Every Man Will Do His Duty (6 page)

At this season of the year we could reckon upon daylight till past 8 o’clock. We had, therefore, plenty of time to renew the action. Why that was not done astonished all hands on board the English fleet. Lord Howe had obtained, by clever tactics, the position most desirable for his operations, and we all expected the signal would be made to renew the battle. But this was not the case. It was the custom with the French to wait the attack, instead of being the aggressors. They were under easy sail to leeward of us, on the larboard tack, evidently anticipating our closing upon them. Lord Howe, it seems, was not satisfied that the enemy had shown a resolution to fight, and not evade us. Under that impression, he determined to take his time. By that decision we had two or three days of more anxiety, previous to our having an opportunity of bringing affairs to a conclusion. The night was passed in tolerable quietness.

On the morning of the 30th we had foggy weather. Our fleet not being in very good order, the signals were made from Lord Howe’s ship to form in line of battle. The
Caesar
happened at that moment to be close to us, pumping out quantities of water, the effect of the shot she had received below. We heard that one of her guns had burst on the previous day, by which 18 men were killed and wounded. The fog partially clearing away, the enemy was seen to leeward. The admiral instantly made the signal to prepare for action, upon which the
Caesar
threw out the signal of inability to do so. Our fleet formed in line of battle as well as circumstances would allow, but the hazy weather rendered our evolutions uncertain, and there did not appear any probability, that day, of any more fighting. Finally, the fog becoming thicker, we lost sight of the French, so that we could not close upon the enemy.

The morning of the 31
^st
was still misty, with favourable symptoms of its clearing away, the wind in the S.W. quarter. In the afternoon, the fog disappearing, we beheld the enemy some distance to leeward. We prepared for action, and made sail to close upon him. By 7 o’clock we had reached within five miles of the French fleet. The weather became fine, and we enjoyed one of the most splendid sights ever witnessed—the two fleets
close to each other in line of battle, only waiting for the signal to commence the work of destruction, the repeating frigates of the two nations within gunshot. However, all passed off in quietness. Lord Howe, having placed his fleet in an exact line with that of the enemy, he drew off for the night, which we passed in extreme anxiety. We could not reckon on more than six hours of darkness, and therefore concluded that we should commence operations with the dawn. Very few of the
Defences
took off any clothing, and the hammocks were not piped down. Our whole thoughts hung upon the approaching event. As to your humble servant, being rather fatigued, I preferred, it being a beautiful starlight night, to remain on deck. I selected one of the topsail halyard
¹⁵
tubs on the forecastle, and coiled myself as well as I could inside of it, where I took a snooze which I enjoyed, and felt more refreshed when awoke by the tars than I should have done had I gone to bed: at least I thought so. I felt an elasticity beyond expression.

RISING THEN
from my tub, I beheld the enemy about 10 miles off to leeward, on the starboard tack. There was a fine breeze and lovely weather. It was Sunday, and I thought the Captain would not have much time for prayers, as the work in hand would be of a very different nature. Lord Howe drew up the fleet in capital order. He made several changes in the disposition of the ships, to render every part of his line equal. The
Defence
was the seventh ship in the van. When his Lordship had completed his arrangements for attacking the enemy, he made the signal for the different divisions, that is the van, centre and rear, to engage the opposite divisions of the French: then for each ship in the English line to pass through the enemy and attack his opponent to leeward. Next, the fleet was hove to, that the crews might have their breakfasts. This was going to work in a regular methodical manner. His Lordship knew that John Bull did not like fighting with an empty stomach; but it was a sorry meal, scarcely deserving the name. We had not had much time for a fire in the range for cooking since the 28th of last month. All the tables and conveniences were stowed below; all the partitions taken down; nothing to be seen on the decks but powder, shot, ramrods and instruments of destruction. Whilst the ship’s Company were making the best of the time allowed for refreshment, the Captain collected most of his officers in the cabin, where a short prayer suitable to the occasion was offered to the Almighty for protection against the impending event. The half hour having elapsed, up went the signal for the fleet to bear down and bring the enemy to action, it being
then near 9 o’clock. What an awful moment! How shall I describe it? A scene of magnificence and importance, not of common occurrence, and not often equalled on the ocean—upwards of 50 sail of the line viewing each other, and preparing to pour out their thunder destructive of the human species, which would decide the fate of either fleet, and probably that of the nation.

