, a senior in the service to Nelson, let his wrath +get such mastery over him that he challenged +St. Vincent to fight a duel. St. Vincent was no fool, +and I suppose quietly lit a pipe with the challenge. +Anyhow, it never came off. +</p> + +<p> +But even a lord of the admiralty condemned the +conduct of the admiral of the fleet, who, however, +could stand red tape abuse quite as well as he could +the fire of the French in battle. +</p> + +<p> +Still so high did popular feeling run in some +quarters, that one trembles to think what the fate +of our great hero would have been, had he been beaten +by the foe when he at last found his fleet. He would +certainly have been brought home, tried, and probably +executed. +</p> + +<p> +Can you imagine anything more horrible than that +would have been, reader—executing Nelson? But +the mere possibility of such a thing only proves that +the public, which heroes serve so faithfully and well, +is after all like a caged lion or tiger, tame to a fault +with its keeper, the hero, but a savage creature and a +fool in its wrath when crossed or put out of temper. +The public will pamper and idolize a man one day, +and trample his bleeding body under foot the next. +</p> + +<p> +So Nelson sailed with his ships. +</p> + +<p> +He had orders to requisition stores, food, water, +&c., in any port of the Mediterranean he chose. If +such stores were not forthcoming, that port was to +be treated as an enemy's. One exception only was +made; viz., in the case of Sardinia. +</p> + +<p> +Well, this expedition of Nelson's had but a bad +beginning; for while crossing the Gulf of Lyons +he encountered a terrible storm of wind, which +scattered his ships in all directions, and nearly +wrecked the <i>Vanguard</i>, on which his flag was flying. +There is almost as much humour as pathos in the +letter he writes to his wife on this occasion. +</p> + +<p> +"Imagine if you can," he says, "a vain-glorious +man—your husband—walking his quarter-deck on +Sunday evening, with his squadron all around him, +who* looked up to their chief to lead them to glory, +and in whom this chief placed the firmest reliance +that the proudest ships, in equal numbers, belonging +to France would have lowered their flags, and with +a very rich prize lying by him. Figure to yourself +this proud, conceited man when the sun rose on +Monday morning, his ship dismasted, his fleet +dispersed, and himself in such distress that the meanest +frigate out of France would have been a very +unwelcome guest." +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="footnote"> +* The young reader will note that Nelson's grammatical +construction of sentences was not always on an even keel. +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +But, lo! the very man whom Nelson had so despised +in France, and dubbed a dandy and a fop, came now +to his assistance in the <i>Alexander</i>, and at the imminent +danger to both ships of foundering, took him in tow +to St. Pierre. No wonder that Nelson loved the man +from that day forth. +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * * +</p> + +<p> +In a few days' time, however, Nelson had undergone +repairs, and was able once more to start on his voyage. +But, alas! he had lost sight of his frigates. +</p> + +<p> +Britain and France at this time, reader, you must +remember were playing at cross purposes to some +extent, and great wars usually have been carried on in +this way. Britain and France, not content with +hitting each other in the face straight from the +shoulder whenever they had a chance, did all they +could to kick the stools from under each other. For +instance, we bolstered up the kingdom of Naples, +which has well been stigmatised as one of the most +abominable, disreputable, and licentious of European +governments. The king was inferior to an English squire. +He would have been good in a rat hunt with fox terriers, +or in a rabbit coursing match; but he was utterly +unfitted either to fight or rule a people. His wife, the +queen, was—well, the least said the better. And we, +Britain, were to protect the two of them against the +revolutionary schemes of France, not, mind you, +because we loved them, but because we hated France. +This kingdom then was the stool we intended to kick +from under France. But kicking is a game both +can play at, and France turned her attention to India. +They would attack us <i>there</i>, just as the Russians will +before fifty years are over. May they be as unsuccessful +as old Napoleon was. +</p> + +<p> +But before India could be used as a basis of +operations against Britain, Egypt must be conquered and +occupied. +</p> + +<p> +It must be confessed too, that the French carried out +their plans for the invasion of Egypt with consummate +skill and boldness, for as your school history tells you, +reader, Napoleon, with an army of 30,000 old and +well-disciplined troops, managed to hoodwink the British +and put to sea <i>en route</i> for Alexandria. +</p> + +<p> +Malta fell in the first off-go. +</p> + +<p> +Napoleon landed in the end of June unopposed near +to Alexandria. +</p> + +<p> +The conquest of Egypt followed in rapid course. +With such troops, under such a splendid commander, +this conquest was all one glorious picnic. So the +battle of the Pyramids was fought, and crushed was +the pomp and panoply of the great Marmelukes. +Cairo fell, and on marched the victorious troops. +</p> + +<p> +So sure of getting his army to India was Napoleon, +that as soon as he landed he dispatched secret envoys +to Tippoo Saib, son of Hyder Ali, who had built up a +great new state in the south of India. These envoys +were to inform Tippoo to hold himself in readiness for +a <i>coup de grace</i>, because the French were on their way +to his assistance. +</p> + +<p> +BUT—and please note this is a very important +<i>but</i>—Napoleon's dreams of further glory in India depended +entirely upon his being able to keep up his +communications with France, and, says Davenport Adams, +"while France held Italy and the Ionian Islands these +could not be interrupted, so long as the British +armament in the Mediterranean was kept occupied in +watching the movements of the French fleet." +</p> + +<p> +The <i>raison d'etre</i> of Nelson's movements will now be +easily seen. +</p> + +<p> +Owing to the shilly-shalling and inactivity of the +king of Naples, who would neither move hand nor foot +to save himself or help to free Italy, Nelson was very +much delayed. Meanwhile St. Vincent was reinforced +by ships sent from England. His lordship had +previously received word that such reinforcement was +about to be dispatched, and therefore he had lost not +a moment in getting ready another squadron to send to +Nelson's assistance, and this consisted of the most +powerful ships under his command, under the best of +his captains. +</p> + +<p> +No sooner, therefore, were the outcoming fleet visible +off Cadiz Bay, than Troubridge's squadron sailed. It +was upon the 9th of June that the hero was joined by +this squadron. +</p> + +<p> +Then commenced the great game of hide and seek. +Nelson had to solve a puzzle somewhat similar to the +pictorial advertisement, in which you are presented +with an illustration called "The babes of the wood and +cock robin." There lie the babes under the trees +quietly enough, with a few leaves over them, but +where is cock robin? That is what you have to find +out. And here was Nelson with his squadron in the +Mediterranean—the Mediterranean was all about +him, blue and evident enough, but where was the +French fleet? That was what the hero had to +find out. +</p> + +<p> +The story of Nelson's search for the enemy would +make a very pretty and romantic story all by itself. +</p> + +<p> +Nelson, however, was not a man to be very easily +disheartened, so he started in pursuit, if such a +blindman's buff could be termed pursuit. He learned that +the enemy had been seen off Trapani, in Sicily, in the +first week in June, and that they were then steering +eastwards away. +</p> + +<p> +Troubridge next found out that they had gone to +Malta, and Nelson bore up for that city of tumbledown +forts and steps and stairs. +</p> + +<p> +Nelson arrived at Malta just too late. So on the +18th of June he steered for Egypt. Had Nelson only +had the frigates with him, which he had lost sight of +in that unlucky gale in the Gulf of Lyons, it would +not have been difficult now to find the French. +On his way to Alexandria, however, he overhauled +several merchantmen, but could get no tidings of the +enemy. +</p> + +<p> +"Have you seen anything of the French fleet?" was +the question that seemed to be always put. "Or you? +Or you?" +</p> + +<p> +And the answers were always— +</p> + +<p> +"No, no, no." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, they may be at Alexandria," thought Nelson. +He arrived off this city on the 28th of June. +</p> + +<p> +"No," was again the answer to his enquiries; the +French had not been seen or heard of. +</p> + +<p> +But the governor had received intelligence that the +armament prepared by the French was really intended +for Egypt. +</p> + +<p> +"It would have been," says Southey, "Nelson's +delight to have tried Bonaparte on a wind. It would +have been the delight of Europe too, and the blessing +of the world, if that fleet had been overtaken with its +general on board. But of the myriads and millions of +human beings, who would have been preserved by that +day's victory, there is not one to whom such essential +benefit would have resulted as to Bonaparte himself. +It would have spared him his defeat at Acre—his only +disgrace; for to have been defeated by Nelson upon +the seas would not have been disgraceful, and it would +have spared him all his after enormities. +</p> + +<p> +"Hitherto his—Bonaparte's—career had been glorious, +the baneful principles of his heart had never yet passed +his lips. History would have represented him as a +soldier of fortune, who had faithfully served the cause +in which he had engaged, and whose career had been +distinguished by a series of successes, unexampled in +modern times. A romantic obscurity would have hung +over the expedition to Egypt, and he would have +escaped the perpetration of those crimes that have +incarnadined his soul with a deeper dye than that of the +purple for which he committed them—those acts of +perfidy, midnight murder, usurpation, and remorseless +tyranny, which have consigned his name to universal +execration now and for ever." +</p> + +<p> +Not finding the French at Alexandria, Nelson steered +north for Caramania, and thence along the shores of +Candia, "carrying a press of sail both night and day +against a contrary wind." +</p> + +<p> +He next returned towards Sicily, only to find that +the Government of Naples were too much afraid of the +French to give him any assistance in the shape of water +and provisions, without which he could not have +continued his pursuit of the enemy. +</p> + +<p> +But Nelson had a friend at Court, and after some +little vexatious delay he was permitted to re-victual +at Syracuse. +</p> + +<p> +Nelson was glad at heart now, and wrote to Sir +William Hamilton, the British Ambassador at Naples, +and to Lady Hamilton, as follows: "Thanks to your +exertions, we have victualled and watered, and surely, +watering at the fountain of Arethusa, we must have +victory. We shall sail with the first breeze, and be +assured I will return either crowned with laurel or +covered with cypress." +</p> + +<p> +He wrote also to St. Vincent, telling him that if the +enemy was still above water he should find them; and +to the First Lord of the Admiralty, saying, among other +things, "but should they be bound to the Antipodes, +your lordship may rely upon it that I will not lose +a moment in bringing them to action." +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * * * +</p> + +<p> +On the 25th of July Nelson got away from Syracuse, +and made the Gulf of Coron on the 28th. +</p> + +<p> +One cannot help pitying poor Nelson at this time, +lying awake in his bed at night after a few hours of +sleep, thinking and worrying till almost ill, asking the +officer of the watch again and again what time it was, +and peevishly crying, "Will morning never come?" +</p> + +<p> +There was hardly an hour of the day now that he +did not lament and bemoan the loss of his frigates, that +were no doubt looking for him somewhere, as eager +to meet him as he was to catch sight of them. +</p> + +<p> +In this game of hide-and-seek, or blind man's buff, +strange as it may seem, the French and British fleets +must positively have crossed each other's tracks on +the night of June 22nd. +</p> + +<p> +Troubridge now entered the port of Coron, and came +back with the news that a whole month before this the +French fleet had been observed steering to the south-east +from Candia. +</p> + +<p> +Nelson determined, therefore, to once more bear up +for Alexandria, convinced in his own mind that the +fleet of the enemy would be found there. +</p> + +<p> +Nor was he mistaken. +</p> + +<p> +For on the morning of August the 1st Captain Hood, +of the <i>Zealous</i>, hoisted the signal to say he had +discovered them. +</p> + +<p> +"Thank God!" said Nelson fervently. "At last!" +</p> + +<p> +He had hardly slept or eaten for a week before this, +but to-day he dined with his captains, while preparations +for battle were being made. As they rose from +the table Nelson exclaimed, +</p> + +<p> +"Before this time to-morrow I shall have gained +a peerage or Westminster Abbey!" +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap0305"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER V. +<br><br> +THE BATTLE OF THE NILE—HORRORS OF THE<br> +COCKPIT—NELSON WOUNDED. +</h3> + +<p class="poem2"> + "Commanding fires of death to light<br> + The darkness of the scenery."