Henty George Alfred
With Cochrane the Dauntless
“You have indeed lost no time. Well, young sir, what do you think of going out with me?”
“I should like it above everything, my lord, and I am deeply grateful to you for offering me the post.”
“It is to your father, lad, that you should be grateful, and not to me, for he earned it for you. So you have had eighteen months in the eastern seas?”
“Yes, sir.”
“A very good school, I should say, Embleton; one has to keep one’s eyes open there.”
“Yes indeed. He told me on the way up yesterday of an adventure he had had with the Malays, and as only three out of a boat-load of nine escaped, it must have been a pretty sharp business.”
“If only three escaped it must have been sharp indeed,” Lord Cochrane said, “and they must have had marvellous luck in getting out of the Malays’ hands. He shall tell me all about it on our voyage out. Now, come along with me.”
He led the way to the dining-room, where Lady Cochrane was sitting, while her two children, of four and five years old, were playing about.
“My dear,” he said, “this is Lieutenant Embleton, whom you have heard me speak of a score of times as a most gallant officer, and a most ill-used man. This is his son, who is, you know, going out with us as my flag-midshipman; he has been eighteen months in the Indian Archipelago. And let me tell you, the Malays are much more serious foes than the Spaniards. You know, youngster, one of the chief duties of an admiral’s midshipman is to make himself agreeable to the admiral’s wife and family, if there are such incumbrances. He goes errands for her, attends her when she goes shopping, is a sort of head nurse to the children, and in our service he is generally nicknamed the admiral’s poodle. However, as soon as I get out there, I hope to find more attractive work for you, and until I do, I am sure my wife and the children will be glad they have someone with them to speak English.”
“I shall be very glad to be of any service I can,” Stephen said earnestly.
“I am afraid,” Lady Cochrane said with a smile, “that we shall have very little opportunity of availing ourselves of your services. When we once get out there you will be carried off by Lord Cochrane, and he will never set foot on shore again unless when absolutely driven to it.”
“Is your time for sailing fixed yet, Lord Cochrane?” the lieutenant asked.
“We shall sail on the 15th of August from Boulogne, so that your son will have three weeks to make his preparations.”
“Three days would be sufficient,” Embleton said, with a smile. “Naval outfitters are not so busy as they used to be, and would furnish an admiral’s kit, if necessary, in that time. Is there any particular uniform, sir?”
“No, it is something like our own; and if you rig him out in an ordinary midshipman’s uniform that will be good enough. Thank goodness, this weary waiting is over. It is now fourteen months since I accepted the offer of the Chilian government sent me by their agent, Don Jose Alvarez. I was to put off my departure so as to look after the building and equipment of a war steamer for the service, but there have been incessant delays owing to want of money. It has been enough to madden one; and, after all, I have to go without her and we sail in the Rose. She is one of the sloops sold out of the navy, and is now a merchantman. I daresay they would have kept me dawdling about here for months to come if it hadn’t been that they have been getting the worst of it out there, and it at length occurred to them that the admiral’s place is in command of his fleet, and not to act as a sort of foreman in looking after a single ship being built. We shall embark at Rye, but, of course, it will be more handy for you to send or bring him to Boulogne. I expect that we shall be there on the 13th, so as to have time to shake down before we start. Your son had better be there on that day. I will draw up his commission as my flag-midshipman at once, and will hand it to you when you dine with me, which I trust you and your son will do this evening. It is very fortunate that I am disengaged, for just at present I am going through a painful round of farewell dinners from my political friends.”
“I shall be very glad to do so, sir,” Mr. Embleton said, “and will not detain you farther now.”
As soon as they left Lord Cochrane they went to see Mr. Hewson.
“It is all arranged, I suppose?” the latter said as they entered.
“Yes, we have just left Lord Cochrane; but in the first place, Stephen, who is not much accustomed to return thanks, has asked me to say in his name how extremely obliged he is for your most kind offer to allow him to remain on the books of your fleet.”
