Digby Heathcote Part 10

"Soon after this, our squadron was cruising off the Bay of Naples--not all, by the by, the Espoir had been sent away somewhere, and we had only the _Spartan_, that was our s.h.i.+p, and the Success. Well, we made out, under weigh in the Bay, two s.h.i.+ps, a brig and a cutter. Not many moments had gone by before we had crowded all sail in chase. It was a French squadron we saw, but they didn't like our looks, so they put about and stood towards Naples, we following them almost up to the Mole.

That was on the first of May. The next morning at daylight we saw our friends at anchor, but they seemed in no way inclined to come out and fight us.

"'Perhaps if they see one of us alone they may come out and take a taste of our quality,' says our captain; so he sent off the Success to wait for us about eight leagues from the island of Capri, thinking that the Frenchmen would then, without doubt, venture out to attack us.

"In the meantime, the French General who had command at Naples, Prince Murat, had formed a plan to capture us. His French squadron consisted of a 42-gun frigate, the _Ceres_; a 28-gun corvette, the _Fama_; an 8-gun brig, the _Sparviere_; and a cutter, mounting 10 guns; but besides these there were seven gunboats at least, each with one long 18-pounder and 40 men. General Murat had also embarked four hundred Swiss troops on board the s.h.i.+ps, so that they had altogether 95 guns and 1,400 men, while we had only 38 guns and about 260 men. [Note.] We didn't mind the odds against us, all we thought of was how we could take the enemy.

They made sure, however, it seems, with the great odds in their favour, on the other hand, do ye see, of taking us; but we sung, with some right to sing it, too:--

"Hearts of oak are our s.h.i.+ps, Jolly tars are our men; We always are ready, Then steady, boys, steady, We'll fight, and we'll conquer again and again."

"All we were anxious for was the moment to begin. At last, before sunrise, on the third day after we had first made them out, which, do you see, was the 3rd of May, 1810, we got a slant of wind from the South-east, though it was very light, and we, being well to the southward, stood under easy sail into the Bay of Naples.

"Well, we were keeping a bright look-out for the enemy, and just at daybreak we made them out about six miles ahead, standing out from the Mole of Naples, and just between the island of Capri and the mainland.

We were on the starboard tack, and they were on the larboard, or what we now call the port tack, remember."

"What do you mean by the starboard and port tacks?" asked Digby, who was much interested in the details of the account, and wanted to understand it.

"Why, you see, the two lower corners of square sails have ropes to them called tacks and sheets. The tacks haul the corners of the sail down to the fore part of the s.h.i.+p, and the sheets to the after part. If the tack is hauled down on the starboard side, the sheet is of course on the other side, or to leeward, and the s.h.i.+p is then said to be on the starboard tack. So you'll know if the wind strikes the starboard side, the s.h.i.+p is on the starboard tack, or, if it comes on the other side, she's on the port or larboard tack."

"Thank you," answered Digby; "I know now, I think. But go on; it's very interesting."

"I vote that no one interrupts to ask questions," exclaimed Power.

"When the story is done we'll all fire away as much as we like. Won't that be best, Toby?"

Toby seemed to be of Power's opinion, so the motion was agreed to _nem con_.

"Where was we?" began Toby, having been slightly put out, as even the best story-tellers are when interrupted. "Let's see. Oh, I know, standing in towards the Bay of Naples, to meet the French squadron. We were on the starboard tack; they were on the opposite one. There's a picture been done of the fight. It always does my old heart good to look at it; because, do ye see, it's not like some pictures of battles-- it's true. An officer, an old s.h.i.+pmate, gave it me, and so I had it put in a frame, with a gla.s.s over it, and hung up in my cottage.

"There we were, do ye see, the three French s.h.i.+ps and we, drawing nearer and nearer to each other on opposite tacks. The Frenchmen followed each other in line, the _Ceres_ leading, followed by the _Fama_ and _Sparviere_, with the wind abeam. Instead, however, of keeping close together, as they ought to have done, they were some distance from each other. The light wind was thus all in our favour, as I'll make you understand. At last the _Ceres_ clewed up her courses, and we did the same, and right glad we were to do it.

"Now, remember, that the Frenchman's decks were crowded with troops, poor Swiss fellows, who had no wish naturally to hurt us any more than we had to hurt them.

"'Now, lads, all hands lie down at their quarters. We shall be having a pretty hot shower of musketry among us before many minutes are over, and it will be just as well to let it pa.s.s over our heads,' sung out our captain. All the time, though, he did not lie down, nor did some of the officers; but of course all the people did as they were ordered, except the men at the helm. It was close upon eight o'clock, when we were within pistol-shot of the _Ceres_, that she opened her fire on us.