<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +Tom Bure and Raventree, after the +burning of their ship, and their wonderful +deliverance from what seemed the +certainty of death, would, upon their arrival +on board the flagship of the Earl of +St. Vincent, have dearly liked to have +been appointed together to the same ship, but this +was not to be. Tom Bure had to join Troubridge, +of the <i>Culloden</i>, and Raventree was sent on board the +<i>Zealous</i>, under Captain Samuel Hood. +</p> + +<p> +On the very morning that the French fleet was +discovered, not altogether satisfied with the outlook, +Raventree had himself run aloft, and had not been +there three minutes before he was able to raise the +topgallant masts of the Frenchmen. He immediately +hailed the deck, and the glad signal was at once +hoisted. +</p> + +<p> +It may be to the advantage of the reader to scan +the following lists of the ships, guns, and men of +the two fleets that were engaged in +</p> + +<p class="t3"> + THE BATTLE OF THE NILE.<br> +</p> + +<pre> + I. <i>British Line of Battle at the Nile</i>.* + + SHIPS. CAPTAINS. GUNS. MEN. + + 14 Culloden . . . Troubridge . 74 ... 590 + 4 Theseus . . . . Miller . . . 74 ... 590 + 7 Alexander . . . Ball . . . . 74 ... 590 + 8 Vanguard . . . <i>Nelson</i> . . . 74 ... 525 + 9 Minotaur . . . Luis . . . . 74 ... 640 + 6 Leander . . . . Thompson . . 50 ... 343 + 11 Swiftsure . . Hallowell . . 74 ... 590 + 1 Audacious . . . Gould . . . . 74 ... 590 + 10 Defence . . . Peyton . . . 74 ... 590 + 2 Zealous . . . . Hood . . . . 74 ... 590 + 5 Orion . . . . . Saumarez . . 74 ... 590 + 3 Goliath . . . . Foley . . . . 74 ... 590 + 13 Majestic . . . Westcott . . 74 ... 590 + 12 Bellerophon . Darby . . . . 74 ... 590 + 15 <i>La Mutine</i> . Hardy + + + II. <i>French Line of Battle</i>.* + + A Le Guerrier . . ....... . 74 ... 600 Taken + B Le Conquérant . ....... . 74 ... 700 Taken + C Le Spartiate . ....... . 74 ... 700 Taken +</pre> + +<p class="footnote"> +* The figures and letters prefixed to each vessel marks on the plan +its position in the battle. +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="capcenter"> +<a id="img-309"></a> +<br> +<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-309.jpg" alt="PLAN OF THE BATTLE OF THE NILE."> +<br> +PLAN OF THE BATTLE OF THE NILE. +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<pre> + SHIPS. CAPTAINS. GUNS. MEN. + + D L'Aquilon ........ 74 ... 700 Taken + + E Le Peuple Souverain ........ 74 ... 700 Taken + + F Le Franklin } Blanquet, 1st { 80 ... 700 Taken + } Contra-Adm. { + + } Brueys, V.A., { + G L'Orient } and { 120 ... 1010 Burnt + } Com.-in-Chief { + + H Le Tonnant ....... 180 ... 800 Taken + + I L'Heureux ....... 74 ... 700 Taken + + K Le Timoléon ....... 75 ... 700 Burnt + + M Le Mercure ....... 74 ... 700 Taken + + L Le Guillaume } Villeneuve, { 80 ... 800 Escaped + Tell } 2nd Con-Ad. { + + N Le Genéreux ....... 74 ... 700 Escaped + + + French Frigates. + + Q La Diane . . . . 48 ... 300 Escaped + + E La Justice . . . . 44 ... 300 Escaped + + P L'Artemise . . . . 36 ... 250 Burnt + + O La Sérieuse . . . . 36 ... 250 Sunk +</pre> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +It is difficult at this date to determine with any +degree of exactness what were the orders given +to the commander-in-chief of the French fleet by +Napoleon Bonaparte. It seems strange that a great +soldier and conqueror like him should not have sent +away his ships after he had effected his landing, and he +accused Brueys, after that unfortunate admiral was +killed in the battle of the Nile, of having lingered +in Egypt without his orders. The French fleet was +sorely enough needed in other directions. It might +even have succeeded in raising the blockade of +Cadiz. +</p> + +<p> +Be this as it may, here were Brueys and his fleet +safely—as the Frenchmen thought—moored in Aboukir +Bay; in a line of battle of such strength that one would +have thought no three navies in the world could have +broken it up. +</p> + +<p> +Brueys would gladly have entered the port of +Alexandria, but his ships were too heavy, so he did the +next best thing. +</p> + +<p> +A glance at the plan will show how the Frenchmen +were positioned in this great fight. But besides the +advantage of location, it will be noticed that the enemy +had also more ships, more guns, and more men than the +British. Brueys might well have felt certain that +victory would be his. +</p> + +<p> +Perhaps it was the apparent impregnability of his +situation that caused him to wait here for Nelson. He +must have known that our hero was headstrong +enough to attack him wherever he found him, and +that in Aboukir Bay he had a reasonable chance of +victory, while in the open sea he would have had +none. +</p> + +<p> +I have not the slightest doubt in my own mind +that Nelson took into calculation, even before he fell +in with the French here, the possibility of their being +moored in battle array, just as he found them. Nor do +I doubt that an attack, even by Nelson, from the +front or in the ordinary way would have been +unsuccessful. But Nelson was no ordinary man, and +never did attack in any ordinary way. So when he +found out how the enemy was moored, it instantly +flashed upon him that if the water of the bay +between their fleet and the shore was deep enough +for such great ships as <i>L'Orient</i> and <i>Le Tonnant</i> to +swing, there was room enough for one line of our +ships to sail up behind them, as a landsman would +call it, and thus attack them on their least prepared +side, while another attacked on the outside. These +were tactics that Brueys was entirely unprepared for, +and never could have even dreamt of. But as it was +getting towards evening when our ships hove in sight, +Brueys must have also flattered himself that Nelson +would not be headstrong enough to attack that night. +No, he would assuredly let go anchor, and commence +the battle at the earliest dawn of day. +</p> + +<p> +Our hero was never a man to wait, however. "Go +at the enemy pell-mell whenever you meet them," +was one of his few mottoes, and now he meant to act +upon it. +</p> + +<p> +He ordered his ships to form in line-of-battle ahead +and astern of the flagship, then signalled to Hood, +of the <i>Zealous</i>, to know if there was depth enough +of water between the French line of battle and the +sandbank. "I do not know," was the reply, "but I +shall stand in and see." +</p> + +<p> +The <i>Zealous</i> started at once on her dangerous mission, +taking soundings as she went leisurely on. +</p> + +<p> +She cleared the shoal. +</p> + +<p> +With her went the <i>Goliath</i>. +</p> + +<p> +Nelson's signal was, "that the headmost ship should +bear down, and engage as she reached the enemy's van, +the next ship to pass by and engage the second, +the third to pass by and engage the third, and +so on." +</p> + +<p> +And one by one our ships took up their positions. +The battle began in earnest at half-past six, and in +half an hour's time it was pitchy dark. +</p> + +<p> +As long as daylight lasted the streaming flags on our +ships could be seen above the white and curling smoke. +As soon as night fell each British ship hoisted four +horizontal lights at her peak. "The third ship," says +Southey, "that doubled the enemy's van was the <i>Orion</i>, +Sir F. Saumarez. She passed to windward of the +<i>Zealous</i>, and opened her larboard guns as long as they +bore on the <i>Guerrier</i>; then, passing inside the <i>Goliath</i> +(<i>i.e.</i>, 'twixt that ship and the land), sank a frigate that +annoyed her, hauled round towards the French line, +and anchoring inside, between the fifth and sixth ships +from the <i>Guerrier</i>, took her station on the larboard side +of <i>Le Franklin</i> (Blanquet's 80-gun ship) and the +quarter of the <i>Le Peuple Souverain</i>, receiving and +returning the fire of both." +</p> + +<p> +The sun had now nearly sunk. +</p> + +<p> +The <i>Audacious</i>, Captain Gould, pouring a heavy fire +into the <i>Guerrier</i> and <i>Conquérant</i>, fixed herself on the +larboard side of the latter, and when she struck passed +on to <i>Le Peuple Souverain</i>. The <i>Theseus</i> followed, +brought down the <i>Guerrier's</i> remaining masts, the main +and mizen, then anchored inside the <i>Spartiate</i>, the third +in the French line. +</p> + +<p> +So much for the inner or land side of the enemy's +fleet. What about the outer? +</p> + +<p> +"While," continues Southey, "these advanced ships +doubled the French line, the <i>Vanguard</i> was the first +that anchored on the outer side of the enemy within +half a pistol shot of the <i>Spartiate</i>. He veered half a +cable, and instantly opened a tremendous fire, under +cover of which the other four ships of his division, the +<i>Minotaur</i>, <i>Bellerophon</i>, <i>Defence</i>, and <i>Majestic</i>, sailed on +ahead of the admiral." +</p> + +<p> +Captain Louis, in the <i>Minotaur</i>, anchored next ahead, +and took off the fire of the <i>Aquilon</i>, the fourth in the +enemy's line. So terrible had the fire of this ship been +that fifty of the <i>Vanguard's</i> men were killed or +wounded in a few minutes. But bold Louis quickly +quieted her. +</p> + +<p> +The <i>Bellerophon</i>, Captain Darby, passed ahead and +dropped her stern anchor on the starboard bow of the +<i>Orient</i>, seventh in the line. +</p> + +<p> +Captain Peyton, in the <i>Defence</i>, took his station +ahead of the <i>Minotaur</i>, and engaged the <i>Franklin</i>, the +sixth in the line; by which judicious arrangement the +British line remained unbroken. +</p> + +<p> +The <i>Majestic</i>, Captain Westcott, got entangled in the +main rigging of one of the enemy's ships astern of the +<i>Orient</i>, and suffered dreadfully from that three-decker's +fire; but she swung clear, and closely engaging the +<i>Heureux</i>, the ninth ship on the starboard bow, received +also the fire of the <i>Tonnant</i>, which was the eighth in +the line. +</p> + +<p> +The other four ships of the squadron, having been +detached previous to the discovery of the French, were +at a considerable distance when the action began. +</p> + +<p> +Troubridge, in the <i>Culloden</i>, was nearest, however, +though some five miles away. He was very unfortunate, +and ran fast aground. The <i>Leander</i> and <i>Mutine</i> +came to his assistance, but were unable to get him off. +The <i>Alexander</i> and <i>Swiftsure</i>, however, kept off the +reef, entered the bay, and commenced the battle in a +most masterly and seaman-like fashion. +</p> + +<p> +Of all our ships perhaps the <i>Bellerophon</i> suffered the +worst. The <i>Swiftsure</i> met her staggering out of the +line, and at first took her for a strange sail, for she +carried not the four horizontal lights. In fact these +had been shot away, with all her masts and cables, +while nearly 200 of her brave crew were either killed +or wounded. +</p> + +<p> +The <i>Swiftsure</i> took her place against the <i>Orient</i>, +which had done the mischief. +</p> + +<p> +The last to come into action was the <i>Leander</i>, which +she did as soon as she found she could be of no service +to poor Troubridge. She took up a position boldly, so +that she could rake both the <i>Orient</i> and the <i>Franklin</i>. +</p> + +<p> +So speedy, determined, and terrible upon the whole +was the attack of the British upon the French line of +battle, and so completely were Nelson's instructions +carried out on both the inner and outside of the lint +that victory was a matter of certainty in a very short +time. +</p> + +<p> +In less than fifteen minutes the two ships first in the +French line were dismasted, and at half-past eight the +third, fourth, and fifth were taken. +</p> + +<p> +When we remember that in a very few minutes after +the <i>Vanguard</i>, Nelson's ship, took up her position every +man at the six guns in the fore part of the vessel was +either killed or wounded, and that these guns were +several times cleared we can easily believe that down +in the ghastly cockpit the surgeons were busy enough +at their terrible work. +</p> + +<p> +Do not forget, reader, that there was no chloroform +in those days, no way of producing insensibility or of +conquering pain, and the brave men who fell on deck +were dragged or carried below bleeding and sick, often +to endure such agonies of pain as only medical men +who have seen gunshot wounds can realise. +</p> + +<p> +At best the cockpit of an old-fashioned man-of-war +ship is but a stuffy place, and during a battle it would +be stifling as well as stuffy. As soon as the orders +were given to clear for action, or go to quarters, all was +bustle and stir with the surgeons as with others. They +had their attendants, and "the idlers"—so called—of +the ship were all requisitioned to assist them—spare +clerks, &c. +</p> + +<p> +Although