Every Man Will Do His Duty (39 page)

The surgeon, having dressed all the wounded, repaired to me again. I was taken down to my cabin, which I found in a wretched condition. My steward had not removed a single article from the table on which my dinner had been laid. Most of them had been smashed to atoms. I had not returned to my cabin from the moment I left it to direct the motions of the
Childers,
about 4 o’clock in the afternoon. It was afloat, and the prospect was anything but agreeable. The Surgeon found my left leg most severely contused. The right one was cut open from the knee, down the bone to the ankle, by a splinter. Had it penetrated the thickness of a wafer deeper, the bone would have been broken to pieces. My left wrist was bleeding freely and the arm below the shoulder in acute pain. Whilst he was dressing me, the first lieutenant came to report that one of the pumps was choked and the brig sinking. “Well,” said I, “if that is the case I cannot help you. We must all go down together. Give me your hand, and God bless you. I have done my duty and am resigned to my fate.” Whether the cool and determined manner in which I delivered these words had any effect upon the lieutenant, I know not. But he hastened on deck and in the course of a
quarter of an hour returned to acquaint me that the pump had been set to rights and that there was a chance of saving the
Childers.
At that moment the water in my cabin was about six inches deep, and as clear as the sea without. The surgeon quitted me, and I attempted to get some sleep.

After a few hours the surgeon renewed his visit, and reported favourably. He expected from the severity of the contusions that an inflammation would ensue. Fortunately for me that was not the case, but he entreated me to remain quiet. The report of the injuries we had received in the action was now laid before me. Both the lower masts were struck by shot, also the bowsprit. The rigging and sails were very much cut, and several shots had struck the hull. However, by the afternoon of the 15th the damages were repaired, and the shot holes under water stopped, so that we were able to shape a course for Leith Roads. The action had lasted, with intervals, upwards of seven hours against an enemy of vastly superior force. Twenty guns were counted plainly on his deck—that is, twenty on the sides and two in the stern. When I reflected upon the conduct of the enemy, he appeared, during the whole proceeding, to have been deficient in energy, as I always attacked him. He had the advantage of the weather gage, and might at his convenience have closed upon me. But instead of doing so he allowed me to bring him to action, waiting very quietly the result. Had he, when I attempted to cross his bow from the leeward, borne down upon me, the consequences might have been most fatal to the
Childers.
I have often thought of it. His vessel, being of considerably more burden than mine, when coming in contact would probably have overpowered her, and she would have gone down. After I had poured my last broadside into him, he never altered his course, but permitted me to close with the prize and make all my arrangements without annoyance. Consequently, I beat off an enemy after a very severe contest of long duration, and bore away in triumph the vessel which he evidently intended to recapture.

In the afternoon I directed the galliot to be taken in tow. She was called the
Christina,
and had only a part of her cargo in—45 casks of fish, some iron and other materials. She did not sail well: she was accordingly taken under our stern. The damages inflicted upon my property were very serious. Three trunks containing my wearing apparel were shot through; my writing case—a very handsome one—shattered to pieces. A small pocket book containing £25 in bank notes was never recovered, but my purse with 11 guineas in it was brought to me, as well a diamond pin. Altogether my losses by the engagement could not easily be replaced. The next day I was carried on deck to breathe some fresh air. As we were proceeding towards the coast of Scotland, we passed the convoy which I had taken charge of at Leith but afterwards delivered over to the
Snake.
We exchanged the private
signal with that ship. Her captain would not be liable to any annoyance from the Dane that I had engaged.

On the 18th we anchored in Leith Roads. I had dictated to the purser my official report of the action as I was in too much pain to write. When he had completed it, I sent for the officers that they might hear the statement of our proceedings. They appeared not satisfied with it, saying that I had not done myself justice, as the action was one of the hardest fought of the war, the odds being immense and that I had not sufficiently explained the enemy’s vast superiority. The officers and crew repeated over and over again that the late captain never would have done anything of the kind. He would not have gone so close inshore. My only reply was that I preferred underrating the action to making a boasting report. The truth would soon be known and our exertions would be appreciated accordingly.

Not long after the
Childers
had anchored, in the forenoon, I was carried on shore and took up my quarters at the Britannia Inn on the pier of Leith, on the second floor, that I might be out of the way of all interruption. On my leaving the
Childers,
the crew gave me three hearty cheers.