“Say no more about it, Embleton. I am very pleased that I can be of any service to you, and to the lad also. Captain Pinder has spoken most warmly to me of his conduct during the voyage. He behaved in all respects excellently; and although, happily, the captain was not laid up, and was therefore able to attend himself to the details of navigation, he says that had he been disabled he should have felt no uneasiness on that score, Stephen’s observations being to the full as accurate as his own. He especially speaks of him in tones of commendation for his conduct in that unfortunate boat affair. Every credit is due to the sailor Wilcox who was with him through it; but the latter himself told the captain that he felt so certain that all those in the boat had been killed, that he should not have undertaken the risk of going near the Malay village had it not been for the lad’s insisting. He says, too, that although junior to Joyce—the lad they rescued—Stephen was really the leader; that many of his suggestions were most valuable. Wilcox is particularly strong on the manner in which the lad contrived to kindle a fire by using his watch-glass filled with water as a burning-glass. Altogether, I feel sure that your boy will make an excellent officer as he goes on, and I am glad that he will now have the opportunity of seeing some active service under Cochrane.
“I agree with what you said in your letter, that the berth is by no means likely to be a permanent one. As soon as Cochrane has relieved them from the state in which they now are, they are sure to be jealous of him, and he is the last man in the world to put up with slights, or to hold on to an appointment when he sees that he is no longer wanted. Still, it will do the lad a great deal of good and make a man of him, and his experience will put him outside the general category of mercantile sailors. I have got his chests here; they were sent up yesterday. I shall, of course, try and find out who was the captain of that ship whose chronometers he bought. Captain Pinder has told me all about it, and Stephen is absolutely entitled to the money he got. At the same time his offer to divide it was a generous one, but Captain Pinder and the mates are all dead against accepting it, and I agree with them. The money would be a mere trifle all round, but it will be a comfortable little sum for him. And it will, I am sure, be a satisfaction to him to be able to purchase his outfit now without trenching on your purse, especially as, going out as Cochrane’s own midshipman, he must take a much larger outfit than usual, as he will, of course, have to accompany the admiral on all public occasions. Now, I suppose he will like to go down to the dock and say good-bye to them there. The Tiger began unloading yesterday, and a good many of the hands will be paid off to-morrow.”
Captain Pinder and the first and third officers expressed their sincere regret that Stephen was not going to sail with them on the next voyage, and Joyce was greatly cut up about it.
“I wanted you to go down with me to stay with my father and mother near Oxford,” he said. “I wrote to them from Gravesend and I had a letter this morning, in which they told me to make you promise to come down before we sailed again.”
“I may be back again in a year,” Stephen replied, “and if I am I think Mr. Hewson will appoint me to the Tiger again.”
The captain undertook to dispose of Stephen’s collection of curios and bird skins for him, and also, if no news was obtained as to the lost ship, he would, when he sailed again, hand the chronometers and quadrants over to Mr. Hewson to keep for him.
Mr. Hewson that evening again talked over the question of the bag of money with Lieutenant Embleton, and convinced the latter that Stephen was entitled to keep the money, to which his right was, he declared, unquestionable. Stephen’s father was of the same opinion himself, and argued the question only because he felt that the fact that the money was really extremely useful at the present time, might render him unable to judge the matter fairly. He really had no answer to the reasons given by his friend, who, he was well assured, would not urge the matter upon him did he not feel that Stephen was really entitled to keep the money, which had entirely and absolutely passed out of the possession of its former owners, whoever they were.
“I never heard,” he said, “that anyone who was lucky enough to recover treasure in an old wreck had his right to retain it questioned, and here not even the wreck remained. So we will keep it and spend it, Hewson; but if you ever discover the owners of that ship let me know, and I shall be prepared to discuss the question with them.”
“We shall never discover them, my good sir,” Hewson said. “How can any man in the world say that that money belongs to a ship that has disappeared in the Malay Archipelago? The only possible clue is that afforded by the chronometers, and here again it is unlikely in the extreme that the owners of the ship, that has, perhaps, been sailing the seas for thirty or forty years, would be able to swear to her chronometers. Lastly, there is no shadow of proof that the chest in which the money was found came from the same ship as the chronometers; they may be the proceeds of two different acts of piracy. You will never hear anything about it.”
