The Two Admirals (56 page)

These Bowlderos were the servants that Sir Gervaise brought with him
from his house, having been born on his estate, and educated as
domestics in his own, or his father's family; and though long accustomed
to a man-of-war, as their ambition never rose above their ordinary
service, the steward held them exceedingly cheap. A severer punishment
could not be offered him, than to threaten to direct one of these common
menials to do any duty that, in the least, pertained to the profession.
The present menace had the desired effect, Galleygo losing no time in
critically examining the prize's rigging.

"I calls nothing extr'ornary in a Frenchman's rigging, Sir Jarvy,"
answered the steward, as soon as he felt sure of his fact; "their
dock-men have idees of their own, as to such things. Now there is
sum'mat hanging at the lee fore-yard-arm of that chap, that looks as if
it might be a top-gallant-stun'sail made up to be sent aloft and set,
but which stopped when it got as high as it is, on finding out that
there's no hamper over-head to spread it to."

"That's it, sir," put in Bunting. "Mr. Daly has run his woman up to the
fore-yard-arm, like a pirate."

"Woman!" repeated Galleygo—"do you call that 'ere thing-um-mee a woman,
Mr. Buntin'? I calls it a bundle of flags, made up to set, if there was
any thing to set 'em to."

"It's nothing but an Irish woman, Master Galleygo, as you'll see for
yourself, if you'll level this glass at it."

"I'll do that office myself," cried Sir Gervaise. "Have you any
curiosity, gentlemen, to read Mr. Daly's signal? Galleygo, open that
weather window, and clear away the books and writing-desk, that we may
have a look."

The orders were immediately obeyed, and the vice-admiral was soon seated
examining the odd figure that was certainly hanging at the lee
fore-yard-arm of the prize; a perfect nondescript as regarded all
nautical experience.

"Hang me, if I can make any thing of it. Greenly," said Sir Gervaise,
after a long look. "Do
you
take this seat, and try your hand at an
observation. It resembles a sort of a woman, sure enough."

"Yes, sir," observed Bunting, with the earnestness of a man who felt his
reputation involved in the issue, "I was certain that Mr. Daly has run
up the figure to let us know the name of the prize, and that for want of
a telegraph-book to signal the letters; and so I made sure of what I was
about, before I took the liberty to come below and report."

"And pray what do you make of it, Bunting? The figure-head might tell us
better, but that seems to be imperfect."

"The figure-head has lost all its bust, and one arm, by a shot," said
Greenly, turning the glass to the object named; "and I can tell Mr. Daly
that a part of the gammoning of his bowsprit is gone, too! That ship
requires looking to, Sir Gervaise; she'll have no foremast to-morrow
morning, if this wind stand! Another shot has raked the lower side of
her fore-top, and carried away half the frame. Yes, and there's been a
fellow at work, too—"

"Never mind the shot—never mind the shot, Greenly," interrupted the
vice-admiral. "A poor devil like him, couldn't have six of us at him, at
once, and expect to go 'shot free.' Tell us something of the woman."

"Well, Sir Gervaise, no doubt Daly has hoisted her as a symbol. Ay, no
doubt the ship is the Minerva, after all, for there's something on the
head like a helmet."

"It never can be the Minerva," said the vice-admiral, positively, "for
she
, I feel certain, is a frigate. Hand me the little book with a red
cover, Bunting; that near your hand; it has a list of the enemy's navy.
Here it is, '
la Minerve
, 32,
le capitaine de frégate, Mondon
. Built
in 1733, old and dull.' That settles the Minerva, for this list is the
last sent us by the admiralty."

"Then it must be the Pallas," rejoined Greenly, "for she wears a helmet,
too, and I am certain there is not only a cap to resemble a helmet, but
a Guernsey frock on the body to represent armour. Both Minerva and
Pallas, if I remember right, wore armour."

"This is coming nearer to the point,—hey! Greenly!" the vice-admiral
innocently chimed in; "let us look and see if the Pallas is a two-decker
or not. By George, there's no such name on the list. That's odd, now,
that the French should have one of these goddesses and not the other!"