Our Captain went round the ship and spoke to all the men at their guns in terms of encouragement, to fight for their country. The replies he received were gratifying in the highest degree. The noblest feelings of patriotism were proclaimed, with expressions of the warmest enthusiasm: in short, a determination to conquer prevailed throughout the ship—and, I may as well say, throughout the British fleet. As we neared the French up went our colours—

“High o’er the poop the flattering winds unfurl’d

Th’ imperial Flag that rules the watery world.”

The
Defence,
being a good sailer, made rapid speed through the waves, going under double reefed topsails with a commanding breeze. Twysden, noticing that we had advanced too far beyond our line, hastened on to the quarter deck to point out to his Captain, with becoming respect, that he was exposing his ship to the utmost danger by going on singlehanded without support, and that he ran the risk of being either sunk or totally disabled. The maintopgallant sail had been set by us, the only ship in the line to have done so. In fact, when the signal had been made to bear down, the ship came before the wind, and the Captain, anxious to obey orders, was striving to commence the action as soon as he could. Lord Howe had observed this action of Capt. Gambler’s, and mentioned it to the officers near him, saying, “Look at the
Defence.
See how nobly she is going into action!” His Lordship then turning round and casting his eyes over the fleet, said, “I believe I cannot make any more signals. Every ship has had instructions what to do”; then, shutting his signal book, left the poop to take his chance on the quarter deck. Lieut. Twysden prevailed on his Captain to take in the maintopgallant sail, but the ship still proceeded, and extended her distance beyond the British line. Then the mizen topsail was braced aback, by which more wind filled the maintopsail. Therefore, instead of retarding her motion, it was accelerated. The lieutenant mentioned this, but the Captain would not make any more reduction of sail. He said, “I am acting in obedience to the admiral’s signal. Fill the mizen topsail again. It may probably be thought that I have no wish to do so if I shorten sail.” This last reply quieted Twysden. As I happened to be present at that particular moment, I heard every
word that passed. The mizen topsail was braced round to receive the wind, and our whole attention was then directed to the ship in the enemy’s line—the 7th—that we were to engage.

The French fleet had their maintopsails to the mast, and were waiting for our attack. Shortly after 9 o’clock we were getting very near to our opponents. Up went their lower deck ports, out came the guns, and the fire on us commenced from several of the enemy’s van ships. Twysden then went to his quarters on the main deck, and your humble servant went below to his station. We retained our fire till in the act of passing under the Frenchman’s stern, then, throwing all our topsails aback, luffed up and poured in a most destructive broadside. We heard most distinctly our shot striking the hull of the enemy. The carved work over his stern was shattered to pieces. Then, ranging up alongside of him within half pistol shot distance, our fire was kept up with the most determined spirit. When we had measured our length with that of our adversary, we backed the maintopsail. In that position the action was maintained for some time. We had instructions below to lower the ports whilst loading the guns,
¹⁶
that the enemy’s musketry might not tell upon our men, and also to fire with a slight elevation, as the upper deck guns would be depressed a few degrees, thus making a cross fire upon the Frenchman. After the two or three first broadsides, I became anxious to have a good view of the ship we were engaging. To effect this object, I requested the men at the foremost gun to allow me a few seconds, when the port was hauled up, to look out from it. They complied with my wishes. The gun being loaded, I took my station in the centre of the port; which being held up, I beheld our antagonist firing away at us in quick succession. The ship was painted a dark red, as most of the enemy’s fleet were, to denote (as previously mentioned) their sanguinary feelings against their adversaries. I had not enjoyed the sight long—only a few seconds—when a rolling sea came in and completely covered me. The tars, noticing this, instantly let down the port, but I got a regular soaking for my curiosity. The men cheered me, and laughingly said, “We hope, Sir, you will not receive further injury. It is rather warm work here below: the salt water will keep you cool.”

One of these, John Polly, of very short stature, remarked that he was so small the shot would all pass over him. The words had not been long out of
his mouth when a shot cut his head right in two, leaving the tip of each ear remaining on the lower part of the cheek.