the space between decks was so low that +an ordinary sized man had to stoop as he walked along, +to save his head from being knocked against the beams +or bolts, there was usually plenty of length and breadth +of beam also, in the cockpit or orlop deck. +</p> + +<p> +Lanterns too were hung here and there in abundance, +and there were carrying lanterns as well, sometimes even +naked lights. +</p> + +<p> +The operating table was placed pretty near to the +foot of the main hatch ladder well aft, and close to it +the tool table. On this last was laid out in order +every instrument that was likely to be of service, with +plenty of bandages, splints, lint, and tow, with +ointment for dressings, &c. On the deck near to this +table were placed buckets of water and bottles of +wine, brandy, or rum, so positioned that they would +neither be in the way nor liable to fall over with any +sudden motion of the ship. +</p> + +<p> +When all was ready the doctors had only to wait as +coolly as they could. The waiting for the first shot was +the worst of it. When the battle was once begun it +was not long before the shuffling of feet overhead, and +the unsteady steps of bearers at the top of the stairs +told of a coming case. As often as not blood came +pattering down first, but blood is nothing to a surgeon +in working dress. So the wound, ghastly though it +might be, was soon seen to, and temporarily dressed, +and the moaning patient laid down near the bulkheads. +Then cases begin to come down thick and fast. +Smoke too, and the suffocating after-damp of the battle +fill the cockpit, the lanterns burn dimly, the heat is +overpowering almost. The doctors are busy enough +now. They throw off their garments, they roll up +their sleeves, their hands and arms are encarnadined, +their faces and hair bespattered with blood, but quietly +and firmly they work, and all as gently as may be. +Many a soothing word of kindness helps to rally a +fainting heart, and they give hope even in cases they +know are dangerous. +</p> + +<p> +But, oh, the heat and the smoke and the stifling +odour! The decks all around are slippery with blood, +which the sprinkled sawdust is not sufficient to absorb. +There are moans and cries and pitying appeals for +help and water—water—water—coming from every +direction. The very water itself is oftentimes red +with blood. +</p> + +<p> +Fainting patients need wine, or even brandy; and +but for that wine and brandy very often the surgeons +themselves would faint with very fatigue and want +of air. +</p> + +<p> +A surgeon's operating tent in the rear of a field +of battle may be a sad and fearful sight; but in +horrors it could not be compared to the cockpit of +an old seventy-four while a fight like that of the +Nile was raging overhead. +</p> + +<p> +It was into the midst of just such a scene as I +have but too feebly depicted that Nelson, wounded +and bleeding, was carried during the night of this +glorious but fearful battle. +</p> + +<p> +The loss of blood has a paralysing effect upon the +nerves and spirits of a wounded man. It is doubly +so if he can feel the blood all about him—feel soaked +in it, swamped in it, without being able to see. +</p> + +<p> +That was Nelson's plight. The piece of shot had +struck him on the forehead, and the flap of skin and +flesh hung over his one remaining eye, entirely +blinding him. +</p> + +<p> +Nelson believed himself dying. +</p> + +<p> +But not even the darkness of what seemed approaching +death could daunt the heart of the hero. +</p> + +<p> +The chief surgeon would have left his other patients +unattended for a time to see to Nelson's wound, but +he would not hear of it for a moment. +</p> + +<p> +"No," he cried, "I will take my turn with my +brave fellows." +</p> + +<p> +And at last that turn came; and even the wounded +and the dying raised a cheer when they heard the +wound, despite the amount of blood lost, was only +superficial. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap0306"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER VI. +<br><br> +THE BURNING OF THE "ORIENT"—A HEART OF OAK. +</h3> + +<p class="poem2"> + "All is wail<br> + As they strike the shattered sail,<br> + Or in conflagration pale<br> + Light the gloom."<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +From seven till eight o'clock the scene of +conflict must have been appalling in the +extreme. No wonder that Arabs gathered +on the beach, and stood in groups looking +on, awestruck and silent. What sounds +those spectators must have heard—the +continued thunder of the great guns, the roar and rattle +of langridge and grape, the crashing of broken timbers, +the shouting of orders, and often the shrieks of the +wounded rising high above the din of battle! And what +sights must have been presented to their view—the +quick, angry flash of cannon, lighting up the darkness +of the night; lighting up the bleak, bristling sides of +the huge ships; luridly lighting up the clouds of white +smoke that at times quite hid the upper decks; and +lighting up the sea with a crimson glare, so that even +floating spars were visible; aye, and drowning men, +with all the debris of great ships in action. +</p> + +<p> +To an onlooker upon the beach all would appear +fearful confusion and chaos. It would indeed seem +almost impossible that anyone should come unscathed +from such an awful scene of battle. +</p> + +<p> +Yet every Heart of Oak in those British ships knew +his duty, and was bravely doing it, and continued to +do it, unless shot down. +</p> + +<p> +And no one acted more bravely or coolly that night +than young Lord Raventree of the <i>Zealous</i>. Men and +officers too fell bleeding at his side. That such sights +affected him there cannot be a doubt, but they failed +to daunt his extraordinary courage. He was here, +there, and everywhere in his battery, issuing his orders +as unfalteringly as if the battle were a mere parade, +his very presence seeming to give additional courage +to the half-naked and smoke-begrimed men who so +bravely obeyed his orders. +</p> + +<p> +But more than once during the battle Raventree +found time to think for a moment of his friend Tom +Bure. Little did he know—he was too busy to know +anything save what was going on around him—that +poor Tom's ship had gone on shore, and that he and +all on board could be but spectators in the battle that +was raging so near them. +</p> + +<p> +Incidents of this memorable fight, and individual +instances of courage, could be related by the score, +but space forbids. +</p> + +<p> +Just a word about Nelson, however. His restless +spirit could ill brook being below. Superficial though +his wound was, important arteries were cut through, +and unless he could be induced to lie down and keep +still, there was great danger. Even before the +surgeon's verdict was given he sent for Mr. Capel, +his first lieutenant, and ordered him off in the +jollyboat to fetch Captain Louis, of the <i>Minotaur</i>, that he +might thank him for his gallant and meritorious service. +At this time Nelson believed himself to be dying. +"It is the hundredth and twenty-fourth time," he said, +"that I have been engaged, but I believe it is now +nearly over with me." +</p> + +<p> +The meeting with Louis was of a most affecting +character, the brave captain of the <i>Minotaur</i> hanging +over his blind and bleeding friend in grief that +precluded any attempt at words. "Farewell, dear Louis," +said Nelson, "I shall never, should I live, forget the +obligation I am under to you for your brave and +generous conduct, and now, whatever may become of +me, my mind is at peace." +</p> + +<p> +Everything points to the conclusion that the great +hero's mind at this time must have been a perfect +whirl of emotions. It is said that even after his +wound had been dressed, and he had sent for his +chaplain and his secretary, the one to attend to his +orders, the other to administer some spiritual comfort, +he desired to be led on deck once more, that he +might behold that awful conflagration—the burning +of the <i>Orient</i>. +</p> + +<p> +This ship was in the midst of the fight till her +destruction, and bravely indeed had she been handled. +It is said that a little before nine o'clock the men of +the <i>Swiftsure</i> detected "signs of fire in her mizenchains, +and pointed their guns towards the spot with +terrible effect; and the flames glided swiftly along the +deck and ran up the masts, and wreathed the yards +and flickered upon the shrouds, throwing an awful glare +on the dense clouds of battle, and distinctly defining, +as in the pageantry of a festal illumination, the spars +and rigging of the contending warships." +</p> + +<p> +Says Clark Russell, in the poetic imaginings of +which he is a past-master: "Fore and aft the flames +were waving in forks and living sheets, and leaping +on high as though from the heart of some mighty +volcano. She had ceased to fire, her sprit-sail yard +and bowsprit were crowded with men, who continued +to crawl out, blackening those spars like flies, as the +raging fire grew. By the wild mast-high flames the +whole scene of battle was as visible as by the light +of the noontide sun. The colours of the flags of the +ships could be easily distinguished. Every rope, every +spar, the forms of the half-naked crews, +smoke-blackened and in active motion, the land beyond, +with all details of the island-fortress and of the +distant, rearmost ships, were startlingly visible by the +glow of the burning ship, the brilliancy of which was +that of the conflagration of a city. +</p> + +<p class="capcenter"> +<a id="img-320"></a> +<br> +<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-320.jpg" alt=""The blowing up of the <i>Orient</i> at the battle of the Nile.""> +<br> +"The blowing up of the <i>Orient</i> at the battle of the Nile." +</p> + +<p> +"Shortly after ten the great ship blew up. The +explosion was like that of an earthquake. The +concussion swept through every seam, joint, and timber +of the nearest ships with the sensation as though the +solid fabrics were crumbling into staves under the +feet of the seamen. The sight was blackened as if by +a lightning stroke, and the instant the prodigious +glare of the explosion had passed, the darkness of the +night seemed to roll down in folds of ink upon the +vision of the seamen." +</p> + +<p> +Says another eloquent writer, and what writer is +not eloquent on such a subject as this?—"The whole +sky was blotched with the corpses of men, like the +stones of a crater cast upward, and the sheet of fire +behind them showed their arms, their bodies, and +streaming hair. Then, with a hiss like electric hail, +from a mile's height all came down again, corpses +first and timber next, and then the great spars that +had streaked the sky like rockets." +</p> + +<p> +The dread silence that followed lasted for nearly +a quarter of an hour. Meanwhile boats from various +ships were generously lowered to pick up the survivors, +and thus nearly eighty were saved. +</p> + +<p> +But where was Admiral Brueys? Poor, brave +fellow, he had been dead before the fire broke out. +Twice had he been wounded; but he stuck to his +place, till a shot almost cut him in two. +</p> + +<p> +When they would have carried him below, "No," +he cried; "let me die on my quarter-deck, as becomes +the admiral of a French fleet." +</p> + +<p> +Among those who perished was Commodore +Casabianca and his faithful little son, a lad of barely +eleven years of age, who died, if not on the quarterdeck, +at least by his father's side, who it is said by +some authorities was wounded and below at the time +of the explosion. +</p> + +<p> +That rough iconoclast, the dissecting critic, +endeavours to dispel all romance from the beautiful +story, immortalised by Mrs. Heman's verses. +</p> + +<p> +I prefer to believe with the poetess, rather than +to sneer with the saucy critic. +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="poem"> + "CASABIANCA.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "The boy stood on the burning deck,<br> + Whence all but him had fled;<br> + The flames that lit the battle's wreck<br> + Shone round him o'er the dead.<br> + Yet beautiful and bright he stood,<br> + As born to rule the storm;<br> + A creature of heroic blood,<br> + A proud though childlike form.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "The flames rolled on—he would not go<br> + Without his father's word;<br> + That father faint on deck below,<br> + His voice no longer heard.<br> + He called aloud, 'Say, father, say,<br> + If yet my task is done!'<br> + He knew not that the chieftain lay<br> + Unconscious of his son.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "'Speak, father,' once again he cried,<br> + 'If I may yet be gone';<br> + But now the booming shots replied,<br> + And fast the flames rolled on.<br> + Upon his brow he felt their breath,<br> + And on his waving hair,<br> + And looked from that lone post of death<br> + In still but brave despair;<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "And shouted but once more aloud,<br> + 'My father, must I stay?'<br> + While o'er him fast, through sail and shroud,<br> + The wreathing fires made way.<br> + They wrapt the ship in splendour wild,<br> + They caught the flag on high,<br> + They streamed above the gallant child<br> + Like meteors in the sky.