CHAPTER VII.
COCHRANE’S CAREER
“You promised, father,” Stephen said one evening, “that you would, some time or other, tell me more about the days when you served with Lord Cochrane.”
“Well, lad, I will tell you now. The first time I ever saw him was on the day when he joined the Hind at Sheerness, in June, 1793. I was a young midshipman on board her, and I can tell you we were all astonished at his appearance, for he was between seventeen and eighteen—a tall, gawky fellow. I believe he had had a commission in the army, but that his taste lay altogether in the direction of the sea, and that he obtained his appointment to us by the influence of his uncle, who was a post-captain at the time. Well, you know we generally entered at the age of fourteen, and you may imagine our surprise and amusement at a fellow arriving to begin, who was as old as the senior mid on board. Lord though he was, there was no nonsense about Cochrane. He was a very pleasant fellow, and I never saw anyone work so hard to learn his profession as he did. He actually satisfied even our first lieutenant, who was a rough, hard-working fellow, who had made his way up after having got his promotion from the main-deck, or having, as we used to call it, come in at the hawse-holes.
“He was an admirable seaman, heart and soul in his work, and ready to take off his coat and put on a suit of slops and work himself. He took rather a dislike at first to Cochrane, first because he was a lord, in the second place because he considered that he had taken to the profession too old to learn, and lastly because he brought a chest on board altogether beyond regulation size. Jack Larmour soon made short work of that. He called up the carpenters, and bade them saw a portion off the chest, cutting it through just on one side of the keyhole, so that the lock was now in the corner. Cochrane only laughed and said nothing, but I have no doubt the lieutenant expected him to say something hasty and so get himself into trouble. However, Jack soon changed his opinion of the new mid. The earnest desire of Cochrane to learn, and his willingness to put on a rough suit and work, showed that he was of the right stuff, and made him at last a prime favourite of the first lieutenant’s.
“I was only with him then a couple of months, for I was transferred to another ship, and did not come across him again until he was appointed by Lord Keith to the command of the Speedy, lying at Port Mahon. He had done a good deal of knocking about by that time, for the Hind was sent out to the coast of Norway, where it was suspected that French privateers used the fiords as hiding-places. On the return of the Hind from Norway, Cochrane’s uncle was appointed to the Thetis, and the Hind’s crew were transferred to her. The Thetis went out with a squadron for the protection of the islands of Nova Scotia, and so well was Cochrane thought of that in January, 1795, he was appointed by the admiral of the station acting third lieutenant of the Thetis, and was soon after transferred, with the same rank, to the Africa; and in July was confirmed in his rank, though he had been but two years at sea. In the Africa he coasted up and down, between Canada and Florida, looking out for ships of the enemy, but in the following January he rejoined the Thetis, whose first lieutenant had just been promoted. He then passed as lieutenant, and was afterwards appointed to the Speedy.
“The difficulty of his not having served the regulation time had been got over by his uncle in a way which was not uncommon then, and may be still practised for aught I know. His uncle thought that he might one day wish to join the navy, and had therefore entered his name in the books of the various ships he commanded, so that nominally he had formed part of the ship’s complement in the Vesuvius, Carolina, La Sophie, and Hind, and had therefore belonged to the service for the regulation period. It is a bad practice, lad, but in the case of Cochrane was the means of providing the king’s navy with as gallant an officer as ever trod quarter-deck. I went down with him from Gibraltar to Port Mahon with another midshipman who, like myself, had just passed, and was to join the Speedy. We were hoping to gain an opportunity for distinguishing ourselves, and getting a step.
“Our first sight of the craft was a grievous disappointment. She was a brig of 158 tons, and as she carried eighty-four men and six officers, you may imagine how we were crowded on board. Her armament consisted of fourteen four-pounders, ridiculous little weapons that were no more good than as many blunderbusses. I remember Cochrane putting fourteen balls into his pockets, and walking up and down the quarter-deck, saying that he was probably the only commander who had ever carried a whole ship’s broadsides in his pockets.