His sudden death created a sensation among his comrades, but the excitement of the moment soon changed those impressions to others of exertion. There was no withdrawing from our situation, and the only alternative was to face the danger with becoming firmness. The head of this unfortunate seaman was cut so horizontally that anyone looking at it would have supposed it had been done by the blow of an axe. His body was committed to the deep.

The action was kept up with the utmost determination. At ½ past 10 our mizen mast was shot away, and our ship drifted to leeward. Several of my men were wounded. Holmes, the Captain of one of the guns, a powerful fine fellow, had his arm carried away close to the shoulder. By this time it was evident that the French were getting the worst of it, as we were obliged to go over to the starboard side to defend ourselves against an enemy’s ship. At ½ past 11 the main mast came down on the starboard side of the poop with a terrible crash. This information was conveyed to us below by some of the seamen who had been in the tops. As they could no longer be useful in consequence of two of the masts being shot away, they were ordered down to the guns. They reported the upper end of the quarter deck to be dreadfully shattered. The lower deck was at times so completely filled with smoke that we could scarcely distinguish each other, and the guns were so heated that, when fired, they nearly kicked the upper deck beams. The metal became so hot that, fearing some accident, we reduced the quantity of powder, allowing also more time to elapse between the loading and firing of them.

One of the Captains of my guns was a Swede, by name John West. I noticed his backwardness, but before I could take any steps in his behalf, we had to change sides, a ship engaging us on our left. We had not been long occupied with her when we were called over to the right. After firing a broadside, John Lee, second captain of West’s gun, told me that he had deserted his quarters. “Why didn’t you knock him down?” I asked. “I did, Sir,” was the reply, “with this handspike,” showing it to me. However, West had absconded, and I was too much taken up with the pressing events of the moment to look after him. The ship we were engaging was very close, and the shot from him did us considerable injury. One of my guns was dismounted. This disaster created some confusion, more especially as the ship, from the loss of her masts, was rolling deeply; and we had considerable difficulty in securing the gun. Whilst we were occupied about this job, Lieut. Beecher thought that he observed a disinclination on the part of the seamen to exert themselves. All of a sudden he drew his sword from the scabbard, and began flourishing it about with threats that he would cut the first man down that did not do his duty. The tars were rather
astonished at this proceeding of their officer as, hitherto, he had approved of their conduct. They had been fighting hard for upwards of two hours, and naturally were fatigued. They explained their anxiety to do their best. This pacified the heroic lieutenant. He sheathed his sword, and the men went on at the guns as before.

Just as this scene terminated, two of the men were blown down from the wind of a shot from the ship we were engaging, and I was carried away with them by the shock. I thought myself killed, as I became senseless, being jammed between these men. So soon as the smoke cleared away, our companions noticed my situation. They came, lugged me out, and began rubbing my limbs. This brought me to my senses. They lifted me up, enquiring if I felt myself hurt. I called out for water to drink. They handed to me a bowl with water. When I drank of it, it was quite salt. There were some saltbags hanging up close by, belonging to the men of that particular mess. These had been shot down, and had impregnated the water placed there to be used as required by those that were thirsty. Recovering myself, I felt considerable pain in my head and shoulders. My left cheek was cut by a splinter and bled profusely. I then examined the two men with whom I had been knocked down. In outward appearance they were dead; but as I did not consider myself a sufficient judge of these matters, I desired a couple of seamen to take them below to the surgeon. Whilst I was giving these directions, we were called over to the larboard side to repel the attack of an enemy. After a few broadsides he passed us. From him we received no injury at my quarters. Not long after, another Frenchman ranged up on the starboard side. Away we turned to, and pelted him as hard as we could. In crossing over I beheld the two wounded men still lying in the same position I had left them. Then, calling upon those to whom I had given orders to take the disabled men below, I insisted upon their immediately complying with my directions. They were then conveyed to the cockpit. After a few broadsides exchanged with our opponent, he made sail to leeward, and we had a few minutes’ rest. This gave me an opportunity of looking out of the ports, but there was not much to be seen from that low situation. All that we could make out, in our conjectures, led us to believe that the action was nearly over. We could plainly at times distinguish the French ships sailing off and forming to leeward, engaging our ships as they passed by.