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "Then came a burst of thunder-sound.<br> + The boy—oh, where was he?<br> + Ask of the winds, that far around<br> + With fragments strewed the sea,<br> + With mast and helm and pennon fair<br> + That well had borne their part;<br> + But the noblest thing that perished there<br> + Was that young and faithful heart."<br> +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * * * +</p> + +<p> +The firing was re-commenced, it is said, by the +French ship <i>Franklin</i>; and the battle raged until about +five o'clock in the morning, with brief spells of +intermission, as when the men of the <i>Alexander</i>, by leave +of their captain, threw themselves down beside +their guns and slept for twenty minutes. The +<i>Alexander</i> was at that time lying close to a French +eighty-four that she had been engaging in deadly +conflict. The men of the latter were also exhausted, +and sunk to sleep; so that side by side, it may be +said, rested French and British. +</p> + +<p> +When dawn of day began to glimmer faintly in the +east there were but two ships of the French line +that had their colours flying—the <i>Guillaume Tell</i> and +<i>Généreux</i>. They were the two rear ships, and had +not been engaged. They soon cut their cables, +however, and stood out to sea. With them went two +frigates. +</p> + +<p> +Raventree was the first to report their intentions +to the captain of the <i>Zealous</i>, and he at once hoisted +sail, and stood after them in pursuit. But there +being no other of our ships in a condition for fast +sailing, the signal was hoisted for his recall. +</p> + +<p> +Thus ended the great battle of the Nile, "the +most complete and glorious in the annals of naval +warfare." +</p> + +<p> +Our loss was indeed heavy, amounting, in killed +and wounded, to 895. +</p> + +<p> +Of the French 3,105, including the wounded, were +sent on shore by cartel (an agreement with an enemy +having reference to exchange of prisoners), and 5,225 +perished. +</p> + +<p> +As Nelson himself said, "Victory is not a name +strong enough for such a scene, it is a conquest." +</p> + +<p> +The only British captain who fell was gallant +Westcott. He was indeed +</p> + +<p class="t3"> +A HEART OF OAK. +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +Westcott was born among the green lanes of +romantic Devon, and in very humble life too. His +father was a baker, and not burdened with too much of +this world's wealth, and his son assisted him in his +business while still a little lad. He used to be sent +frequently on messages to a mill in the neighbourhood. +The miller, as millers often are, was a good-natured +jovial fellow, but one day when young Ben went to +execute some commission for his father he found not +only the miller, but the miller's-man, pulling very long +faces indeed. +</p> + +<p> +"We can't send the flour to-day," the boy was told. +"Perhaps not to-morrow either. We've had a rope +broken, and the working of the mill is quite thrown +out of gear." +</p> + +<p> +"But why not splice it?" said young Westcott. +</p> + +<p> +The miller laughed. +</p> + +<p> +"Who's to do a job like that?" he said. +</p> + +<p> +"Why, I will," was the boy's bold reply. +</p> + +<p> +The miller caught him by the shoulder, and pointed +upwards to where the broken ends of the rope were +dangling. +</p> + +<p> +"You'd have to be hoisted up there, my boy," he +said, "among the pulleys and wheels and things, and +ten to one you'd come down by the run, and break +your neck." +</p> + +<p> +"I can splice that rope," said Ben determinedly, "if +you'll let me try." +</p> + +<p> +"Let the lad try," pleaded the miller's man, and the +master then consented. +</p> + +<p> +The boy, with deft fingers and the aid of a marlin-spike, +worked away for an hour or two, and lo! the +rope was as good as ever. +</p> + +<p> +"And a jolly sight better," said the merry miller. +</p> + +<p> +"I tell you what it is, Ben," he added, "a lad like +you is too good for the shore. You're a sailor born, +and ought to be fighting the French." +</p> + +<p> +"I'd fight them fast enough," said the boy, "but I +don't see a chance." +</p> + +<p> +"I'll get you a chance, lad," said the miller. +</p> + +<p> +And he soon did. +</p> + +<p> +Westcott entered his Majesty's service afloat as a +humble cabin boy. But so clever did he soon prove +himself to be, and so unflagging in his zeal and +attachment to duty, that he soon found himself a +midshipman. For, mind you, boys, in those dashing days of +war, talent was never allowed to wear itself away +before the mast, if it could be found of service on the +quarterdeck. +</p> + +<p> +Young Westcott's advancement went on with rapid +strides after this, and at the battle of the Nile he +commanded the <i>Majestic</i>, and fell fighting like a true +hero. His ship alone had 50 killed and 143 wounded. +</p> + +<p> +This baker boy with heart of oak has a monument +erected to him, at the public expense, in St. Paul's, +which any other boy of the present day who desires to +emulate his deeds may see if he has a mind. +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * * +</p> + +<p> +Thanksgiving to Almighty God, who had so blessed +his Majesty's arms, was returned by the whole fleet at +the same time. And solemn and impressive such a +service must have been on decks still slippery with the +blood of the fallen, and sad evidence of the battle on +every hand. +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * * +</p> + +<p> +I have always considered that trophy of the great +battle which was afterwards presented to Nelson as a +very ghastly one. The <i>Swiftsure</i> had picked up a +portion of the <i>Orient's</i> main-mast, and from it Captain +Hallowell ordered his carpenter to fashion a beautiful +coffin, and this was sent to Nelson. +</p> + +<p> +"Sir," ran the letter that accompanied the <i>memento +mori</i>, "I have taken the liberty of presenting you with +a coffin, made from the main-mast of <i>L'Orient</i>, that, +when you have finished your military career in this +world, you may be buried in one of your trophies, but +that that period may be far distant is the earnest wish +of your sincere friend, BENJ. HALLOWELL." +</p> + +<p> +It shows how little fear of death Nelson had, and +how far from being superstitious he was, that he +ordered the coffin to be placed behind his chair upright +in his cabin. +</p> + +<p> +He was afterwards buried in it. +</p> + +<p> +There are a few words in the above letter of Captain +Hallowell's that strike one as strange, if not indeed +amusing; viz., these, "When you have finished your +military career <i>in this world</i>." Did honest, bluff +Ben. Hallowell think that—with all reverence be it +said—Nelson would recommence to fight the French in the +next? +</p> + +<p class="t3"> +* * * * * +</p> + +<p> +Immediately after the battle or conquest Nelson had +once again to lament the loss of his frigates. Had he +been possessed of these I doubt not he would have +entered the port, and burned all the French stores and +storeships. +</p> + +<p> +"Were I to die at this moment," he is reported to +have said, "the loss of frigates would be found engraven +on my heart." +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap0307"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER VII. +<br><br> +FACE TO FACE WITH THE DANISH SHIPS. +</h3> + +<p class="poem2"> + "Your glorious standard launch again<br> + To match another foe,<br> + And sweep through the deep,<br> + While the stormy winds do blow,<br> + While the battle rages loud and long,<br> + And the stormy winds do blow."<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +The British nation that possibly—very +probably indeed—would have shot our +hero, Nelson, had he lost the Battle of +the Nile, now presented him with the +title of Baron. +</p> + +<p> +He was once more the people's darling. +</p> + +<p> +Could the British nation have done less? +</p> + +<p> +"It was this battle," says Graviére, "which for two +years delivered up the Mediterranean to the power of +Britain; summoned thither the Russian squadrons, +left the French army isolated amidst a hostile +population; decided Turkey in declaring against it; saved +India from French enterprise; and brought France +within a hair's-breadth of her ruin, by reviving the +smouldering flames of war with Austria, and bringing +Suwarrow and the Austro-Russians to the French +frontiers. +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * * +</p> + +<p> +Honours from all directions fell thick and fast +upon our naval hero; yet amid all this glory, what +Nelson longed for more than anything else perhaps +was rest. +</p> + +<p> +He was now on his way back to Naples, but his +long exertions began to tell upon his never very +strong system. He was, while yet at sea, seized with +a fever, and for eighteen hours his noble life was +despaired of. Even after he got over the crisis, he +writes thus despondingly to St. Vincent: +</p> + +<p> +"I never expect, my dear lord, to see your face +again. It may please God that this will be the +finish to that fever of anxiety which I have endured +from the middle of June. But be that as it pleases +His goodness." +</p> + +<p> +However, Nelson was destined to live to accomplish +still further triumphs, as we soon shall see. +</p> + +<p> +As to his doings in the Mediterranean after the +Battle of the Nile; of his return to Naples; of the +rejoicing, pomp, and panoply with which he was +received there; of his private opinion of this corruptest +of Courts; of all his sieges and all his successes until +his return to England, history must inform you, +reader; but the whole story reads like one long +delightful romance, all the more delightful of course in +that it is true. +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * * +</p> + +<p> +The curtain falls for a time on this life-drama, and +our heroes leave the stage for refreshment. As far +as fêtes and feasts were concerned, Nelson was very +much refreshed indeed; and so in those times was +every officer, ay, and every tar, who had been at the +Battle of the Nile. +</p> + +<p> +But soon the curtain rises again, and we behold a +great fleet departing from Yarmouth Roads, under the +command of Admiral Sir Hyde Parker in the <i>London</i>, +98 guns, with Nelson as his second in command in +the <i>St. George</i>, also of 98 guns. +</p> + +<p> +They are bound for the North this time, our gallant +ships; but whither and why? A question that a +sentence can answer. In fact, it can be answered in +the refrain of the good old song: +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +"Britons never shall be slaves." +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +Three Northern nations had formed a league to make +us slaves, at least to wrench from the grasp of +Britannia the sceptre of her rule over the waves. +</p> + +<p> +Just think for a moment, reader, of the terrible +combination that was now formed against us. Russia, +with 82 ships of the line and 40 frigates; Denmark, +French at heart, with 23 ships and 31 frigates; and +Sweden, with 18 ships and 14 frigates. +</p> + +<p> +Our Government had boldly determined to resist +this combination, and crush it. A braver man than +Hyde Parker they could not have had, but Nelson +ought to have been chief, for he was a born +commander. +</p> + +<p> +And so on the 12th of March, 1801, the fleet sailed +away. +</p> + +<p> +Their country had forgotten neither Tom Bure nor +Raventree. They were both now commanders, although +Tom was only in his twenty-first year. +</p> + +<p> +They had spent some time at home, however, and a +right happy time it had been. +</p> + +<p> +There was no change in Dan, but poor old Meg, +the faithful collie, would never meet Tom again. She +was buried with all honours in a grave dug for her +on the green grassy lawn where she used to lie in +the summer days near her dear old master, Uncle +Bob. +</p> + +<p> +All was the same at the Hall, as well as at the +cottage, except that Bertha seemed to have grown +quite up, and was a child no more. +</p> + +<p> +Not only she, but her mother and Dan drove to +Yarmouth to see the great fleet sail away towards the +cold, inhospitable North, and there were tears in +Bertha's beautiful eyes as she bade her old friend Tom +farewell. Merryweather—the same old Merryweather—was +there also, and no less a personage than Captain +Hughes, of the <i>Yarmouth Belle</i>, who made the departure +of our hero Tom a "most auspicious occasion" for +splicing the main-brace, not once, but three separate +times. +</p> + +<p> +Sir Hyde Parker was just a little nervous at starting; +he was candid enough to tell Nelson so. Only he +added: "It is no time for nervous systems, and +icebergs or no icebergs, we shall, I trust, give our +Northern enemies that hailstorm of bullets which +gives our dear country the dominion of the sea. +We have it, and all the devils in the North cannot +take it from us if our ships have but fair play." +</p> + +<p> +You have heard, reader, of the "gallant good Riou." He +was captain of the <i>Amazon</i>, and when some Danes +who were aboard went to him, saying that they had +no desire to quit the British service, but were unwilling +to fight against their country, Riou, instead of snubbing +them as