My principal anxiety, now, was to learn what light my action would be viewed in by the Admiralty. The next was to recover the use of my limbs. I could not walk without crutches and my left arm was nearly useless. The following day the admiral called to see me. As I was in acute pain, he did not stay long, merely asking a few questions as to the state of the weather and the number of hours the action lasted. He then withdrew. So soon as the public became acquainted with the particulars of this engagement, all sorts of reports were in circulation—among others that the vessel I had fought was not a man of war but a privateer. Many officers of the Navy called. One in particular passed some very appropriate compliments upon my exertions, assuring me that I should receive promotion. “You command,” said he, “the very worst craft in the Navy, and you have fought a vessel of vastly superior force, bringing away a prize. You are entitled to reward, and I am sure the Admiralty will place that construction upon your conduct. Promotion will be the result.” I differed with him on that part relating to my advancement, as I had not captured the enemy, and told him so. “Well,” he replied, “recollect what I tell you. You have performed wonders under the circumstances, and you will be noticed accordingly.”

The reports to which I here allude no doubt made some impression upon Ad. Vashon as in two or three days he called again, and appeared in very ill temper. He overloaded me with questions and found fault with my report of the injury done to the rigging: in short, seemed inclined not to believe any of my statements, and refused to approve of my demand for the proper quantities of rope to replace those which had been shot away,
unless I altered it. This was one of the most unpleasant official interviews I ever had in my life. I submitted patiently to all he said. I was in pain, suffering from the wounds, and therefore allowed him, without making any replies, to settle the fate of the
Childers
as he thought proper. Among other questions, he demanded in peremptory tones, “How do you know that your enemy had long 18 lbers.? The prize you have taken is not worth two pence.” I told him that I saw, and very nearly touched, the guns, that the shot on board weighed 22 lbs. English, and that I would send him one. After he took his leave, I directed that one of them should be sent to his house.

On the 24th, in the morning, the surgeon had dressed my wounded limbs, it being about eight in the morning. He retired, and I set to with my razors. In the course of five minutes he returned. “What has brought you back again, Doctor?” I demanded. “I merely called to inquire whether you had received your letters from London,” said he. “Not yet,” was my answer. He kept pacing the room behind my chair, which made me look round, and I noticed an expression on his countenance that gave rise to an opinion of something having happened. “Will you have the goodness, Capt. Dillon,” said he, “to lay your razor down?” I did so. He instantly caught hold of my right hand with considerable energy, saying,

“I
wish you joy, sir. You are a post captain!”

Captain Sir William Henry Dillon (1779–1857) went on to serve at Walcheren, off Spain, and in the East Indies. He was knighted in 1835. In 1846, some thirty-eight years after he fought the
Lügum
, he became Rear-Admiral of the Blue, and, in 1853, Rear-Admiral of the Red. The miserable brig Childers, which had been built in 1778, was finally broken up in 1811.

Now we move forward to action in the Bay of Biscay, where Dillon’s benefactor, Admiral Lord Gambier, commanded the Channel fleet blockading France. With the intention of uniting his Brest squadron with a squadron at Rochefort and then sailing for the West Indies, French Rear-Admiral Willaumez took advantage of a westerly gale that blew Gambier off his station to slip out of Brest with eight ships of the line. In late February, 1809, Willaumez dodged Stopford’s squadron to enter the Basque Roads, and was subsequently bottled up there. Willaumez was superceded by Admiral Allemand, setting the stage for the Battle in the Aix Roads.

William Richardson’s personal account picks up in October of 1808, as his ship is about to join the Channel fleet.

¹
John Wesley Wright of the brig-sloop
Vincejo
was captured May 8, 1804, and imprisoned in the Temple at Verdun where he committed suicide on October 28, 1805.

²
One of four midshipmen who were fellows of Dillon’s at Verdun, Temple broke parole and left behind a debt of £4,000.

³
Sir Rupert George, Bart., Capt. 29/11/81.One of the few officers on the “Superannuated and Retired” List.

⁴
Explanation of original editor.

⁵
This is W.H.D.’s first meeting with the man who was destined to be, perhaps, the worst enemy he ever made.

⁶
The great agriculturalist, whose writings raised agriculture to the status of a science: appointed, 1793, Secretary of the new Board of Agriculture.