“He was awfully disgusted, as you may imagine, with his craft, and he applied for two twelve-pounders, to be used for stern-chasers. When he got them on board he found that there was not room for them to be worked. He had them fired off a few times, but the brig was so weakly built that the timbers would not stand the concussion. He was therefore obliged to send them on shore again. There was only a height of five feet even in the captain’s cabin, and I remember that Cochrane used to open the skylight and put his head up through it in order to shave himself, placing the soap-dish in front of him on the quarter-deck. However, we were a pleasant party on board. Cochrane was strict in the performance of duty, but an excellent fellow to sail with, anxious for the comfort of men and officers, and without a shadow of nonsense about him. His first lieutenant had served for a few months in that rank, Rogers and I were acting-lieutenants, and there was a doctor, and one midshipman, Lord Cochrane’s brother. Lord Cochrane at that time was twenty-four, or nearly so, his first lieutenant was a year older, Rogers and I twenty-one.
“We had a busy time on board the Speedy. We were continually up and down the coast, popping into quiet creeks and little ports in search of French privateers, and overhauling merchantmen, besides bearing what share we could in the general operations.
“Our first prize was a French privateer of six guns and forty-eight men. We had been ordered to convoy fourteen merchantmen from Cagliari to Leghorn, and saw a strange craft take possession of a Danish brig under our escort. We crowded on every inch of canvas, and set off in pursuit. The Speedy was not misnamed. Whatever her defects, she was certainly fast, and Cochrane had managed to add to the canvas she carried when he first took the command. The main boom was sprung, and he obtained from the dockyard another spar to replace it. This, however, was a good deal longer than the original, and the dockyard authorities decided that it must be taken down considerably. Instead of doing this Cochrane had about an inch cut off from each end, and had the spar replaced and hoisted. When the dockyard people came on board they did not notice that its length was unaltered, and as soon as we got out some more cloths of canvas were added to the mainsail, and we were thus enabled to carry a considerable spread of canvas for so small a craft. We soon overtook the prize, which surrendered at once, and then set off in chase of the privateer, which we overhauled, the sight of our long row of port-holes and crowded decks no doubt leading the Frenchmen to suppose we were a great deal stronger than he was, though in point of fact his six guns carried a much heavier weight of metal than our fourteen pop-guns together.
“Four days later five armed boats rowed out from Monte Cristo towards the convoy, which was lying becalmed. The brig got out sweeps to endeavour to interpose between them and her charges. Two vessels, however, which were lagging behind the others were boarded and captured. To our delight we soon afterwards saw a dark line on the water, and, directly it reached us, set off in pursuit of the captured merchantmen, which were headed towards Monte Cristo. The breeze soon freshened, and we presently overhauled and recaptured them, and then set off in pursuit of the armed boats. These, however, reached the shelter of the shore battery before we could overtake them; as our duty was to protect the convoy and not to cut out prizes, we hauled our wind and followed our charges, and a week later arrived with them all safely in Leghorn roads, and started to join Lord Keith’s squadron off Genoa, which he was blockading at sea while the Austrians beleaguered it on the land side. Here we cruised outside the town for a few days; then Massena surrendered, and the Speedy was ordered to cruise off the Spanish coast.
“On our way we captured a native craft off Elba, and a Sardinian vessel laden with oil and wool, which was a prize to a French privateer. We towed her into Leghorn, and again started, and captured the next day a Spanish privateer of ten guns and thirty-three men. Five gun-boats came out from Bastia in chase, but we took the prize in tow, and kept up a running fire with the gun-boats until, after chasing us for some hours, they gave it up. We took several other prizes, and sunk a privateer lying under shelter of a battery. We again took our prizes back into Leghorn, indeed it seemed that we were never to get away from that place, for, starting again, we captured a French privateer, and then fell in with the frigates Mutine and Salamine, which handed over to us a number of French prisoners that they had taken, and we had to carry them and our prize back to Leghorn. At last we got fairly away, and reached Port Mahon, capturing a Neapolitan vessel with a French prize crew on board.
