Part 18

FOOTNOTES:

'I well remember,' says a naval surgeon, 'the above melancholy event, and particularly from one of the survivors being drafted on board the ship to which I belonged, (the Thunderer, then in the Dardanelles.) The poor fellow became my patient; he complained of no pain but that which arose from the horrible recollection of his having tasted human flesh to preserve his life. This preyed so deeply on his mind, that it rendered him incapable of performing any duty, and when I saw him sinking under the heavy load, I felt it to be my duty to order him to the hospital, that he might be invalided and sent home.'

THE FLORA.

Early in January, 1807, H.M. ship Flora, of 36 guns, under the command of Captain Otway Bland, had been cruizing off the Texel, for the purpose of reconnoitring the ships of the enemy. This object having been effected, they shaped a course towards Harlingen, the captain ordering the pilots not to run the slightest risk, but to give the sands of the island sufficient berth, so as not to endanger the Flora; and so often did he reiterate these instructions, that the pilots appeared hurt that their nautical skill and knowledge of the track should be doubted. However, to the astonishment of all on board, and to the dismay of the pilots, the ship took the ground, and struck on the Shelling Reef, about noon on the 18th of January. It was only just past high water when she struck, and there was therefore no chance of getting her off till the next tide. In the meantime all weight was removed from aloft, and the topmasts were lowered over the side, to shore her up. Towards evening the wind increased to a gale, and a heavy swell came on, which prevented their getting out a bower anchor, although a raft was made for the purpose; but the night became so dark, and the sea so rough, they were obliged to relinquish the attempt, and resolved to wait with patience for high water, lightening the vessel as much as possible, by starting the water, and heaving most of the shot and other heavy articles overboard. All hands took their turn at the pumps, and worked vigorously; yet the water gained rapidly upon the vessel: this was partly attributable to her having struck amidships, and having a hole through her bottom, instead of her side, to supply the cistern. At about nine o'clock P.M., she began to heave, but as the tide made, the wind freshened, the sea rose, and she brought home the stream anchor, backed by the kedge, and forged on the sand. At half-past nine o'clock, a last effort was made to get her off, by letting go a bower anchor with a spring abaft, which brought her head round. They then made all sail and forced her over the reef. The ship once more floated in deep water: but this object was not attained without a most serious loss. The rudder had been carried away, and with it the launch and the jolly-boat, so that only one anchor and the worst boat were left for service. After those moments of breathless anxiety, and after giving utterance to a short but fervent expression of thankfulness that they had got clear of the reef, the men, almost worn out as they were, by so many hours of continued labour, again betook themselves to the pumps, in hopes of keeping the water under until they could reach an English port. But in spite of every exertion, in spite of continued bailing and pumping, and though a thrumbed sail was under the ship's bottom, the water gained to eight feet. As the danger increased, so did the vigour of the men. All was order, energy, and steady obedience throughout. The captain perceiving that it would be impossible to keep the vessel much longer afloat, gave orders to wear ship, and run her on the enemy's shore; nor could even this be done without much difficulty and danger, as it was necessary to let go their last anchor. Most of the guns were now thrown overboard, and everything done to lighten the ship; and about half-past six A.M., on the 19th, her head was brought round, and, steered by the sails and a cable veered astern, towards the islands. The weather was becoming more gloomy and threatening, and before ten o'clock A.M. the vessel was so terribly shaken, that it became absolutely necessary to cut away the main and mizen masts, leaving the foremast standing, with sail set, to force the ship on as much as possible, and also to prevent her drifting off with the ebb, or with a change of wind. Although the dangerous situation of the Flora was clearly perceived by the people on shore, no boat put out to her assistance, the authorities having forbidden them to render such aid on pain of death.

Captain Bland, during his cruize on these seas, had allowed the fishing-boats of the enemy to range unmolested, and had given strict orders that not a fish should be taken from them without payment; but even these boats now came near the labouring ship and passed on, leaving her and her crew to perish. About four o'clock in the afternoon when she seemed to be sinking, she took the ground and there remained, surrounded by breakers, the crew in vain firing guns, and making other signals of distress, which were totally disregarded. All hands that could be spared from the pumps had been employed in making rafts, and these were now launched into the surf, and about one hundred and thirty of the crew got upon them, and were fortunate enough to gain the high land.

Captain Bland, with a few officers and men, pushed off in the barge, the only boat that was left, and after rowing for eighteen hours without any sustenance, they reached the Island of Amoland, where they were made prisoners.