"They never has any thing right, Sir Jarvy," Galleygo thrust in, by way
of commentary on the vice-admiral's and the captain's classical lore;
"and it's surprising to me that they should have any goddess at all,
seeing that they has so little respect for religion, in general."

Wycherly fidgeted, but respect for his superiors kept him silent. As for
Bunting, 'twas all the same to him, his father having been a purser in
the navy, and he himself educated altogether on board ship, and this,
too, a century since.

"It might not be amiss, Sir Gervaise," observed the captain, "to work
this rule backwards, and just look over the list until we find a
two-decked ship that
ought
to have a woman figure-head, which will
greatly simplify the matter. I've known difficult problems solved in
that mode."

The idea struck Sir Gervaise as a good one, and he set about the
execution of the project in good earnest. Just as he came to
l'Hécate
,
64, an exclamation from Greenly caught his attention, and he inquired
its cause.

"Look for yourself, Sir Gervaise; unless my eyes are good for nothing,
Daly is running a kedge up alongside of his woman."

"What, a kedge?—Ay, that is intended for an anchor, and it means Hope.
Every body knows that Hope carries an anchor,—hey! Wychecombe? Upon my
word, Daly shows ingenuity. Look for the Hope, in that list,
Bunting,—you will find the English names printed first, in the end of
the book."

"'The Hope, or
l' Esperance
,'" read the signal-officer; "'36,
lee
capitang dee frigate dee Courtraii
.'"

"A single-decked ship after all! This affair is as bad as the d—d
nullus
, ashore, there. I'll not be beaten in learning, however, by any
Frenchman who ever floated. Go below, Locker, and desire Doctor Magrath
to step up here, if he is not occupied with the wounded. He knows more
Latin than any man in the ship."

"Yes, Sir Jarvy, but this is French, you knows, your honour, and is'nt
as Latin, at all. I expects she'll turn out to have some name as no
modest person wishes to use, and we shall have to halter it."

"Ay, he's catted his anchor, sure enough; if the figure be not Hope, it
must be Faith, or Charity."

"No fear of them, Sir Jarvy; the French has no faith, nor no charity,
no, nor no bowels, as any poor fellow knows as has ever been wrecked on
their coast, as once happened to me, when a b'y. I looks upon 'em as no
better than so many heatheners, and perhaps that's the name of the ship.
I've seed heatheners, a hundred times, Sir Jarvy, in that sort of
toggery."

"What, man, did you ever see a heathen with an anchor?—one that will
weigh three hundred, if it will weigh a pound?"

"Perhaps not, your honour, with a downright hanchor, but with sum'mat
like a killog. But, that's no hanchor, a'ter all, but only a kedge,
catted hanchor-fashion, sir."

"Here comes Magrath, to help us out of the difficulty; and we'll
propound the matter to him."

The vice-admiral now explained the whole affair to the surgeon, frankly
admitting that the classics of the cabin were at fault, and throwing
himself on the gun-room for assistance. Magrath was not a little amused,
as he listened, for this was one of his triumphs, and he chuckled not a
little at the dilemma of his superiors.

"Well, Sir Jairvis," he answered, "ye might do warse than call a council
o' war on the matter; but if it's the name ye'll be wanting, I can help
ye to that, without the aids of symbols, and signs, and hyeroglyphics of
any sort. As we crossed the vessel's wake, a couple of hours since, I
read it on her stern, in letters of gold. It's
la Victoire
, or the
Victory; a most unfortunate cognomen for an unlucky ship. She's a French
victory, however, ye'll remember, gentlemen!"

"That must be a mistake, Magrath; for Daly has shown an anchor, yonder;
and Victory carries no anchor."

"It's hard to say, veece-admiral, one man's victory being another man's
defeat. As for Mr. Daly's image, it's just an
Irish
goddess; and
allowances must be made for the country."

Sir Gervaise laughed, invited the gentlemen to help demolish the
breakfast, and sent orders on deck to hoist the answering flag. At a
later day, Daly, when called on for an explanation, asserted that the
armour and helmet belonged to Victory, as a matter of course; though he
admitted that he had at first forgotten the anchor; "but, when I
did
run it up, they read it aboard the ould Planter, as if it had been just
so much primmer."