some captains would have done, acceded to +their request, and transferred them. Indeed, so affected +was he by their speech that the tears stood in his eyes. +For the brave are ever generous and kind. +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * * +</p> + +<p> +It seemed indeed as if Heaven fought on our side in +this great expedition, for the weather was milder than +had been remembered for many a year, so that fields +of ice and bergs floated only in the dreams of Sir Hyde +Parker. +</p> + +<p> +The reader, however, must not jump to the conclusion +that it was all plain sailing with Sir Hyde and Nelson. +Very far from it indeed. Nor was it wind and +weather only, but the dangers of straits, and banks, +and shoals that they had to contend against. Yet +Nelson would have made light of all these, and of the +enemy's ships as well, had it not been for the attempts +at negotiation that had to go on with the Danes the +while precious time was being lost, and the armaments +of the foe were getting stronger and stronger every day. +</p> + +<p> +The first thing to annoy and fret poor brave Nelson +was the circumstance that the fleet was to anchor +out of sight of the Danes, till the negotiations were +at an end. Red tape again! +</p> + +<p> +"I hate your pen-and-ink men," he cried impatiently. +"A fleet of British ships makes the best negotiators +in the world. They always speak to be understood, +and their arguments carry conviction to the very +hearts of our foes." +</p> + +<p> +When our fleet was off Elsinore—Nelson had by +this time changed his flag to a handier and better +ship, the <i>Elephant</i>—the admiral forced the passage of +the Sound. The forts fired on them, it is true, but +it is said that never a shot touched a ship. +</p> + +<p> +The fleet then anchored near Huën, an island about +fifteen miles from Copenhagen; and Nelson, with +Colonel Stewart, Admiral Graves, and others, went in +a lugger called the <i>Lark</i> to reconnoitre. +</p> + +<p> +They found that the defences were of all sorts, and +fearful to behold. To begin with, there was the +exceeding difficulty of approach, for the buoys on all +the shoals had been taken up or shifted by the +Danes. Then there was the great Danish fleet to +encounter, drawn up in a line that extended for a +mile and a half in front of the entrance to the harbour. +The ships were flanked by strong batteries, while +batteries bristled all along the shore. +</p> + +<p> +The Danish forces then consisted of the fleet, which +was moored close to the city, six line-of-battle ships, +eleven strong floating batteries, gun brigs, a bomb +vessel, supported by batteries on the Crown Islands, +and four sail of the line drawn up across the harbour +mouth, which was also protected by a great chain. +The whole of the Danish protective armament, including +hulks, batteries, and ships, from end to end, was +about four miles in length. +</p> + +<p> +But in order to get near this terrible array of defences, +the attacking force would have to be navigated through +a most intricate passage among the shoals. +</p> + +<p> +Nelson's greatest trouble was to get safely through +this natural deep-water canal. +</p> + +<p> +On the 31st a great council of war was held, to take +into consideration the best mode of attacking the place, +as the negotiations had fallen through. +</p> + +<p> +Nervous active men, in contradistinction to the +slower and plethoric class, have been termed the "salt +of the earth." Nelson then might well have been +called the "salt of the sea." At this council, which +was not "fast" enough for him by a deal, he kept +pacing up and down the cabin deck, shaking his +"flipper," as the sailors called it, meaning the stump +of his arm. It must have been a grand sight to +behold, and to note his glances of withering scorn at +anyone who for a moment doubted the success of his +plans. +</p> + +<p> +And the refrain of Nelson's song at this council was, +"Let me have but ten line of battle ships, and the +smaller craft, and the battle is ours." +</p> + +<p> +Sir Hyde Parker took him at his word. +</p> + +<p> +Twelve ships he gave him, instead of ten, and also +gave him <i>carte blanche</i> to carry out this detached +service as he thought best. +</p> + +<p> +Nelson was as happy now as a nervous man can +ever be. +</p> + +<p> +Denmark's fleet he looked upon as already in his +power. The Russians and Swedes would be smashed +next. He hadn't forgotten them. +</p> + +<p> +But there was much to be done before this battle +even began. Misplaced buoys must be re-adjusted +along the channel, and during all that night of the +31st—and a bitterly cold one it was—he rowed about +with Captain Brisbane, of the <i>Cruiser</i>, in his open boat +surveying the channel. +</p> + +<p> +Personal experience of this work in sunny seas has +proved to me how tedious and wearisome it is; but how +much more so must it have been to our hero by night, +in that almost Arctic climate. +</p> + +<p> +Despite this, however, the work was satisfactorily +accomplished. +</p> + +<p> +Next day the whole fleet moved close up to the great +shoal, with its middle channel, to which the Danes +trusted as really their first line of defence. +</p> + +<p> +Narrow though the channel was, and light though +the breeze, the division under Nelson, headed by brave +Riou, in the <i>Amazon</i>, went safely in, and at dusk +anchored near Point Draco. +</p> + +<p> +"Here," says Clark Russell, "the narrowness of the +waters as an anchoring ground brought the ships into +a huddle, and infinite mischief might have been done +to the British had the Danes taken advantage of the +crowded state of the fleet, by sending shells amongst +the ships, from mortar boats and the batteries of Amak +Island." +</p> + +<p> +Captain Hardy, we are told, who was amongst those +who up to a late hour that night were taking +soundings, rowed under the very shadow of the Danes' +leading ship, and felt the bottom of the water with a +pole. +</p> + +<p> +To Nelson's great joy, Hardy and the rest returned +with the tidings that there was depth enough of water +for our ships to range themselves in battle array, +between the great shoal they had passed through and +the defences of the enemy. +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * +</p> + +<p> +As usual, Nelson's chief officers, including Hardy, +Foley, Graves, Fremantle, Riou, &c., dined with him +on the eve of the battle, and the hero was in the +highest of spirits. +</p> + +<p> +Riou and Foley remained with Nelson to plan details +after the others had gone, and the great fight was +commenced next morning, the ships filing into line, and +taking up their positions with steadiness and precision, +despite the extreme difficulty of navigating great +vessels in a place like this. +</p> + +<p> +Both the <i>Bellona</i> and the <i>Russell</i> went aground. +</p> + +<p> +"Yet never," says Clark Russell, "had British +seamanship found finer illustrations of its capacity of +daring and skill than in the manner in which the +vessels of the division calculated their stations, in a +channel bewildering with its complicated and perilous +navigation." +</p> + +<p> +Face to face with the foe at last. +</p> + +<p> +Beam to beam with the Danish ships, and the battle +at once began. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap0308"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER VIII. +<br><br> +A "GLORIOUS DAY'S RENOWN." +</h3> + +<p> +The fight began about ten o'clock, the +thunder of war increasing till twelve, at +which time it probably roared its loudest. +By one o'clock four of the Danish +vessels—block ships they were—had been +silenced. And now occurred one of those +little inter-acts which serve so well to show our +national hero in his true colours. +</p> + +<p> +Sir Hyde Parker, the reader will remember, was +outside the great sand bank, through which Nelson's +division was so successfully steered, so at this distance +no very clear notion of the battle that was raging +could be obtained; but noticing that four of the +enemy's vessels had ceased firing, probably he imagined +that the battle was won, and that further havoc was +unnecessary. At all events he hoisted the signal to +cease firing. A man with one eye can see as much as +a man with two if he is looking. On this occasion +Nelson did not see that signal—when his head was +turned the other way. This is strange, but true! +</p> + +<p> +Tom Bure, who, though commander, was acting as +lieutenant, was standing near to Nelson, and called his +attention to Sir Hyde Parker's signal. +</p> + +<p> +"It is the signal to leave off action, my lord," said +Tom. +</p> + +<p> +Nelson walked up and down his quarterdeck jerking +his "flipper," which showed he was terribly angry +and excited. And that was the reason why he verbally +consigned the good Sir Hyde's signal to a warmer place +than the hottest part of this great battle. +</p> + +<p> +"Besides, Foley," he added, turning to his captain, +"I have only one eye, so have a right to be blind +sometimes." +</p> + +<p> +Then he put his telescope to his eye, and turned it +towards Parker's ship. +</p> + +<p> +"Never a signal do I see," he said. +</p> + +<p> +Foley laughed, for the glass was at the admiral's blind +eye. +</p> + +<p> +"Hang such signals," Nelson cried. "Make mine +for closer action, and nail the colours to the mast." +</p> + +<p> +Fainter and fainter rolled the thunder of the Danes, +till, just before two o'clock, it had ceased all along their +line of battle. +</p> + +<p> +The Danes, however, had fought most bravely, even +those prames on which the flag had been struck had +kept on firing till the last, being constantly reinforced +by fresh batches of men from the shore. +</p> + +<p> +From his previous great exertions, want of sleep and +rest, Nelson was irritable, and this irregular action on +the part of the Danes angered him beyond measure. +He sat down therefore, with, however, no appearance of +hurry, and wrote that famous letter of his to the Crown +Prince of Denmark. It is worth repeating even in a +story, and ran thus: +</p> + +<p> +"Vice-Admiral Lord Nelson has been commanded to +spare Denmark when she no longer resists. The line +of defence which covers her shores has struck to the +British flag; but if the firing is continued on the part +of Denmark he must set on fire all the prizes he has +taken, without having the power of saving the brave +men who have so nobly defended them." +</p> + +<p> +A wafer was suggested to seal this letter withal, but +Nelson must have wax. Want of formality might +have suggested impatience or nervousness to the Crown +Prince. +</p> + +<p> +The half-hour that intervened ere an answer came +was probably felt to be one of the longest ever Nelson +experienced. For his ships, albeit victorious, were in a +terrible plight, and it would take all the seamanship +that even British sailors could boast of to get them +out. +</p> + +<p> +The answer came at last, however, and was all that +could be desired. +</p> + +<p> +Nelson went on shore next day, and was hailed with +cheers by the multitude who came to receive him by +the waterside. The prisoners and wounded were sent +on shore, and the prizes nearly all burned. No less +than thirteen of the Danes' vessels altogether were +destroyed—our losses, though severe, amounting to no +less than 300 killed, and 850 wounded. But the +Danes had at the lowest estimate over 1,700 killed, and +nearly 4,000 taken prisoners. +</p> + +<p> +Tom Campbell, our Scottish poet, author of so many +well-known spirited lays, such as "Ye Mariners of +England," gives us the following poem on this great +naval action: +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + BATTLE OF THE BALTIC.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + I.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "Of Nelson and the North,<br> + Sing the glorious day's renown,<br> + When to battle fierce went forth<br> + All the might of Denmark's Crown,<br> + And her arms along the deep proudly shone;<br> + By each gun a lighted brand,<br> + In a bold, determined hand,<br> + And the Prince of all the land<br> + Led them on.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + II.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "Like leviathans afloat<br> + Lay their bulwarks on the brine,<br> + While the sign of battle flew<br> + On the lofty British line.<br> + It was ten of April morn, by the chime;<br> + As they drifted on their path,<br> + There was silence deep as death,<br> + And the boldest held his breath<br> + For a time.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + III.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "But the might of England flushed<br> + To anticipate the scene;<br> + And her van the fleeter rushed<br> + O'er the deadly space between.<br> + 'Hearts of oak!' our captain cried; when each gun<br> + From its adamantine lips<br> + Spread a death-shade round the ships,<br> + Like the hurricane eclipse<br> + Of the sun.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + IV.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "Again! Again! Again!<br> + And the havoc did not slack,<br> + Till a feeble cheer the Dane<br> + To our cheering sent us back.<br> + Their shots along the deep slowly boom,<br> + Then ceased, and all is wail<br> + As they strike the shattered sail,<br> + Or in conflagration pale<br> + Light the gloom.