CHAPTER NINE.
Some time had passed since the "Grecian" had entered the Mediterranean.We had not been idle during the time--now cruising along the coast ofSpain and France, now down that of Italy, now away to Malta, sometimesoff to the East among the Greek Islands. We had taken a good manyprizes; indeed, I may say that all our expeditions had been planned withjudgment, and carried out with vigour. I had a very happy time onboard, for the men treated me with kindness, and I was so young thateven the officers took notice of me. To Mr Bramston, especially, Ibecame much attached. As he had known me in my childhood, he took morenotice of me than anyone else. It has been my lot through life to losemany kind friends, but I must acknowledge that they have been as oftenreplaced by others. When Mr Schank heard from home, he never failed tosend for me or my mother, to give us an account of the Little Lady;indeed, Mr Bramston and others, as well as our Captain, took a warminterest in her, and always seemed glad to hear that she was going onwell. Altogether, we were looked upon as a very happy and fortunateship. However, a dark reverse was to come.
We were returning from Malta, and had run some way along the coast ofItaly, when the look-out from the mast-head discovered a sail on thelee-bow. It was just daybreak. The sun rising over the distant land,which lay like a blue line on our starboard side, shed his beams on theupper sails of the stranger. The frigate was kept away a little, andall sail made in chase. We continued standing on for a couple of hours,when the wind drew more aft, and with studden-sails rigged on both sideswe glided rapidly over the smooth water, gaining considerably on thechase. She must have discovered us, for she was now seen to rig outstudden-sails, and to make every attempt to escape. She was pronouncedto be a large polacca ship; and from the way she kept ahead of us, itwas very evident she was very fast. This made us more eager than everto come up with her. The general opinion was that she was amerchantman, very likely richly-laden, and would undoubtedly become aneasy prize. Our people were in high spirits, making sure that they wereabout to add a good sum to their already fair amount of prize-money. Icannot say that these thoughts added much to my pleasure, consideringthe very small share which would fall to my lot, but my father wouldprobably be very much the richer. In those days, it was no uncommonthing for a seaman to return from a cruise with a couple of hundredpounds in his pocket; and of course, under those circumstances, theshare even of a warrant officer would be very considerable. Mr Schank,I doubt not, was thinking of the many comforts he would be able toafford his family at home; and Mr Bramston, who had another reason forwishing to add to his worldly store, was hoping that he might be able tosplice his dear Mary all the sooner, and leave her better provided forwhen he had to come away again to sea.
Hour after hour passed by. There was the chase still ahead and thoughwe had gained considerably on her, still there were many probabilitiesof her escaping. The fear was that we might not get up to her beforenightfall, and that then in the darkness she might escape. The men werepiped to dinner, and of course the conversation at the mess-tables ranon the probabilities of our capturing the chase.
Some time afterwards, just as the watch on deck had been relieved, themain topsail gave a loud flap against the mast. The other sails, whichhad before been swelling out, now hung down.
"The wind is all up and down the masts," I heard my father remark, witha sigh; and going on deck, such we found indeed to be the case.Scarcely a cat's-paw played over the surface of the water, while ourcanvas hung down entirely emptied of wind. It was a time when CaptainCobb would have almost cracked his cheeks with blowing for the purposeof regaining it. Captain Oliver, however, did no such thing, but,taking his glass, directed it towards the chase.
"She is in our condition," he observed to Mr Schank.
"She is not likely to get away from us, at all events," remarked theFirst-Lieutenant, taking a look at her also.
"I think, Schank; we may, however, make sure of her with the boats,"observed the Captain. "It will not do to give her a chance of escaping,and she may get the breeze before we do."
"Certainly, sir," answered Mr Schank. "It will be as well to secureher, for fear of that."
"Well, as there is no great glory to be gained, I will let Mr Mason andBramston go in the boats," said the Captain.