The rest of the crew, who had chosen to stay by the ship, remained on board for four days and nights, and, excepting nine, who perished from the severity of the weather, they all got safe on shore. The above is a plain, unvarnished account, taken from the narrative of Captain Bland: it is a true tale, and needs not the aid of romance to give it interest. For more than twenty-four hours the crew suffered the horrors of uncertainty; their vessel thrown upon a hostile shore, whose inhabitants were forbidden on pain of death to assist them, whilst of all their boats one only remained. Yet, even during this time of trial and danger, discipline was not for a moment abandoned; no man's heart appeared to fail him; each one performed his duty with cheerfulness and alacrity; and nobly did they all earn the praise bestowed on them by their commander.

'I cannot help paying here,' said Captain Bland, 'the last tribute of praise to my crew; they behaved with order, respect, and perfect coolness to the last moment; nor would they quit the ship's side in the barge, though at the risk of her being dashed to pieces, till I took the place they had reserved for me.'

The gallantry and seamanship displayed by Captain Otway Bland, when in command of the Espoir, 14-gun brig, in his attack and subsequent capture of a Genoese pirate, well deserve a place in these pages.

On the 7th of August, 1798, the Espoir was sailing near Gibraltar in charge of part of a convoy, when a large vessel, which appeared to be a man-of-war, was seen steering apparently with the intention of cutting off some of the convoy. Captain Bland, notwithstanding the superiority of the force with which he had to contend, determined upon attacking the stranger, which proved to be the Liguria, mounted with 26 guns of various calibres.

On approaching within hail, an officer on board the Liguria ordered the commander of the Espoir to surrender, or he would sink his ship, enforcing the demand by one shot, and afterwards by a whole broadside. The fire was returned in a spirited manner by the Espoir, and was kept up on both sides by the great guns and musketry for upwards of three hours, when the captain of the Liguria hailed the Espoir, begging her captain not to fire any more, as he was a Genoese. Upon this, Captain Bland desired him to lower his sails, and come on board. As no attention was paid to this demand, and the Genoese appeared to be attempting some manoeuvre, the Espoir poured in another broadside, which the Liguria returned; but on the Espoir tacking to fire her opposite broadside, her opponent surrendered.

The crew of the Liguria consisted, of one hundred and twenty men of all nations, whilst that of the Espoir was but eighty men, of which the master was killed, and six men wounded.

Captain Bland died in 1810.

THE AJAX.

On the evening of the 14th of February, 1807, H.M. ship Ajax, 74 guns, commanded by Captain the Hon. Sir Henry Blackwood, lay at anchor off the mouth of the Dardanelles, in company with the squadron of Vice-Admiral Sir John Duckworth. The wind, which during the day had been boisterous, was partially lulled, and in the clear moonlight every object was visible with a distinctness almost equal to that of day.

The scene from the deck of the Ajax was one of surpassing beauty and interest. The bright moonbeams rested on the waters, and left a silvery track upon the waves. Ahead and astern, the lofty masts of the squadron tapered darkly towards the sky, whilst the outline of every rope and spar was sharply defined against the clear blue vault of heaven. Every man in the ship, from the commander to the youngest boy, could feel and understand this natural beauty; but there were many on board the squadron who had still higher enjoyment, as they gazed on those isles and shores which recalled the classic verse of Homer and of Virgil. For them every island, cape, river, and mountain was fraught with interest. There lay Tenedos, renowned of old; there the mountain isle of Imbros stood out in bold relief from the snow-clad summits of Samothracia. In the distance appeared Mount Ida, and at its foot lay stretched the plains of Troy, o'er which the 'gulfy Simois' wanders still as it did of old. There is Cape Sigæum, and on it the tomb of Patroclus, round which Achilles dragged the godlike Hector's corpse; there, too, the ashes of Achilles repose near those of his friend; and a little further north, on the Rhoetian promontory, is the tomb of 'mighty Ajax.' Homer, Euripides, and Virgil have, it is true, a very small share in the studies of a youthful sailor, as they do not form an essential ingredient of a nautical education; but an English gentleman, although his head be crammed with mathematics and equations, always contrives to pick up enough of classic lore to enable him thoroughly to enjoy such a scene as that we have attempted to describe. He is much to be pitied who cannot appreciate such enjoyment; but in these days, when the schoolmaster is aboard, and when, by the wise liberality of the Government, our ships are furnished with useful and interesting books, none need of necessity be deprived of the exquisite pleasure which is to be derived from visiting scenes which have been 'dignified either by wisdom, bravery, or virtue.' We are constantly reminded that 'knowledge is power;' but it might be well to impress upon youngsters, that 'knowledge is enjoyment.' There is, indeed, no acquirement in literature or science that will not at some time or other be productive of real pleasure.