Still we lay quiet. Now, do ye see, all our guns on the main deck were treble shotted.

"Our captain calmly waited, eyeing the enemy till every one of our guns bore on him. 'Up, boys, and fire away!' he shouted. Didn't we just spring to our feet and blaze away like fury. What shrieks and cries rose from the Frenchman's decks. Our shot mowed down the troops like corn-stalks before the sickle, besides killing numbers of the crew. The soldiers were drawn up all ready for boarding, but our captain was too wise to let them do that. As we were going little more than two knots through the water, we had plenty of time to load again, and to give the second Frenchman, the _Fama_, the same taste of our quality. Numbers were killed and wounded aboard her, and then, loading once more, we continued our course and fired into the brig. We had still the gunboats to talk to. They were not to be despised, and, as it proved, they were the worst enemies we had. As we approached them we fired our headmost starboard guns at them, and then, going about, let fly our whole larboard broadside, which we had again got ready for their amus.e.m.e.nt.

They returned it with interest, though, and we lost many men from the shot of their long guns, while most of our masts and spars were likewise wounded. As we went about our starboard broadside was not idle, and we kept peppering away at the brigs and the two s.h.i.+ps ahead of us. Well, the French commodore ought to have steered for the gunboats, but instead of that he wore round and stood away for Baia, on the north side of the Bay, where there were some batteries. We wore after him. Our captain had taken his stand on the capstan head, that he might have a clear view of everything, and a fine sight it was to see him standing up there undaunted, while the round-shot and musket-b.a.l.l.s were flying thick around his head. 'Ay, he's the right sort of stuff, that skipper of ours,' said my messmate, Bill Simmonds. 'If we don't take one or more of those Frenchmen I'm very much mistaken.' After we had got up to the gunboats, and a large cutter there was among them, and hammered away at them, the breeze fell, and left us surrounded with enemies. The _Ceres_ lay ahead, with her starboard broadside turned towards us; and we had on our port bow the corvette and brig, while the cutter and gunboats came sweeping up astern, and pounding us pretty severely with their long eighteen-pounders. In spite of our first success, it seemed just then as if matters would go very hard with us. What was our sorrow, too, to see our brave captain knocked off his post badly wounded. He was carried below, for a grape-shot had hit him in the hip. Our first lieutenant, Mr Willes, then took the command. How we did whistle for a wind. Scarcely was our brave captain carried below before a light breeze sprung up: and I can't tell you how our hearts beat with joy when we found ourselves once more drawing near the French frigate. There we soon were, on her starboard quarter, and on the starboard bow of the corvette, so that our guns were able almost to rake them both at the same time. We had, however, the brig peppering away at us on our larboard quarter, while the cutter and gunboats, some of which were astern and others on the starboard quarter, kept up a hot fire at us all the time. The enemy, it seemed, however, had no wish to continue at such close quarters, for as soon as the frigate's sails felt the breeze, away she ran as fast as her legs could carry her, till she got under the shelter of the batteries of Baia. We should have followed her, but our rigging and sails had been so knocked about and riddled with shot that for the best of all reasons we didn't--because we couldn't. We managed to wear, however, and gave the frigate and corvette a parting benefit, raking them fore and aft with our starboard guns, and knocking away the corvette's foretopmast. At the same time we poured our whole larboard broadside into the brig. Hearty was the shout raised aboard us, when down came her main-topmast, and, lowering her colours, she sung out for mercy, lest we should give her a second dose of the same character.

Dropping a boat to take possession, we stood after the corvette, and should have taken her, but the gunboats came up with their long sweeps, and, in spite of a pretty severe fire we kept up at them, towed her in a very spirited way out of action. As I was saying, we couldn't then follow, or we'd have had her also, at least. Perhaps we might have had the frigate, too. We hadn't given up all hopes of another prize, and with a hearty good will we set to work to repair damages. We had altogether been rather more than two hours pretty closely engaged with the enemy. We'd lost by this time ten killed and twenty-two wounded.

Both our captain and first lieutenant were very severely hurt. When the French frigate saw that we could not get up to her, she sneaked away from Baia and stood back towards Naples. By the time we were put somewhat to rights the sea-breeze set in, and so our captain ordered the prize to be taken in tow, and away we stood, pa.s.sing just in front of Naples, before which the rest of the enemy had just dropped their anchors. Whether they thought that we were going to fetch any of them out I don't know. We heard afterwards that the French General, Prince Murat, who called himself King of Naples, was watching all the time, expecting to see his frigate tow us in; and you may be sure that he was in a pretty great rage when he saw us carry off one of his s.h.i.+ps instead, as our prize, before his very nose. I've heard since that the French, to excuse themselves, declared that our frigate was a _rase_, or cut-down s.h.i.+p, and that we carried fifty heavy guns. You may read of many gallant actions, young gentlemen, but I don't believe that you'll ever hear tell of one better-fought battle. It showed the Frenchmen the stuff we were made of, though they'd found that out pretty often before.