"There's beauty in the deep:—
The wave is bluer than the sky;
And, though the light shines bright on high,
More softly do the sea-gems glow,
That sparkle in the depths below;
The rainbow's tints are only made
When on the waters they are laid.
And sun and moon most sweetly shine
Upon the ocean's level brine.
There's beauty in the deep."

BRAINARD.

As Daly was the recognised jester of the fleet, his extraordinary
attempt to announce his vessel's name was received as a characteristic
joke, and it served to laugh at until something better offered. Under
the actual circumstances of the two squadrons, however, it was soon
temporarily forgotten in graver things, for few believed the collision
that had already taken place was to satisfy a man of the known
temperament of the commander-in-chief. As the junction of the rear
division was the only thing wanting to bring on a general engagement, as
soon as the weather should moderate a little, every ship had careful
look-outs aloft, sweeping the horizon constantly with glasses, more
particularly towards the east and north-east. The gale broke about noon,
though the wind still continued fresh from the same quarter as before.
The sea began to go down, however, and at eight bells material changes
had occurred in the situations of both fleets. Some of these it may be
necessary to mention.

The ship of the French admiral,
le Foudroyant
, and
le Scipion
, had
been received, as it might be, in the arms of their own fleet in the
manner already mentioned; and from this moment, the movement of the
whole force was, in a measure, regulated by that of these two crippled
vessels. The former ship, by means of her lower sails, might have
continued to keep her station in the line, so long as the gale lasted;
but the latter unavoidably fell off, compelling her consorts to keep
near, or to abandon her to her fate. M. de Vervillin preferred the
latter course. The consequences were, that, by the time the sun was in
the zenith, his line, a good deal extended, still, and far from regular,
was quite three leagues to leeward of that of the English. Nor was this
all: at that important turn in the day, Sir Gervaise Oakes was enabled
to make sail on all his ships, setting the fore and mizzen-top-sails
close-reefed; while
la Victoire
, a fast vessel, was enabled to keep in
company by carrying whole courses. The French could not imitate this,
inasmuch as one of their crippled vessels had nothing standing but a
foremast. Sir Gervaise had ascertained, before the distance became too
great for such observations, that the enemy was getting ready to send up
new top-masts, and the other necessary spars on board the admiral, as
well as jury lower-masts in
le Scipion
; though the sea would not yet
permit any very positive demonstrations to be made towards such an
improvement. He laid his own plans for the approaching night
accordingly; determining not to worry his people, or notify the enemy of
his intentions, by attempting any similar improvement in the immediate
condition of his prize.

About noon, each ship's number was made in succession, and the question
was put if she had sustained any material injury in the late conflict.
The answers were satisfactory in general, though one or two of the
vessels made such replies as induced the commander-in-chief to resort to
a still more direct mode of ascertaining the real condition of his
fleet. In order to effect this important object, Sir Gervaise waited two
hours longer, for the double purpose of letting all the messes get
through with their dinners, and to permit the wind to abate and the sea
to fall, as both were now fast doing. At the expiration of that time,
however, he appeared on the poop, summoning Bunting to his customary
duty.

At 2 P.M. it blew a whole top-sail breeze, as it is called; but
the sea being still high, and the ships close-hauled, the vice-admiral
did not see fit to order any more sail. Perhaps he was also influenced
by a desire not to increase his distance from the enemy, it being a part
of his plan to keep M. de Vervillin in plain sight so long as the day
continued, in order that he might have a tolerable idea of the position
of his fleet, during the hours of darkness. His present intention was to
cause his vessels to pass before him in review, as a general orders his
battalions to march past a station occupied by himself and staff, with a
view to judge by his own eye of their steadiness and appearance.
Vice-Admiral Oakes was the only officer in the British navy who ever
resorted to this practice; but he did many things of which other men
never dreamed, and, among the rest, he did not hesitate to attack double
his force, when an occasion offered, as has just been seen. The officers
of the fleet called these characteristic reviews "Sir Jarvy's
field-days," finding a malicious pleasure in comparing any thing out of
the common nautical track, to some usage of the soldiers.