The frigate's boats were accordingly called away. The two lieutenantsand my father and a couple of midshipmen went in them, with altogetherabout seventy men. It was a strong force, but the ship was very likelyto have sweeps, and even a merchantman might offer some resistanceunless attacked by overpowering numbers. The people cheered as theypulled off, and urged them to make haste with the prize. Never did anexpedition start with fairer prospects of success, and we fully hoped,before many hours were over, to have the chase under English colours.She was between four and five miles away at the time; but though thepull was a long one, the men laid their backs to the oars for fear of abreeze springing up before they could get alongside. My mother hadshown considerable anxiety on former occasions when my father had goneaway on dangerous expeditions, yet, in the present instance, she seemedquite at ease, as there appeared to be no danger or difficulty in theenterprise. Though no man ever loved his wife better than my father didmy mother, yet this never prevented him volunteering whenever he felthimself called upon to do so, however hazardous and trying the work inhand. As may be supposed, no one thought of turning in that night. Allhands were on the watch, expecting to see the ship towed by the boats,or some of the boats returning with an account of their capture. TheCaptain and First-Lieutenant walked the deck with easy paces, every nowand then turning their night glasses in the direction of the ship,hoping to see her, but still she did not appear. At length the menbegan to wonder why the ship had not come in sight, or why the boats didnot return to give notice of what had occurred. Afterwards they grewmore and more anxious, and they imparted their anxiety to my mother.Our gunner, Mr Hockey, who was somewhat superstitious, now declaredthat he had dreamed a dream which foreboded disaster. The substance ofit I never could learn, nor did he say a word about the matter till sometime had passed and the boats did not appear. He was a man of proverbs,and remarked that "a pitcher which goes often to the well gets broken atlast," by which he insinuated that as we had been hitherto successful inour expeditions, a reverse might be expected. All the boats had beensent away. The Captain's gig was under repair, but there was a smalldinghy remaining. Mr Hockey went aft, and volunteered to pull in thedirection the ship had been seen, in the hopes of ascertaining what hadbecome of the boats. The Captain was as anxious apparently as he was.
"Certainly, Mr Hockey," he answered.
Just then the sound of oars in the distance floated over the calm water.
"Stay, there are the boats," he said.
They approached very slowly. At first it was hoped that they might betowing the ship; but though they were evidently drawing near, no shipcould be distinguished. At length they came in sight. The Captainhailed them. The voice of a young midshipman answered: "Sad news, sir!Sad news!"
"What has happened, Mr Hassel? Where is the ship?"
"Beaten back, sir, beaten back!" was the answer, and the speaker's voicewas almost choked. The boats, as they got alongside, were seen to befull of people, but they were lying about over the thwarts in confusedheaps, those only who were at the oars appearing to move. My mother wasat this moment fortunately below. The gunner came down and entreatedher to remain there. I, however, had gone up on deck, and was eagerlylooking about, expecting to see my father arrive. Mr Hassel was thefirst to come up the side. He staggered aft to the Captain to make hisreport. Meantime whips were rove, and, one after one, those who thatafternoon had left the frigate in high health and spirits were hoistedup dead and mangled in every variety of way. Nearly thirty bodies werethus brought on deck. Many others were hoisted up and carriedimmediately below, where the surgeon attended them, and of the wholenumber only seven were able to walk the deck steadily. I eagerly lookedout for my father.
He was not among those unhurt. Among the dead Idared not look. I hurried below, hoping to see him under the hands ofthe surgeon, but neither was he there. My heart sank within me. Ihastened to the main-deck. There, with a lantern, I met my poor motherfrantically scanning the faces of the slain, who were laid out in aghastly row. Eagerly she passed along, bending over the pallid featuresof those who a few hours before had been so full of life and courage,jokes escaping their lips. Now as she looked at one, now at another, aglance told her that the corpse was not that of her husband.
"Oh! Mother! Mother! Where is father?" I cried out at length, as Icaught sight of her.
"I know not, my boy, I know not," she answered. "Oh! Burton, Burton!Where are you? Has no one seen my husband? Can anyone tell me of myhusband? Where is he? Where is he?" she frantically exclaimed, runningfrom one to the other, when she found that he was not among thosebrought on board.
"The boatswain!" said some one. "Bless her poor heart, I don't like toutter it, but I saw him knocked overboard as he was climbing up thepolacca's side. He would not have let go had it not been for a thrustin his shoulder, and he was hit, I know, while he was still in theboat."
"Who is that you speak of?" asked my mother, hearing the man's voice.
