The Two Admirals (57 page)

Bunting got his orders, notwithstanding the jokes of the fleet; and the
necessary signals were made and the answers given. Captain Greenly then
received his verbal instructions, when the commander-in-chief went
below, to prepare himself for the approaching scene. When Sir Gervaise
re-appeared on the poop, he was in full uniform, wearing the star of the
Bath, as was usual with him on all solemn official occasions. Atwood and
Bunting were at his side, while the Bowlderos, in their rich
shore-liveries, formed a group at hand. Captain Greenly and his first
lieutenant joined the party as soon as their duty with the ship was
over. On the opposite side of the poop, the whole of the marines off
guard were drawn up in triple lines, with their officers at their head.
The ship herself had hauled up her main-sail, hauled down all her
stay-sails, and lay with her main-top-sail braced sharp aback, with
orders to the quarter-master to keep her little off the wind; the object
being to leave a little way through the water, in order to prolong the
expected interviews. With these preparations the commander-in-chief
awaited the successive approach of his ships, the sun, for the first
time in twenty-four hours, making his appearance in a flood of brilliant
summer-light, as if purposely to grace the ceremony.

The first ship that drew near the Plantagenet was the Carnatic, as a
matter of course, she being the next in the line. This vessel,
remarkable, as the commander-in-chief had observed, for never being out
of the way, was not long in closing, though as she luffed up on the
admiral's weather-quarter, to pass to windward, she let go all her
top-sail bowlines, so as to deaden her way, making a sort of half-board.
This simple evolution, as she righted her helm, brought her about fifty
yards to windward of the Plantagenet, past which ship she surged slowly
but steadily, the weather now permitting a conversation to be held at
that distance, and by means of trumpets, with little or no effort of the
voice.

Most of the officers of the Carnatic were on her poop, as she came
sweeping up heavily, casting her shadow on the Plantagenet's decks.
Captain Parker himself was standing near the ridge-ropes, his head
uncovered, and the grey hairs floating in the breeze. The countenance of
this simple-minded veteran was a little anxious, for, had he feared the
enemy a tenth part as much as he stood in awe of his commanding officer,
he would have been totally unfit for his station. Now he glanced upward
at his sails, to see that all was right; then, as he drew nearer, fathom
by fathom as it might be, he anxiously endeavoured to read the
expression of the vice-admiral's face.

"How do you do, Captain Parker?" commenced Sir Gervaise, with true
trumpet formality, making the customary salutation.

"How is Sir Gervaise Oakes to-day? I hope untouched in the late affair
with the enemy?"

"Quite well, I thank you, sir. Has the Carnatic received any serious
injury in the battle?"

"None to mention, Sir Gervaise. A rough scrape of the foremast; but not
enough to alarm us, now the weather has moderated; a little rigging cut,
and a couple of raps in the hull."

"Have your people suffered, sir?"

"Two killed and seven wounded, Sir Gervaise. Good lads, most of 'em; but
enough like 'em remain."

"I understand, then, Captain Parker, that you report the Carnatic fit
for any service?"

"As much so as my poor abilities enable me to make her, Sir Gervaise
Oakes," answered the other, a little alarmed at the formality and
precision of the question. "Meet her with the helm—meet her with the
helm."

All this passed while the Carnatic was making her half-board, and, the
helm being righted, she now slowly and majestically fell off with her
broadside to the admiral, gathering way as her canvass began to draw
again. At this instant, when the yard-arms of the two ships were about a
hundred feet asunder, and just as the Carnatic drew up fairly abeam, Sir
Gervaise Oakes raised his hat, stepped quickly to the side of the poop,
waved his hand for silence, and spoke with a distinctness that rendered
his words audible to all in both vessels.

"Captain Parker," he said, "I wish, publicly, to thank you for your
noble conduct this day. I have always said a surer support could never
follow a commander-in-chief into battle; you have more than proved my
opinion to be true. I wish, publicly, to thank you, sir."

"Sir Gervaise—I cannot express—God bless you, Sir Gervaise!"

"I have but one fault to find with you, sir, and that is easily
pardoned."