“As far as I can remember nothing particular happened for the next three months, except that we got damaged in a storm and were six weeks refitting at Port Mahon. Three days after leaving the port we were off Majorca. There were several strange craft in sight; we picked out the largest and started in chase, when a French craft came out, and we altered our course to meet her. After exchanging fire with us for some time she drew off, but got too close inshore and drove on the rocks. As it was evident that she would become a wreck, we left her and captured one of the other ships.
“The activity of the Speedy caused the Spanish authorities to make special efforts to capture her, and she once nearly fell into the hands of a Spanish frigate, which had been painted as a merchantman. However, she opened her ports too soon; and fortunately we were prepared for the situation. Cochrane had had our craft painted in imitation of a Danish brig, which was trading on the coast, and whose appearance was familiar to the Spanish authorities, and a Danish quartermaster had been shipped to answer inconvenient questions.
“Directly we discovered the real nature of the supposed merchant ship, by her opening her ports, we ran up Danish colours, and on the ship’s name being demanded gave that of the Danish brig. The Spaniard, however, was not quite satisfied, and lowered a boat, whereupon we ran up the quarantine flag, and the Danish quartermaster, on the boat coming within hail and then stopping at a prudent distance, informed them that he had come from the African coast, where the plague was at that time raging. The boat pulled off to the frigate, which at once made sail and left us in solitude. It was a narrow escape, though possibly we might have made as good a fight of it as we did afterwards.
“Cruising about we took a considerable number of prizes. Our luck, indeed, was extraordinary, and we all anticipated that the prize-money would amount to a large sum. It was on the 4th of May that our first serious adventure began. We had captured some prizes off Barcelona, and a swarm of gunboats came out to try to retake them. However, we kept them at bay until the prizes had got off, and the following night returned to our station off the town. We found that there was a strict watch being kept ashore, for the gun-boats at once came out, but when we sailed towards them they made for the shore, keeping up a fire at us as they retired.
“Again we drew off and again they came out, and twice during the day they did the same, always returning when we sailed in to meet them. Their fire was exceedingly accurate, and after each skirmish with them we had to draw off and repair damages. It seemed to us that there must be some object in the gun-boats’ action, and that they were trying to decoy us to go close inshore, where some larger ship might be ready to come out against us. Just before daybreak on the 6th we again ran in towards Barcelona. As we did so we saw a large ship creeping along under the land, as if making for the port. We at once sailed to cut her off, when, instead of trying to avoid us, she changed her course and sailed towards us, and we saw that she was a Spanish frigate. Two or three of our fellows had expressed an opinion that had we attacked the Spaniard under whose guns we had run three months before, we might have taken her. Lord Cochrane, as soon as she was made out to be a frigate, said to them:
“‘You shall now have a fair fight, gentlemen;’ and ordered the boatswain to pipe all hands for action.
“I tell you, lad, it seemed to me that our chances were slight indeed, for nearly half our men and two of the officers were away in prizes, and, including officers and boys, we had but fifty-four men on board, so it was probable that the enemy had five or six times that number, while he had thirty-four guns to our fourteen miserable little pieces. I thought it certain we should be blown out of the water, and I fancy everyone else thought the same. However, we held on straight towards her. She fired a gun and hoisted Spanish colours. At that time we were almost abreast of her, and Cochrane, who had the American colours ready, ordered them to be run up. This gave us time to get on to the other tack, and hold on till a little out of her direct line of fire. Then we at once pulled down the stars and stripes and hoisted the British ensign. The Spaniard fired a broadside, to which we made no reply. Our guns were trebly shotted, but Cochrane had given orders that not a shot was to be fired until we were alongside the Spaniard, as our fire would do no damage whatever to the ship. As we headed for her they fired another broadside, but, like the first, this did us no harm, and rounding up under her stern Cochrane ran us alongside.
“Our yards became locked in the Spaniard’s rigging, and we then poured in our broadside, which at this distance did considerable damage on her main deck, the first discharge having, as we afterwards learned, killed the Spanish captain and boatswain. Our guns had been elevated to their full extent, for of course she towered high above us. While our shot struck up through her main-deck, the Spanish guns roared overhead, cutting up our rigging, but doing us no harm whatever below, while our fire continued to work havoc among them. We heard the order shouted to board, but were prepared for this, and at once pushed off far enough to prevent them from leaping on to our deck, while the men caught up the muskets that had been ranged in readiness against the bulwark, and poured a volley into them as they appeared at the side in readiness to jump down. Then we gave them another broadside, and closed up again. Twice again they attempted to board, but each time failed, and the fight went on.