There's one thing you may depend on,--every victory gained helps to win another. The enemy can't help expecting to be beaten, and you feel that you've a fair prospect of winning the day. It's just the same thing, take an old man's word for it, when you've got to fight with bad habits, or vices, or sin of any sort, evil tempers, and evil propensities. Gain one victory. Learn that you can conquer the foe, and the next time you try you'll find that he gives way more easily than at first; but, if you let him gain the victory, why 'tis you will go to the wall, faster and faster each time, till he knocks you down altogether. But I was telling you how the gallant _Spartan_ captured the _Sparviere_; and don't forget to come and see the picture, which 'll show you all about it."

The boys thanked Toby for his story, and all promised that they would go and pay him a visit, and see the prints of the battle. I need not repeat all the questions they asked him about it; how he liked having the shot flying about his head, and seeing his s.h.i.+pmates knocked over near him, and all that sort of thing.

"As to the first, young gentlemen," he answered, "I can't say as how I ever thought much about it; and as to the second, a man before he goes into battle knows that it may be his lot, and so he makes up his mind to it. When a man makes up his mind to a thing it is much easier to bear it, let me tell you. Besides, very few men, when they once begin to fight, think about anything else but the fighting."

The conversation to which Toby's history led lasted the party till they reached the place at which they intended to pic-nic. It had been selected not so much because of its peculiar beauty, as on account of the good fis.h.i.+ng which Power expected to get there. He talked of salmon-peel, and ba.s.se, and flounders, and plaice, all of which come up salt-water rivers, and often venture into brackish waters. Power at once set off to the spot where he intended to fish: it was on a bank just below a mill-dam. The salt-water flowed in with the flood-tide, and when the ebb made a strong current run out, which always kept open a deep channel. Some shade-giving trees grew about, the turf was soft and green, and, at a little distance, the cliffs turned inland, and formed a ravine, in which stood the mill and the mill pond. Marshall and Easton went off to botanise, and to search in the cliffs for geological specimens and other subjects of natural history; while Digby and two other boys accompanied Power with their rods. Ten minutes pa.s.sed, and all except Power began to make signs to each other expressive of increasing hunger; but no sign was there of a fish.

"Hurra!" he at last exclaimed; "I have a bite; I knew I should." His float began to bob, and away it went down the stream. He gave his rod a jerk. "I have him fast enough," he exclaimed. High he lifted his rod, and up came a fish--but such a fish--a little, ugly, big-headed, flat-snouted monster.

"A miller's thumb!--a miller's thumb!" shouted the party, laughing heartily. "What a fine dinner he will make for us," cried one. "I hope you'll let us have something else, Power," said Digby.

"Not unless you will all hold your tongues, and let me try again, for I don't think any of you will catch anything," said Power.

Just then Toby arrived, with a stick and line. He held up the poor bull-head with a comical look, and pretended to let it drop down his throat--a proceeding which he would have found very unpleasant as besides its large head its back was armed with a row of sharp spines.

"We call this a sea-scorpion, or sea-toad, and some call it a father-lasher, because he is supposed to be so wicked that he would beat even his own father," said Toby, putting back the fish with a pretence of the greatest care into the basket. "Now, young gentlemen, I'll see what I can do for the pot; it's on, and boiling, and only wants something put into it. I'll make you some pebble-soup if we don't catch any fish; but the fish will be best, I think." Toby, on this, went a little lower down the creek, and taking his seat on the bank, let his line drop into the water, throwing in, every now and then, some ground bait. Before long, he pulled out a s.h.i.+ning silvery little fish, of most graceful form; another and another followed in rapid succession.

Digby, who had caught nothing, went up to him. "Why, Toby, what are those pretty little fish? I should like to have some of them," he observed. "How do you catch them?"

"I'll show you if you'll sit down and try," answered Toby. "You've caught no fish because you've been wandering about from place to place, and not taking advantage of the experience you have got with your first trials. If one depth won't do, raise or lower your float; if one bait don't do, try another; and the same with your hook, if you find that you get bites and don't catch anything. Perseverance is the thing. I generally can tell how a lad is likely to get on in life by the way I see him fish. You'll excuse my freedom, Master Digby; I like to say what I think will be likely to be useful to you."

Digby thanked Toby, though he did not quite see the drift of his reasoning. He, however, put on a very small hook, and watched how he caught the smelts; and, in a short time, he had pulled up nearly a dozen. He might have captured more, but turning his head up the stream he saw that Power was hauling some big fish out of the water, and he could not resist the temptation of running off to see what it was.