"I'm sure I hope so, sir."

"You handled your ship so rapidly and so surely, that
we
had hardly
time to get out of the way of your guns!"

Old Parker could not now have answered had his life depended on it; but
he bowed, and dashed a hand across his eyes. There was but a moment to
say any more.

"If His Majesty's sword be not laid on
your
shoulder for this day's
work, sir, it shall be no fault of mine," added Sir Gervaise, waving his
hat in adieu.

While this dialogue lasted, so profound was the stillness in the two
ships, that the wash of the water under the bows of the Carnatic, was
the only sound to interfere with Sir Gervaise's clarion voice; but the
instant he ceased to speak, the crews of both vessels rose as one man,
and cheered. The officers joined heartily, and to complete the
compliment, the commander-in-chief ordered his own marines to present
arms to the passing vessel. Then it was that, every sail drawing, again
the Carnatic took a sudden start, and shot nearly her length ahead, on
the summit of a sea. In half a minute more, she was ahead of the
Plantagenet's flying-jib-boom-end, steering a little free, so as not to
throw the admiral to leeward.

The Carnatic was scarcely out of the way, before the Achilles was ready
to take her place. This ship, having more room, had easily luffed to
windward of the Plantagenet, simply letting go her bowlines, as her bows
doubled on the admiral's stern, in order to check her way.

"How do you do to-day, Sir Gervaise?" called out Lord Morganic, without
waiting for the commander-in-chief's hail—"allow me to congratulate
you, sir, on the exploits of this glorious day!"

"I thank you, my lord, and wish to say I am satisfied with the behaviour
of your ship. You've
all
done well, and I desire to thank you
all
.
Is the Achilles injured?"

"Nothing to speak of, sir. A little rigging gone, and here and there a
stick."

"Have you lost any men, my lord? I desire particularly to know the
condition of each ship."

"Some eight or ten poor fellows, I believe, Sir Gervaise; but we are
ready to engage this instant."

"It is well, my lord; steady your bowlines, and make room for the
Thunderer."

Morganic gave the order, but as his ship drew ahead he called out in a
pertinacious way,—"I hope, Sir Gervaise, you don't mean to give that
other lame duck up. I've got my first lieutenant on board one of 'em,
and confess to a desire to put the second on board another."

"Ay—ay—Morganic,
we
knock down the birds, and
you
bag 'em. I'll
give you more sport in the same way, before I've done with ye."

This little concession, even Sir Gervaise Oakes, a man not accustomed to
trifle in matters of duty, saw fit to make to the other's rank; and the
Achilles withdrew from before the flag-ship, as the curtain is drawn
from before the scene.

"I do believe, Greenleaf," observed Lord Morganic to his surgeon, one of
his indulged favourites; "that Sir Jarvy is a little jealous of us,
because Daly got into the prize before he could send one of his own
boats aboard of her. 'Twill tell well in the gazette, too, will it
not?—'The French ship was taken possession of, and brought off, by the
Achilles, Captain the Earl of Morganic!' I hope the old fellow will have
the decency to give us our due. I rather think it
was
our last
broadside that brought the colours down?"

A suitable answer was returned, but as the ship is drawing ahead, we
cannot follow her to relate it. The vessel that approached the third,
was the Thunderer, Captain Foley. This was one of the ships that had
received the fire of the three leading French vessels, after they had
brought the wind abeam, and being the leading vessel of the English
rear, she had suffered more than any other of the British squadron. The
fact was apparent, as she approached, by the manner in which her rigging
was knotted, and the attention that had been paid to her spars. Even as
she closed, the men were on the yard bending a new main-course, the old
one having been hit on the bolt-rope, and torn nearly from the spar.
There were also several plugs on her lee-side to mark the spots where
the French guns had told.

The usual greetings passed between the vice-admiral and his captain, and
the former put his questions.

"We have not been quite exchanging salutes, Sir Gervaise," answered
Captain Foley; "but the ship is ready for service again. Should the wind
moderate a little, I think everything would stand to carry sail
hard
."