“Our fellows were thoroughly excited, and ready for anything, but it was clear that the present state of affairs could not last much longer. Our rigging and sails were cut to pieces, and the masts might at any moment go, and the frigate would then only have to cut herself free, draw off a short distance, and sink us. Cochrane, who was as cool as a cucumber, went along among the men at their quarters, and told them that they had either got to take the frigate or be taken themselves, in which case they would probably get no quarter, as the Spaniards would be maddened at the loss they had suffered from so insignificant a foe. ‘It needs,’ he said, ‘but a few minutes’ hard fighting to settle the matter.’ All replied that they were ready. Cochrane was always up to fun, and he called a portion of the crew away from the guns, and told them to damp some powder and blacken their faces. You never saw such figures as they were when they came up. Cochrane ordered them to board at the enemy’s bow, while the rest of the crew were to board by the waist.
“Guthrie, the doctor, volunteered to take the helm, and when Cochrane gave the order the rest of us, men and boys, sprang on to the deck of the Spaniard. Through the wreaths of smoke they had caught sight of our preparations, and, believing that we intended to board by the bow, the greater portion of their crew were gathered there. The appearance of our fellows’ faces as they emerged from the smoke and leapt upon the deck, and with loud shouts rushed at them, struck them with astonishment. I was with this party, and, excited as I was, could scarcely refrain from bursting out laughing at their dismay. Our men certainly were enough to surprise anyone. Bathed in sweat, worked up to a pitch of wild excitement, naked to the waist, with their faces and bodies streaked with the powder, one could understand that the superstitious Spaniards, already depressed by their vain efforts to overpower so puny an assailant, thought that they were attacked by foes straight from the infernal regions. As they stood hesitating and aghast, we went at them, while Cochrane, with the force that had boarded at the waist, fell upon them in rear.
“Recovering themselves, the Spaniards made a rush to the waist, defending themselves stoutly, and for a while it seemed as if their numbers must in the end prevail. The Spanish colours were still flying at her peak, and Cochrane, observing them, told one of the sailors to make his way aft and haul them down. As soon as the Spaniards saw their flag disappear, they thought that the officers must have surrendered, and at once threw down their arms. Without giving them time to think, or for their officers to rally them, they were hurried down into the hold, and cannon were run round, loaded with grape, and pointed down the hatchways in case they should make an effort to retake the ship. As for us, we could hardly believe in our good luck. The fight had lasted an hour and a half, and our loss had been exceedingly small. Our first lieutenant, Parker, had been severely wounded in several places, three sailors were killed, and seventeen wounded. We found that our prize was the Gamo frigate, with a crew of three hundred and nineteen men, mounting thirty-two guns, firing a broadside weight of one hundred and ninety pounds, while we had only fourteen small guns.
“She was between six and seven hundred tons, and in the fight had lost her captain, boatswain, and thirteen seamen killed and forty-one wounded, her casualties thus exceeding the whole number of our officers and crew. Even in the annals of our navy there is no instance of so successful an action against such disproportionate odds. We naturally congratulated ourselves upon our fortunes being as good as made. Cochrane would, of course, at once receive post-captain’s rank, Parker would receive a step, and I should get at least a second lieutenantship. Cochrane’s brother was placed in command of the prize, and we sailed with him to Port Mahon. As I have already told you, the jealousy of Lord Exmouth and the hot temper of Cochrane caused the overthrow of our hopes. Cochrane, after three months’ delay, obtained his post rank, of which they could not deprive him, as, having captured a vessel of superior force, he was entitled to it. They refused, however, to promote Parker, which was simply scandalous and altogether in defiance of the usages of the service, and it was some time before I got a berth again. However, after we had repaired damages, matters went on for a time as before.