⁷
William Mervyn Dillon.

⁸
Laytown, near Drogheda.

⁹
Capt. James Bowen.

¹⁰
A possible, and more charitable, explanation is that they were still regarding him, officially, as being in a category all by himself—an “illegally detained” person, and not a prisoner of war at all.

¹¹
During my sojourn at Lady Hamilton’s, I could not help noticing her affectionate attentions shown to Horatia, then about seven years old. She had been adopted by Lord Nelson, her maiden name supposed to be Thompson. Her real mother, I was told, would never be known. “That may be,” was my reply “But as far as I can judge from what I have witnessed, her real mother is Lady Hamilton. Her whole proceedings towards the child are those of a mother, and no mistake.” My judgment in the end proved correct.
¹²

¹²
The ink in which this last sentence is written is that used, throughout, in the latest corrections. The rest of the note is in the same ink as the ordinary text of the Narrative.

¹³
(Sir) Robert Moorsom, Capt. 22/11/90; R-Ad.31/7/1810; V-Ad.4/6/14; Ad. 22/7/30. C.-in-C. Chatham, 1824–27. Died, April 1835.

¹⁴
Thomas Innes, Cdr. 26/12/99; Capt. 21/10/1810.

¹⁵
Thomas Edmonds, Lt. 28/4/1807; Ret. Cdr. 17/1/1843.

¹⁶
John Baker, Cdr. 29/4/1802; Capt. 21/10/10. Died, March 1845.

¹⁷
The Kangaroo, 18.

¹⁸
Henry Evelyn Pitfield Sturt, commanding the Skylark, 16. Cdr. 29/4/1802; Capt. 21/10/10.

¹⁹
Charles Parker, Lt. 17/9/1816.

²⁰
M’Nicholl.

²¹
James Vashon, Capt. 12/4/82; R-Ad.23/4/1804; V-Ad.28/4/08; Ad. 4/6/14.

²²
George Andrews, Cdr. 29/4/1802; Capt. 22/9/09; commanding the
Ringdove,
18.

²³
Thomas Folliott Baugh, Cdr. 29/4/1802; Capt. 21/10/10; R-Ad. (Ret.) 1/10/46; commanding the
Clio,
18.

²⁴
George Sanders. Now commanding the
Bellette,
18.

²⁵
(Sir) George Johnstone Hope, Cdr. 22/11/90; Capt. 13/9/93; R-Ad. 1/8/1811. Died, 1818.

²⁶
Thomas Ladd Peake, Lt. 8/5/1805; Cdr. 8/5/12; Capt. 1/3/22.

²⁷
James Giles Vashon, Capt. 28/5/1802.

²⁸
William Wilson (Acting).Confirmed, 3/7/1813.

²⁹
A. W. H. Le Neve, 1st Warrant, 29/4/07.

³⁰
W.H.D. mentions their names—Drummond and Gordon—in his dispatch and praises their conduct!

³¹
It was the 20-gun brig
Lügum,
hailing from the Kingdom of Denmark and Norway.

³²
Mason (Acting).

³³
Killed,
Mr. Joseph Roberts, captain’s clerk; Wm. James, boatswain’s mate.
Wounded,
W. H. Dillon, Esq., commander, severely in both legs and left arm; boatswain, slightly; Mr. Batterst, midshipman; Mr, Parker, Volunteer; Allender, corporal of marines; J. Halding, seaman; D. Burke, ditto; J. Constable, Marine; J. Marshall, boy,

³⁴
Henry Allen, 1st Warrant, 1807.

T
HIS PASSAGE CONTINUES THE
story of William Richardson, who was impressed into the Royal Navy while in Calcutta in 1793. In the ensuing years, Richardson has become a most useful naval hand. In 1805 he was appointed gunner of the Caesar, soon to be commanded by the fighting Admiral Sir Richard “Mad Dick” Strachan, under whom Richardson had plenty of opportunities to exercise his guns. Strachan left the ship, however, just before this passage picks up. Here Richardson details the events leading up to the action at Basque Roads, one of the Royal Navy’s more colorful and dramatic actions. At this point, although Richardson doesn’t comment on it, Admiral Gambler, commander in chief of the Channel fleet, is unpopular with his men for being a “blue lights” admiral, much given to preachiness and less so to drawing French blood.