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + V.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "Out spoke the Victor then<br> + As he hailed them o'er the wave,<br> + 'Ye are brothers, ye are men,<br> + And we conquer but to save:<br> + So peace instead of death let us bring.<br> + But yield, proud foe, thy fleet,<br> + With the crews at England's feet,<br> + And make submission meet<br> + To our King.'<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + VI.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "Then Denmark blessed our Chief<br> + That he gave her wounds repose,<br> + And the sounds of joy and grief<br> + From her people wildly rose<br> + As death withdrew his shadow from the day.<br> + While the sun looked smiling bright<br> + O'er a wide and woful sight,<br> + Where the fires of funeral light<br> + Died away.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + VII.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "Now joy Old England raise!<br> + For the tidings of thy might,<br> + By the festal cities' blaze,<br> + While the wine-cup shines in light.<br> + And yet amidst that joy and uproar,<br> + Let us think of them that sleep,<br> + Full many a fathom deep.<br> + By thy wild and stormy steep<br> + Elsinore!<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + VIII.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "Brave hearts! to Britain's pride<br> + Once so faithful and so true,<br> + On the deck of fame that died,<br> + With the gallant good Riou.<br> + Soft sigh the winds of Heaven o'er their grave,<br> + While the billow mournful rolls,<br> + And the mermaid's song condoles,<br> + Singing glory to the souls<br> + Of the brave!"<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +The death of the "gallant good Riou," whom Britain +so deeply mourned, was both affecting and romantic. +He was captain of the <i>Amazon</i>, and with the rest of +the frigates, that were doing but little apparent good, +hauled off or retreated from the actual ground of +battle on seeing Sir Hyde Parker's "silly signal." These +frigates, however, were being terribly mauled, +yet Riou thought only of the disgrace, as he termed it, +of having to retire. +</p> + +<p> +"What will Nelson think of us?" he said again and +again. +</p> + +<p> +The fire under which the <i>Amazon</i> then lay was very +heavy. The captain himself was wounded in the head, +and leant bleeding against a gun. +</p> + +<p> +Soon after a shot killed his clerk, who stood near; +and another smashed a batch of marines, who were +hauling in the main-brace. +</p> + +<p> +"Boys!" cried Riou, "we can now but die together." +</p> + +<p> +These were the last words e'er he spoke. He fell +dead next moment. "That shot," says Colonel Stewart, +"lost to Britain one of its greatest honours, and to +society a character of singular worth, resembling in no +small measure the heroes of old romance." +</p> + +<p> +Poor Riou! +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * * +</p> + +<p> +That was a wonderful voyage made by our fleet +through the intricate passage between the islands of +Amoy and Saltholm, and full of danger. It astonished +the Northern Powers, who no longer felt themselves +safe from Nelson anywhere. +</p> + +<p> +A mere show of force sufficed to bring the King of +Sweden to his knees. Before, however, this show was +made before Carlscrona, Nelson had an adventure which +is well worthy of being related here, bringing out, as it +does, the hero's character for pluck and derring-do in +the most vivid of colouring. +</p> + +<p> +The ship in which he made the difficult passage +between the two islands just named was the <i>St. George</i>. +For her greater lightness and safety her guns had been +removed into an American vessel, requisitioned or +chartered unceremoniously for the purpose. She got +safely through, but was detained by contrary winds +from joining the rest of the fleet, now far ahead. +When, therefore, intelligence was received that Sir +Hyde Parker had sighted the Swedish fleet, Nelson's +anxiety knew neither bounds nor limits. +</p> + +<p> +Says Mr. Brierly, "The moment he received the +account he ordered a boat to be manned, and without +even waiting for a boat cloak, cold though it was, +jumped into her and ordered me to go with him..... +All I had ever seen or heard of him could not half so +clearly prove to me the singular and unbounded zeal of +this truly great man. His anxiety in the boat for +nearly six hours, lest the fleet should have sailed +before he got on board one of them, and lest we +should not catch the Swedish squadron, is beyond all +conception. +</p> + +<p> +"It was extremely cold, and I wished him to put on +a great coat of mine that was in the boat. +</p> + +<p> +"'No,' he cried, 'I am not cold; my anxiety for my +country will keep me warm. Do you think the fleet +has sailed?' +</p> + +<p> +"'I should suppose not, my lord.' +</p> + +<p> +"'If they have, we shall follow them on to Carlscrona +in the boat.' +</p> + +<p> +"At midnight Nelson, much to his relief, reached his +flagship, the <i>Elephant</i>, and his sailors were overjoyed +to see him; for Nelson was worth a fleet in himself." +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * +</p> + +<p> +The Swedes made peace therefore. +</p> + +<p> +The Russians did not see their way to fight. +</p> + +<p> +And so the great Northern Confederacy was smashed +up, and never formed again, and our brave tars could +still sing +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "Rule Britannia, Britannia rules the waves,<br> + Britons never, never, NEVER shall be slaves."<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +The fleet, having now boldly accomplished its mission, +and proved the truth of Nelson's words, that "guns +are the best negotiators, and always speak to the point," +&c., returned once more to England. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap0309"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER IX. +<br><br> +NELSON'S LAST DAYS AND HOURS. +</h3> + +<p class="poem2"> + "I saw before thy hearse pass on<br> + The comrades of thy peril and renown.<br> + The frequent tear upon their dauntless breasts<br> + Fell.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem2"> + "I beheld the pomp thick gathered round<br> + Through armed ranks—a nation gazing on.<br> + Bright glowed the sun, and not a cloud distained<br> + Heaven's arch of gold; but all was gloom beneath.<br> +</p> + +<p class="poem2"> + "Awe and mute anguish fell<br> + On all. Yet high the public bosom throbbed<br> + With triumph."<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +There is one individual who, although +mention has been made of him, has never +yet appeared on the stage of our story, +namely, Max Colmore, the son of Lady +Colmore, and therefore Bertha's brother. +Tom Bure had seen him only once or +twice. The first time was when Tom—a very little boy +then—was one day floating on the broad in his boat. +Max, who was far older than he, had come to the bank +with his gun on his shoulder, and ordered Tom to haul +off on pain of being shot. Tom had obeyed, and forgiven +his foe too for the sake of Bertha, but never had +he forgotten the insult. +</p> + +<p> +The second meeting was at the Hall after Tom's +return from the Baltic. Our hero was by this time old +enough to study the man and sum up his character, +which he might have done, not only in a few words, +but with three letters—F O P. +</p> + +<p> +Tom wondered to himself how such a surly, haughty +fellow as this, such a blood-proud fool, had been +permitted to assume his Majesty's uniform; for he +was then a captain in the army, and had even seen +service in the wars. +</p> + +<p> +Well, Tom Bure had quite as much aversion to a fop +as his great chief, Nelson had, so he avoided Max as +much as possible. Indeed, they would soon have +quarrelled; for over his wine, of which he took a +grown-up person's share, the captain talked almost +disrespectfully of Nelson and "sailor fellows" in general. +</p> + +<p> +Shockingly bad taste, you say? True, and the man +was really no gentleman at heart. +</p> + +<p> +Tom avoided him, therefore, for Bertha's sake, and +although this was to be his last visit to the Hall for +many and many a long day, he even cut this visit +short. +</p> + +<p> +After he had bidden good-bye to Lady Colmore and +other guests, he simply bowed stiffly to Max, who was +gaping at him through an eye-glass, and took his +departure. +</p> + +<p> +Slowly, through the shrubbery he was walking +towards his boat when he heard a light step behind +him. +</p> + +<p> +He turned quickly. +</p> + +<p> +"Dearest Bertha," he said gently, "I knew you'd +come." +</p> + +<p> +The girl was crying. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, Tom!" she exclaimed, "it seems all so sad and +terrible, your going away like this. And something +seems to say to me I shall never, never see you +more." +</p> + +<p> +"You mustn't talk so, my more than sister," said +Tom. "True I am going away, but I shall return, safe +and sound. I'm not going to be killed, Bertha, and +I'm not going to lose a leg, like poor Merryweather. +So you see I shall be able to dance on your wedding-day." +</p> + +<p> +"Mamma says I am too young to think of the +future, but she means to give me to some lord or +another, and Max doesn't mind. I'm going to be sold, +Tom." +</p> + +<p> +"Bertha!" cried Tom, "sooner than you should be +given away to a man you didn't care for, were he the +proudest noble in Britain, I'd——" +</p> + +<p> +There was the sound of voices heard coming towards +them through the shrubbery, and so Tom's sentence +was never finished. +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * * +</p> + +<p> +Nearly four years had passed away. Busy and +eventful years indeed they had been to both Tom Bure +and to Raventree. +</p> + +<p> +Not once in all that time had either of them seen +home or friends. They had been kept constantly +active, and pretty constantly in action. Tom had +been much with Nelson, not in the same ships, but +on the same service. He had been here and there in +many lands too, for many of his duties had been to +form a convoy to trading ships. +</p> + +<p> +It was his fate, nevertheless, to be present at the +great naval engagement of Trafalgar—a name that is +never heard even to this day by a true Briton without +a feeling of pride and patriotism. +</p> + +<p> +Nelson had been on half-pay for a time. Perhaps +he never expected to serve again. Nevertheless he +came, like the hero he was, to his country's aid at his +country's call. +</p> + +<p> +I need not remind my reader of Napoleon's pet +ambition, the invasion of England—he never could have +reached Scotland—nor of that grand review he held on +his birthday, August 15th, 1804, at Boulogne, +surrounded by his dignitaries of State, his marshals, his +ministers, his sailors and soldiers, or how liberally +he distributed the ribbon of the Legion of Honour. +</p> + +<p> +"Let us be masters of the Channel," he pompously +exclaimed, "for six hours, and we are masters of the +world!" +</p> + +<p> +There was somewhat of honour to us in this sentence +of the Emperor, for in smashing Britain he should +certainly smash the world. +</p> + +<p> +But the death of his chief admiral threw his scheme +in abeyance for a time. Yet having the disposal of +the Spanish fleet, he believed in 1805 that he had +only to crush our squadrons in order to open the +British door, and walk quietly in. +</p> + +<p> +There is sometimes a good deal in that little word +only, however. If you, reader, want to open a door +and walk into a room, even if you are six feet high, and +strong in proportion, as doubtless you are, you will find +that you have attempted a task beyond your strength +if behind that door there is stationed even a very, +tiny man with his foot against it. +</p> + +<p> +Now Britain had just such a little man to stand +behind her door. +</p> + +<p> +The little man was Nelson. +</p> + +<p> +And the little man made a vow that he would put +his foot against the door, and keep Napoleon +Bonaparte on the other side of it. +</p> + +<p> +And the little man did. +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * * +</p> + +<p> +My readers have all heard tell and read of the +marvellous chase by Nelson of the combined fleets +of France and Spain. I may possibly be hauled up +on the quarter-deck for calling it a chase, but really +it was as much so as it was a search. He followed +them all the way to the West Indies; he heard they +were bound for Trinidad. He would have followed +and drubbed them there, but the information was +false, and only meant to mislead him. He would have +followed them round the world, and drubbed them, +just as he followed them back to Europe, and drubbed +them there at last. And such a drubbing he +administered to them! +</p> + +<p> +History has no other such great naval fight as that +of Trafalgar on record. No parallel to it. +</p> + +<p> +I have, however, no intention of describing the +Battle of Trafalgar. To do so would be to insult the +British schoolmaster, and question the knowledge of +the most ordinary British school-board boy—whoever +that may be—who has mastered even an