"I'm glad to hear it, sir—
rejoiced
to hear it, sir. I feared more for
you, than for any other vessel. I hope you've not suffered materially in
your crew?"

"Nine killed. Sir Gervaise; and the surgeon tells me sixteen wounded."

"That proves you've not been in port, Foley! Well, I dare say, could the
truth be known, it would be found that M. de Vervillin's vessels bear
your marks, in revenge. Adieu—adieu—God bless you."

The Thunderer glided ahead, making room for the Blenheim, Captain
Sterling. This was one of your serviceable ships, without any show or
style about her; but a vessel that was always ready to give and take.
Her commander was a regular sea-dog, a little addicted to hard and
outlandish oaths, a great consumer of tobacco and brandy; but who had
the discrimination never to swear in the presence of the
commander-in-chief, although he had been known to do so in a church; or
to drink more than he could well carry, when he was in presence of an
enemy or a gale of wind. He was too firm a man, and too good a seaman,
to use the bottle as a refuge; it was the companion of his ease and
pleasure, and to confess the truth, he then treated it with an
affectionate benevolence, that rendered it exceedingly difficult for
others not to entertain some of his own partiality for it. In a word,
Captain Sterling was a sailor of the "old school;" for there was an "old
school" in manners, habits, opinions, philosophy, morals, and reason, a
century since, precisely as there
is
to-day, and probably
will
be, a
century hence.

The Blenheim made a good report, not having sustained any serious injury
whatever; nor had she a man hurt. The captain reported his ship as fit
for service as she was the hour she lifted her anchor.

"So much the better, Sterling—so much the better. You shall take the
edge off the next affair, by way of giving you another chance. I rely on
the Blenheim, and on her captain."

"I thank you, sir," returned Sterling, as his ship moved on; "by the
way, Sir Gervaise, would it not be fair-play to rummage the prize's
lockers before she gets into the hands of the custom-house? Out here on
the high seas, there can be no smuggling in
that
: there must be good
claret aboard her."

"There would be 'plunder of a prize,' Sterling," said the vice-admiral,
laughing, for he knew that the question was put more as a joke than a
serious proposition; "and that is death, without benefit of clergy. Move
on; here is Goodfellow close upon your heels."

The last ship in the English line was the Warspite, Captain Goodfellow,
an officer remarkable in the service at that day, for a "religious
turn," as it was called. As is usually the case with men of this stamp,
Captain Goodfellow was quiet, thoughtful, and attentive to his duty.
There was less of the real tar in him, perhaps, than in some of his
companions; but his ship was in good order, always did her duty, and was
remarkably attentive to signals; a circumstance that rendered her
commander a marked favourite with the vice-admiral. After the usual
questions were put and answered, Sir Gervaise informed Goodfellow that
he intended to change the order of sailing so as to bring him near the
van.

"We will give old Parker a breathing spell, Goodfellow," added the
commander-in-chief, "and you will be my second astern. I must go ahead
of you all, or you'll be running down on the Frenchman without orders;
pretending you can't see the signals, in the smoke."

The Warspite drove ahead, and the Plantagenet was now left to receive
the prize and the Druid; the Chloe, Driver, and Active, not being
included in the signal. Daly had been gradually eating the other ships
out of the wind, as has been mentioned already, and when the order was
given to pass within hail, he grumbled not a little at the necessity of
losing so much of his vantage-ground. Nevertheless, it would not do to
joke with the commander-in-chief in a matter of this sort, and he was
fain to haul up his courses, and wait for the moment when he might
close. By the time the Warspite was out of the way, his ship had drifted
down so near the admiral, that he had nothing to do but to haul aboard
his tacks again, and pass as near as was at all desirable. When quite
near, he hauled up his main-sail, by order of the vice-admiral.

"Are you much in want of any thing, Mr. Daly?" demanded Sir Gervaise, as
soon as the lieutenant appeared forward to meet his hail. "The sea is
going down so fast, that we might now send you some boats."

"Many thanks, Sir Gervaise; I want to get rid of a hundred or two
Frenchmen, and to have a hundred Englishmen in their places. We are but
twenty-one of the king's subjects here, all told."