We have lingered on this subject longer than we should have done, for we must now relate how soon the tranquillity of that fair scene was disturbed--how for a time another light, redder and fiercer than that of the moon, shone on the blue waters of the Hellespont.

Soon after nine o'clock P.M., Captain Blackwood had received from his first lieutenant the report of the safety of the Ajax, and all, except the officers and men who were on duty, had retired to their berths. A very short time, however, had elapsed, before the stillness of the night was broken by the appalling cry of 'Fire!' It must be a fearful sound to hear--the cry of 'Fire!' as awful as the voice of him who

Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night, And would have told him half his Troy was burned.

The officer of the watch instantly informed Captain Blackwood of the alarm. He hastened upon deck, and found too surely that flames were bursting from the after-part. He gave orders to beat to quarters--to fire the guns as signals of distress, and directed Lieutenant Wood and a midshipman to proceed in one of the boats to all the ships of the squadron to request assistance.

These orders were promptly given, and promptly obeyed; but who can enter fully into the feelings of Captain Blackwood at that awfully critical moment. Here was his ship and six hundred men threatened with immediate destruction, and each one of that six hundred looked to him for direction and guidance.

In order to inspire others with courage and confidence, he must display decision in every look and gesture. Whatever others might do, his lip must not tremble, nor his eyelid quiver--no look of apprehension must be seen on his brow. He must stand forth calm and undaunted--the recollection of tender ties and loving hearts might wring his soul with agony, but these thoughts must be banished; the safety of six hundred human beings depended, under God, on his firmness and exertion, and every eye was directed to him in anxious inquiry. When the ship's company had turned out, every man took his station calmly and in obedience to orders.

The captain, followed by several of his officers, went down to the cockpit, from whence issued clouds of smoke. Every effort was made to extinguish the flames in that part of the ship, but they increased so rapidly, it soon became impossible for any one to remain below. Several of the men who were throwing down water fell from suffocation with the buckets in their hands. To give more air to the men so employed, the lower-deck ports were hauled up; but this rather increasing than diminishing the density of the smoke, they were closed again, and the after-hatchway shut down. The carpenter's attempt to scuttle the after-part of the ship was also ineffectual.

Ten or fifteen minutes only had elapsed after the first alarm had been given, before the flames raged with such fury, that it was impossible to hoist out the boats; the jolly-boat had fortunately been lowered in obedience to the captain's orders when he first went upon deck. As the flames burst up the main-hatchway, dividing the fore from the after-part of the ship, the captain ordered all hands to the forecastle, and seeing that it was utterly beyond human power to prevent the destruction of the vessel, he desired every man to provide for his own safety.

The silent plague through the green timber eats, And vomits out a tardy flame by fits; Down to the keels, and upwards to the sails, The fire descends, or mounts, but still prevails; Nor buckets pour'd, nor strength of human hand, Can the victorious element withstand. DRYDEN'S Æneid, Book V.

The luckless ship was now wrapped in flames from amidships to taffrail, and the scene of horror is beyond the powers of description. Hundreds of human beings were assembled together on the forecastle, bowsprit, and sprit-sail-yard. No boat had yet come to their assistance. Their perilous situation had levelled all distinction of rank; men and officers were huddled together, watching with despairing hearts the progress of the fiery element, which threatened to hurry them so quickly into eternity. Volumes of black smoke rose in huge pillars from all parts of the ship, whilst far above the hissing and crackling of the flames, as they ricked the masts and rigging, rose the shrieks and death yells of the hapless men, who, unable to gain the forecastle, had sought safety aloft, where the flames had now reached them.

Some, rather than endure the horrible suspense, trusted themselves to the mercy of the waves, and by plunging overboard, ended their lives and sufferings in a watery grave. Many, in their agony, fell on their knees, imploring God for that help which they despaired of receiving from mortal agency. Perhaps these men would not have thought of prayer to heaven in face of a human foe, but now that the 'last enemy' glared upon them in so fearful a shape, they felt compelled to fly to Him who hath said, 'Call upon me in the day of trouble.'

The booming of the guns, as they exploded, echoed far and wide over the waters, and added to the horrors of that awful night.