"Help! help! Here, the landing-net, the landing-net," shouted Power.

"I've a conger, a conger; there's no doubt about it."

The conger-eel, which occasionally comes up salt-water rivers, is a ferocious fish, with powerful jaws. This was of good size, and struggled so violently, that Digby was afraid of losing hook, and net, and line. The other young fishermen had gone to a little distance, and were busily engaged in hauling in some captives which their skill had taken. Digby, in his eagerness, leaned over so far with the net that, just as he had got the conger into it, he lost his balance, and in he went heels over head. Power nearly followed. The conger got entangled in the net; and Digby's first impulse, as his head came above water, was to grapple hold of the fish. This he did most effectually, and a tremendous struggle commenced; the conger trying to bite Digby, and Digby determined not to let him go. Power's feelings were divided between his anxiety for Digby's safety and his wish not to lose his captive. His shouts called Marshall and Easton, who were not far off.

"Haul him out, haul him out!" he cried, l.u.s.tily. "He'll make a magnificent dish."

"Which?" asked Marshall, laughing, "Digby or the fish?"

"Digby, Digby," answered Power, really thinking that he was in danger.

"No, no," cried Digby, "I won't be cooked. Get out the fish first.

He's half mine, though, for I helped to catch him."

The conger was wriggling about all the time, and Power was making every effort to keep his head away from Digby, whom the fish had apparently a strong wish to bite. Between all parties there was a tremendous amount of laughing, and shouting, and splas.h.i.+ng. At last Marshall got hold of Digby's collar, and out he pulled him, still grasping the net and the fish.

"Don't let us go till you have got us well up from the water," exclaimed Digby, panting with his exertions. "If you do, the beast may be getting away, and escape us after all."

His caution was not unnecessary, for, breaking from the hook, no sooner was Digby's grasp off him than away he wriggled at a great rate towards the water. It was no easy matter to catch him, for he turned round with his savage head and made desperate bites at the lads, who were in hot pursuit of him.

"Oh, stop him!" shouted Digby, almost crying in his agitation. "Oh, he'll be off,--he'll be off!"

Nearer and nearer the water he wriggled; with a hook in his mouth, and the mauling he had got, he was not likely to find much pleasure in his future career; still, life is dear even to fish. He was almost at the edge of the bank, when Marshall seizing his geological hammer, which he had thrown down to help Digby, with it dealt the poor conger such a blow on the tail that in an instant it was paralysed, and though its jaws moved a little, it no longer made an attempt to reach its native element.

It was now voted that dinner-time had arrived, or rather that it was time to begin cooking the fish. Altogether a very good supply had been caught: besides the smelt, Toby brought two grey mullets, a foot in length; these, he said, were rarely caught with the hook, as they suck in their food. They do not often eat living creatures, but grub down at the bottom for offal or weeds. It is a very sagacious fish, and, when enclosed by a net, always makes the greatest efforts to escape by leaping over it, or by seeking for some opening. Only a very perfect net will secure them. In some parts the fishermen form an inner line of straw, or corks, and the mullets leaping over it, and finding themselves still enclosed, do not make a second attempt till there is time to draw them to the sh.o.r.e.

Power had done even more than he had promised, for he had caught a salmon-peel and three or four flounders, besides his conger; while the rest of the party, who had gone to another spot, had caught some ba.s.se, and some plaice, and other flat fish. The ba.s.se is like a freshwater perch in some respects, but it is not so rounded, nor has it the bright colours of the perch. The plaice and flounders were not very large.

"What funny twisted-head fellows they are," observed Digby, as he handed them to Toby to clean. "Well, it never did occur to me before I came here what a vast number of curious animals of all sorts live in the sea."

"I believe, if people would look for them, they'd find as many in the sea as on land," answered Toby. "Some of them are wonderful curious.

Just think of a big whale, and then of a little shrimp; and there are thousands of things smaller than shrimps which live in the sea, and quite as curious."

What a frying, and broiling, and boiling of fish took place; everybody was busy. Digby wanted, by the by, to remain in his wet clothes, but Toby would not let him, but made him strip, and then hung them up on the black rock, against which the sun was striking with full force. Here they quickly dried, while he sat near the fire, the b.u.t.t for his companions' jokes.

"Arrah, now," exclaimed Power, "would Mr and Mrs Heathcote ever mistake you for their own eldest son and heir of all their virtues and estates, if they were to come by and see you sitting for all the world like a little Irish spalpeen or a gipsy boy, before his camp fire, gutting fish?"

"It's hard, Power, after I helped you to save the conger, to laugh at me," said Digby. "He'll stick in your throat, depend on it."