epitome of +our nation's story. +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> +NELSON'S LAST DAYS AND HOURS. +</p> + +<p> +I think that a man who is universally loved must be +good and true at heart. Nelson's was a heart of oak in +one sense of the term, but it was a tender and feeling +heart nevertheless, and he wore it, figuratively speaking, +on his sleeve. His kind and gentle nature could be +read in his eyes, as well as in his every action, private +as well as public. His men loved him, his officers, +more especially his midshipmen, loved him, and the +people loved him. Ah! there is no deceiving or +dissembling before the people. In the matter of affection +and good-heartedness, it is as impossible to deceive the +people as it is to deceive a dog, and that is saying a +deal. +</p> + +<p> +As I sit here writing in my country home, I have +but to place my hand before my eyes, and scene after +scene rises up before my mental vision of Nelson's last +days and hours. +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +SCENE I. It is the night of September 13th, 1805, +and half-past ten of that night, and the hero is leaving +Merton—a home of his in the country. But see, ere +he leaves the house, he goes on tiptoe, fearful lest he +should wake her, to the bedroom where his little girl +Horatia lies sleeping. He gazes long and fondly at her, +he softly kisses her, then kneels beside her bed with +tear-filled eyes upturned to heaven to crave a blessing +on her. I see him kneeling thus and there at this +moment. +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +SCENE II. It is very early on the morning of the +14th. Hardly has the autumn day began to dawn, yet +all around the George Inn, Portsmouth, dense crowds +have gathered to catch but a glimpse of the naval hero +before his embarkation. He had their huzzas many a +time before, but now he has their hearts. They follow +him even to the water's edge, they press forward to catch +a sight of his face; many are in tears, and many kneel +down and bless him as he passes. They love him as +true and fervidly as he loves England. But, alas! they +will never, never see him more. +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +SCENE III. Nelson has joined his fleet off Cadiz. +Though at his express desire no guns are fired, no +colours shown, that the enemy may be kept in +ignorance of the arrival of a reinforcement, the +loving-kindness and joy shown at his arrival cause him "the +sweetest sensation of his life." The officers who come +on board to welcome his return forget even his rank as +commander-in-chief, in the enthusiasm with which +they greet him. He cannot for a time speak for +emotion. But he regains his voice at last, and then +while they crowd around the table he proceeds to +explain to them his previously arranged plans for +attacking the enemy. That, he says, is the "Nelson +touch." They see it all in a moment. It is a touch of +true genius. So new, so singular, so simple. Some of +them are even affected to tears, so much are their +minds relieved by the prospect, nay, the very certainty +of victory now before them. +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +SCENE IV. It is the very eve of battle, and among +his warlike and busy thoughts those of home come +crowding uppermost, and down he must sit all alone in +his cabin to write to his little Horatia. Only a little +letter, but how full of love and affectionate +thoughtfulness. +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +"MY DEAREST ANGEL,—I was made happy by the +pleasure of receiving your letter, and I rejoice to hear +you are so very good a girl. The combined fleets of +the enemy are now reported to be coming out of Cadiz; +and therefore I answer your letter, my dearest +Horatia, to mark to you that you are ever uppermost +in my thoughts. I shall be sure of your +prayers for my safety, conquest, and speedy return +to dear Merton. Be a good girl, mind what Miss +Connor says to you. Receive, my dearest Horatia, the +affectionate parental blessing of your father, +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +"NELSON AND BRONTE." +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +SCENE V. Ah! this scene is one which is almost +too gloriously dreadful to contemplate. But I can see our +noble fleet advancing in two columns to crash through +the enemy's battle line. And now the flashing guns, +and the white wreathing smoke—the tapering masts, +with flags unfurled, towering and swaying high above +the battle clouds. But this scene fades momentarily +from my view, or rather it resolves itself into another +and a sadder. +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +SCENE VI. Nelson and Hardy on the battle-deck, +in the very thick of the dreadful engagement. And, +see, Nelson sinks rather than falls, and his faithful +Hardy springs to his side. On that very spot his +secretary, Scott, was killed some time before, and the +blood, still fresh, stains our hero's clothes. I see him +being borne tenderly below to the cockpit. I see +him—kindly-hearted even in the hour of death—place his +handkerchief over his face that his brave fellows may +not know 'tis he, their own loved admiral, who is being +carried below. +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="capcenter"> +<a id="img-358"></a> +<br> +<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-358.jpg" alt=""The death of Nelson.""> +<br> +"The death of Nelson." +</p> + +<p> +SCENE VII. The cockpit. The dimly-burning lights, +the smoke, the heat, and against the bulkheads the +wounded, the dying, and the dead. The surgeons half +naked, with blood-sprinked faces, arms, and garments; +the "idlers"—all too busy here. Moan and groan and +mournful cry. What a terrible scene! What a fearful +place to die in! +</p> + +<p> +But as the hero is borne down here, even wounded +men forget their own pains and misery as they draw +the chief surgeon's attention to the bearers. +</p> + +<p> +"Doctor, doctor," they cry, "it is the admiral! It is +Lord Nelson himself!" +</p> + +<p> +The dying Hero is borne tenderly into the midshipmen's +berth, and laid upon a bed. Even the surgeon, +who hastens to help him, sees how unavailing all his +efforts must be. The poor admiral can read his doom +written in the surgeon's pitying face. Yet it only +confirms what he himself had thought before. His +days are numbered, his hour is come. He is in pain, +in agony, so much so that he wishes death would +come to relieve him—wishes it were all, all over; and +yet not for a little. Hardy he must see, and it seems +such an interminable time before he can come to him. +"Will no one bring him?" he moans piteously. +"Perhaps he is slain. He is surely dead." +</p> + +<p> +But overhead the battle rages on and on, and he +can hear the wild "hurrahs!" of the men as ship after +ship strikes her flag. +</p> + +<p> +Hardy comes at last and bends mournfully over him, +utterly unable to suppress his emotion. But Hardy +must tell him how the battle goes. Then this faithful +officer, with a heart bursting with emotion, shakes +hands, and rushes once again to his post on deck. +</p> + +<p> +But see! Hardy has returned; and Nelson can talk +now only of the dear ones at home. +</p> + +<p> +"God bless you, Hardy," he says feebly, and shortly +after, "Thank God, <i>I have done my duty!</i>" +</p> + +<p> +And these are the last words the Hero speaks. His +breast heaves, there is one long-drawn, but half-stifled +sigh, and—<i>Nelson is no more</i>. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap0310"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER X. +<br><br> +"JACK, I FEEL THERE IS SOMETHING WANTING IN MY LIFE." +</h3> + +<p class="poem2"> + "Then all is well. In this full tide of love<br> + Wave heralds wave: thy match shall follow mine.<br> + . . . . . . . Meanwhile farewell<br> + Old friends. Old patriarch oaks farewell."—TENNYSON.<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +The character of Captain Max Colmore +is not one of those which commands any +very great amount of respect, and I +should willingly have left it out of my +story. But then if we have no shading +in a picture we cannot so well appreciate +the high lights. Besides, he was Bertha's brother, and +independently of that fact, his death had a bearing on +our "ower true" tale, even if his life had none. +</p> + +<p> +They say that a certain dark gentleman, whose nama +it is best not to mention in polite society, is not so +black as he is painted. Happily the task of acting as +his biographer does not devolve upon me, but the +old saying reminds me that even in the character of a +man like Max there may be something of good to +record. I am willing to let him have the benefit of +this. He was no coward then. There were very few +cowards in the army in those old days, though I fear +it is different now that men of muscle have in competitive +examinations often enough to lower their flags to +those with long memories, puny bodies, and hearts no +bigger than a bantam chick's. +</p> + +<p> +Max Colmore—— +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "ne'er refused<br> + When foeman bade him draw his blade."<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +In fact, he rather liked drawing his blade than +otherwise, whether the man who suggested his doing so +were a foeman or a quondam friend, for Max was a +somewhat famous duellist, and quite as clever with +the pistol as the sword. Faith in his own ability, +however, rendered him somewhat of a blusterer, while +abuse in the matter of potable table luxuries made +him hot-headed, and apt to take offence where no +offence had been meant. Even until this day, although +duelling has gone out of fashion, and is punishable as a +crime, we could understand, and even give some meed +of praise to a man who drew his weapon to defend +the honour of his country, the name of majesty, or +injured innocence. But we view matters from a +different light when we read of a quarrel at mess from +one hasty word or look, leading up to a fight to the +death. +</p> + +<p> +Such was the case one night at a dinner given in +honour of Colonel Stuart's birthday, and to which +nearly a score of as happy young fellows as ever used +knife and fork sat down. The dinner passed by +pleasantly and cheerfully enough too, until even +dessert was finished and the colonel had retired. +Some of the younger bloods reseated themselves at +table, among them Max, among them too a youthful +merchant, at whose house many of the officers had +been most hospitably received and treated. Mr. Drake, +the name of this young merchant, had a young sister +who resided with him, and whom Max Colmore, rosy +now about the gills, and with a strange sparkle in his +eye, proposed as "a toast" in a not over-complimentary +manner. +</p> + +<p> +It was surely only natural that Drake should lose +his temper. +</p> + +<p> +"It is only a coward and a fool," he said, "who +would dare to behave so." +</p> + +<p> +"This to me, Mr. Snip, and from such a fellow as +you, a miserable purveyor of silks and sarcenet. Have +that," cried Max. +</p> + +<p> +The word "that" was accompanied by the contents +of a glass of claret, thrown full in the face of poor +young Mr. Drake. +</p> + +<p> +All rose to their feet, and the insulted gentleman +made a motion as if to throw a decanter at the +blustering Max. +</p> + +<p> +But Lieutenant Moore restrained him. +</p> + +<p> +"Stay, Drake, stay your hand," he exclaimed. "This +is my quarrel. You are my guest. Captain Colmore, +you account to me for this gross insult to a friend of +mine." +</p> + +<p> +"To the pair of you," said Colmore, "if you prefer +it." +</p> + +<p> +"Mr. Snip," he added, "I'll have you first, if you +please." +</p> + +<p> +"So be it," said Drake, very calmly and quietly. +</p> + +<p> +Early next morning, soon after the birds had begun +to sing, and before the dew had left the grass, or the +cicada had given voice, the combatants met with all +due formality in a beautiful green grove, not far from +the chief fort. +</p> + +<p> +Did no thoughts of his far-off home, near the quiet +and peaceful Norfolk broad, or of his mother and +gentle sister, steal across the young man's mind as he +stood, pistol in hand, waiting the word to fire? +Probably none, for he looked half dazed from the +dissipation of the previous evening, and his body was +far from steady. +</p> + +<p> +"At the word 'three' you will fire. One—two—three." +</p> + +<p> +The pistols rang out almost simultaneously on the +still air of morning, and for a second or two it seemed +as if neither belligerent had been hit. Then Max +Colmore's weapon dropped suddenly from his hand, +and he sank in a heap on the ground beside it. +</p> + +<p> +He neither opened his eyes again, nor spoke. +</p> + +<p> +Captain Colmore was dead. +</p> + +<p> +And to all intents and purposes he had died a death +that was fraught with dishonour, for he had owed an +apology, and had refused to pay it. +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * +</p> + +<p> +At the time that Captain Max Colmore met with his +death the great battle of Trafalgar was quite a thing +of the past; indeed, two years had passed away since +that splendid victory, which had cost Britain her +cherished hero, but gained for her the supremacy of +the seas. These