"Bless your heart, Mrs Burton, but I am sorry to say it," answered BillHouston, one of the few who had escaped unhurt. "I was close to him,but he fell by me before I could stretch out a hand to help him, and Idoubt, even if we had got him on board, it would have been much thebetter for him, he seemed so badly hurt. I did not hear him cry out orutter a sound."
The lantern my mother had been holding dropped from her hand as sheheard these words. All hope was gone. "Oh I give me back my husband Igive me back my husband!" she shrieked out. "Why did you come awaywithout him?"
"Oh! Mother! Mother! Don't take on so!" I exclaimed, running up toher. She put her hands on my shoulders and gazed in my face.
"For you, Ben, I would wish to live, otherwise I would rather be down inthe cold sea along with him." Then again she cried out frantically formy poor father. Her grief increased mine. Seeing the state she was in,Bill King, who had remained near her, hurried down to fetch his wife,who was attending on the wounded. She did her best to soothe my poormother's grief, and not without difficulty she was led away to myfather's cabin; and there, placed on his bed, she found some relief intears. I did my best to comfort her, but I could do little else thanweep too. Perhaps that was the best thing I could do; there is nothinglike sympathy.
"Oh! My boy! My boy!" she exclaimed, "you are still left to me; butthe day may come when you will be taken away, as your poor father hasbeen, and I shall be all alone--alone! Alone!"
Then she burst forth in an Irish wail such as I had never heard before.It was curious; because, though an Irish woman, her accent, underordinary circumstances, was but slightly to be detected. Mrs King,having done all she could, returned to her duties among the wounded, ofwhom there were upwards of thirty, several of them mortally.
From Bill Houston, who had come to inquire for my mother, shortlyafterwards, I learned the particulars of what had occurred. The boatsapproached the ship, all hands being fully persuaded that they hadlittle more to do than to climb up her sides and take possession. As,however, they drew near her, and were just about to dash alongside, atremendous fire of grape, musketry, and round-shot was opened on themfrom her ports, which were suddenly unmasked. In spite of this,although numbers were hit, Mr Mason ordered them to board the ship.Scarcely had he uttered the words than a shot laid him low, poor MrBramston being wounded at the same time. Still the attempt to board wasmade, but as they climbed up the sides they found that boarding nettingswere triced up the whole length of the ship, while pikes were thrustdown on them, and a hot fire of musketry opened in their faces. Againand again they attempted to get on board, and not till nearly all werekilled or wounded did they desist from the attempt. Young Mr Hassel,the midshipman, being the only officer left alive, then gave the orderto retreat, though it was not without difficulty that they could pushoff from the ship's sides. The darkness of the night saved them frombeing utterly destroyed. The enemy, probably, had not been aware of thetremendous effect of their own fire, and expected another attack fromour men, or they would undoubtedly have continued firing at the boatsafter they had shoved off. Some distance had been gained, however,before the ship again commenced firing, and the aim being uncertain,very few of her shot took effect.
The next day was the saddest I had ever known. Our kind young Captainfelt the loss more than anyone. Really, it seemed as if his heart wouldbreak as he walked along the main-deck, where our dead shipmates werelaid out. He paid a visit also to my mother, and endeavoured to comforther as well as he could.
"I owe your brave husband much, Mrs Burton," he said. "We have beenshipmates a good many years altogether, and he more than once saved mylife; I cannot repay him, but I can be a friend to your boy, and I willdo my utmost to be of assistance to you. I cannot heal your grief, andI cannot tell you not to mourn for your husband, but I will soothe it asfar as I can."
Then came the sad funeral. Had the frigate been engaged in a desperateaction with a superior force we could scarcely have lost so many men aswe had done in this unfortunate expedition. I thought the Captain wouldbreak down altogether as he attempted to read the funeral service. Twoor three times he had to stop, and by a great effort recover hiscomposure. There were the two lieutenants and a young midshipman, andupwards of twenty men all to be committed to the ocean together.Curiosity brought me up to see what was going forward, and though Ilooked on quietly for some time I at length burst into bitter tears. Ithought there is my poor father--he had to go overboard without anyservice being read over him.
Ben Burton: Born and Bred at Sea Page 9