years had not been uneventful for +either Tom Bure or Lord Raventree. Both had gained +additional glory and renown at sea, and poor Tom had +gained something else—which in the dashing days of +old frequently accompanied honour and glory—a severe +wound in the left forearm, which would prevent his +serving again for a year at least, if not for ever. +</p> + +<p> +He was brought home an invalid in the end of 1807, +from that marvellous expedition against the Danes, by +which they lost the whole of their large navy, and +had their capital city, Copenhagen, laid in red-hot +ashes. +</p> + +<p> +Tom was not sorry to find himself once more an +inmate of his foster-father's little cottage, near the +peaceful broad, with Ruth and his foster-mother to +wait upon him. +</p> + +<p> +He found but little change in either of the latter; +but Dan was getting old, yet hale and hearty in his +declining years, and it was the greatest delight of his +life when the sweet springtime brought bud and +burgeon to the trees, and the wild flowers to the +marshes, to row the invalid Captain Tom, as he with +some pardonable pride called our hero, out and away +over the broad. +</p> + +<p> +Nor were his friends at the great hall, as Colmore +Manor was invariably called, otherwise than delighted +to see him on their return from the south. +</p> + +<p> +But partly through his being an invalid, and partly, +perhaps, through being a sailor—sailors being, you +know, always shy—Tom was half afraid to address +the tall and willowy girl who now stood before him as +Bertha. +</p> + +<p> +Bertha had grown up very beautiful, and was +likewise very accomplished, as far as accomplishments +went in those days. She could talk more than one +language at all events, and play well on the harp +and spinet. But there were times when the graceful +and accomplished girl had moods of innocent playfulness, +in which she appeared to Tom precisely like the +wilful wee tottie of six or eight she was in the early +days of his acquaintance with her. Strangely enough, +Tom Bure liked her best in these moods, and longed to +catch her in his arms, or rather in his one utility arm, +and give her a kiss; but then his invalid or sailor +shyness, whichever it was, overflowed his breast, and +he didn't or couldn't. +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * * +</p> + +<p> +Those days of war and bloodshed were eventful +enough both by land and sea, and it need surprise no +one to be told that the ship which ought to have +brought the news of Max Colmore's sad death, as trim +a brig as ever sailed the seas when she left Jamaica, was +never heard of any more. Whether she had caught +fire and been burned at sea, foundered during some +terrible gale, or been taken aback and gone down in a +white squall nobody ever knew. But her non-arrival +prevented the account of her son's end from reaching +Lady Colmore for many months after she ought to +have known of it. +</p> + +<p> +When the news did arrive at last, then the crash +came, and her ladyship knew she was no longer +mistress of Colmore Manor, and that its real owner +was some distant relative of her late husband, for +the estate was an entailed one. +</p> + +<p> +Very soon after Lady Colmore did a thing which +proves that her pride—and she had a good deal of it—was +really genuine and heartfelt, that it was indeed part +and parcel of her nature. As soon as the heir, or the +gentleman who was described as such by his solicitors, +put in an appearance she left the county, and went no +soul knew whither. To all seeming she and Bertha +had vanished from off the face of the earth. +</p> + +<p> +Tom, before the crash came, had found himself so +much better, that he determined to travel for a month +or two for the benefit of his health, and wounded arm, +which still remained a most unserviceable limb to +him. +</p> + +<p> +Previous to his going away, his old friend, Jack +Merryweather, became the husband of poor little +innocent Ruth. Jack was indeed a happy soul, and I believe +I am justified in adding he was not the only happy soul +at the quiet wedding in Dan's cottage. +</p> + +<p> +One thing Jack had done before leading his bride to +the altar, was to polish up that wooden leg of his till +it shone like Whitby jet. +</p> + +<p> +It so happened that Captain Lord Raventree was in +the country at that time. There was no word of his +marrying. His sword was his bride, and would be till +the peace came. But he came to Jack Merryweather's +wedding all the same, and it is currently reported that +he had even kissed the bride. If he did it was quite +in accordance with his character. +</p> + +<p> +Then away went Tom and he together in Ashley's +boat, which they chartered for the occasion, for a +coasting cruise up north. +</p> + +<p> +They enjoyed themselves as only sailors and old +messmates can. Tom going so far as to affirm it +was the happiest time ever he had had in all +his life. +</p> + +<p> +Of course these two friends were like brothers, and +had no secrets the one from the other. So Tom had +confessed that he was exceedingly fond of Bertha, and +that he wasn't at all sure Bertha wasn't just as fond of +him. +</p> + +<p> +"Then why don't you go in and win, man?" cried +Raventree. "What would our mutual friend, Nelson, +have thought of any officer hanging fire when there +was something before him that was a duty?" +</p> + +<p> +"A duty, Raventree?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, your duty to posterity, Tom." +</p> + +<p> +"Not that posterity ever did anything for me as +yet," said Tom Bure thoughtfully; "but now that +you've mentioned dear old Nelson, I—I—will go in +and win." +</p> + +<p> +But lo! when Tom returned to the cottage, and his +friend went off to Raventree Court, the first thing he +heard was about the Colmore crash, the second the +disappearance of Lady Colmore and her daughter, and +the third and most wonderful of all, that he, Captain +Tom Bure, R.N., was the nearest heir to the estates of +Colmore, and not the other fellow. +</p> + +<p> +All this news coming of a heap, as old Dan phrased +it, quite took our hero's breath away, and it was some +time before he fully realised his position. +</p> + +<p> +"It was all owing to that black box," said Dan, +"that your poor Uncle Bob took so much pains to save, +and that I took up to the banker at Yarmouth. That +proved it all, and there's none livin' that can disprove +it." +</p> + +<p> +Whether Tom's uppermost thoughts at this moment +were those of joy or sorrow, it is probably hard +to tell. +</p> + +<p> +"Poor Bertha!" he muttered half aloud, "shall I +never, never see her more?" +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * +</p> + +<p> +Long months after Tom Bure was settled in his new +home, he continued by every means he could think of, +his endeavours to find out the whereabouts of Lady +Colmore and Bertha. But all in vain. It was rumoured +that her ladyship had died of a broken heart, or of a +combination of pride and poverty, leaving her daughter +to stem a sea of adversity as best she might. +</p> + +<p> +Tom, in something akin to hopeless sorrow, settled +down to look after his estates in good earnest now. +</p> + +<p> +He fain would have built a new house for his foster-father +Dan on the grounds, so that he might have the +old couple close to him. But Dan would not hear of +leaving his bit o' property, where he and his old wife +had lived so long and happy, and where poor Uncle +Bob had died. +</p> + +<p> +Tom soon found out that recreation was good for +him, or diversion, as Jack Merryweather phrased it, so +he often went to town, and with his friend was +frequently at concerts, fêtes, and plays. +</p> + +<p> +One evening, after a quiet dinner together, Jack +addressed his friend as follows: +</p> + +<p> +"Tom, you appear in doleful dumps to-night. You +have sat opposite me for ten minutes, and never said a +word." +</p> + +<p> +"I'm not over merry at heart, Jack," said Tom. +"The fact is, amidst all this fun and gaiety I feel there +is something wanting in my life." +</p> + +<p> +"And isn't it a fool you are," cried Jack, "to go on +mourning for the partial loss of one hand? Look at +me—one leg only and a timber toe. Do I mourn and +lament?" +</p> + +<p> +Jack held up that wooden extremity of his, which +shone to-night like an ebony ruler. +</p> + +<p> +"Bah! Tom, what's the use of it?" +</p> + +<p> +And Merryweather burst into the old song— +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "Life let us cherish<br> + While the wasting taper glows."<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +"Come along with me, Tom. There's something +good going on to-night at the old Drury." +</p> + +<p> +Tom Bure yawned through three acts of a somewhat +dreary play. +</p> + +<p> +As shifting of scenery necessitated a longer interval +than usual between the third and fourth acts, a +beautiful girl came on to sing a charming Irish song. +It was, the play-bill said, her first appearance on any +stage. +</p> + +<p> +At the first sound of her voice Tom pricked up his +ears. +</p> + +<p> +At the first glance he started as if he had been shot +again. +</p> + +<p> +Then he disappeared—went tearing out of the box, +as Jack afterwards described it. He tore down below, +and almost fought his way behind the scenes. +</p> + +<p> +He was just in time to meet the young lady walking +off the stage with a whole lap-full of bouquets. +</p> + +<p> +"Bertha!" +</p> + +<p> +It was Tom's voice. +</p> + +<p> +And as he went awkwardly rushing forwards, somehow +or other she dropped everyone of those bouquets +on the deck of the stage—I think they call it the +deck. If they don't they ought to. +</p> + +<p> +Never mind, I have this to add: Bertha's first +appearance on any stage was likewise her last. +</p> + +<p> +And just as Bertha dropped those bouquets am I +now going to drop anchor, and almost quite as suddenly. +I do not wish that a good boy's story should degenerate +into an ordinary love yarn, else I should devote a dozen +pages to telling you how it came about that two months +after this our hero, Tom Bure, was married to the +orphan girl, Bertha Colmore, in presence of Jack +Merryweather, Lord Raventree, and honest Dan himself. +</p> + +<p> +And just as the happy couple were standing on the +deck of the saucy <i>Yarmouth Belle</i>—same old skipper, +same old mate—that was to bear them from London to +the North, "I say, Tom," said the same old +Merryweather, "I misunderstood you that evening after +dinner." +</p> + +<p> +"Never mind," said Tom, "I have at last found the +something that was wanting in my life. Good-bye." +</p> + +<p> +"Mate!" roared the skipper. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," cried the mate. +</p> + +<p> +"On this auspicious occasion, mate——" +</p> + +<p> +"Let us——" said the mate. +</p> + +<p> +"That's it. <i>Let us splice the main-brace</i>." +</p> + +<p> +"Hurrah!" +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> +FINIS. +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="t4"> + LONDON:<br> + JOHN F. SHAW AND CO., 48, PATERNOSTER ROW, E.C.<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="transnote"> +[Transcriber's Note: Near the start of Chapter IV +is the footnote "Vide Map". There was no map +in the source book.] +</p> + +<p><br><br><br><br></p> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75979 ***</div> +</body> + +</html> + + diff --git a/75979-h/images/img-022.jpg b/75979-h/images/img-022.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2bd3e31 --- /dev/null +++ b/75979-h/images/img-022.jpg diff --git a/75979-h/images/img-076.jpg b/75979-h/images/img-076.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c0fe123 --- /dev/null +++ b/75979-h/images/img-076.jpg diff --git a/75979-h/images/img-134.jpg b/75979-h/images/img-134.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..fdaebc2 --- /dev/null +++ b/75979-h/images/img-134.jpg diff --git a/75979-h/images/img-212.jpg b/75979-h/images/img-212.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4dd62b6 --- /dev/null +++ b/75979-h/images/img-212.jpg diff --git a/75979-h/images/img-270.jpg b/75979-h/images/img-270.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1b1b690 --- /dev/null +++ b/75979-h/images/img-270.jpg diff --git a/75979-h/images/img-309.jpg b/75979-h/images/img-309.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3e3ad79 --- /dev/null +++ b/75979-h/images/img-309.jpg diff --git a/75979-h/images/img-320.jpg b/75979-h/images/img-320.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..69940d1 --- /dev/null +++ b/75979-h/images/img-320.jpg diff --git a/75979-h/images/img-358.jpg b/75979-h/images/img-358.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ce54870 --- /dev/null +++ b/75979-h/images/img-358.jpg diff --git a/75979-h/images/img-cover.jpg b/75979-h/images/img-cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3e0bed5 --- /dev/null +++ b/75979-h/images/img-cover.jpg diff --git a/75979-h/images/img-front.jpg b/75979-h/images/img-front.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6d8caa9 --- /dev/null +++ b/75979-h/images/img-front.jpg diff --git a/75979-h/images/img-title.jpg b/75979-h/images/img-title.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..543a7d2 --- /dev/null +++ b/75979-h/images/img-title.jpg |
