CHAPTER IV
A Naval Encounter
In the ordinary way the immediate prospect of an encounter at seamight be expected to rouse qualms in the breast of a novice, and wecannot affirm that Tom would have been any exception to the ruleon this his first meeting aboard an English frigate with a Frenchman-of-war. But there was so much else to attract his attention.Even in those days the wooden walls of our stout ships containedsufficient to interest even a dullard, and to a lad of active brain,as was our hero, there were things to watch and marvel at, while themen themselves grouped in the 'tween decks were quite a study. Theystood about their guns stripped to the waist, joking and merry, themaster of each gun with his eye on the sights. Close at hand a ladsat on a long narrow tub filled to the brim with powder.
"Powder monkeys we call 'em," said Jim in a hoarse whisper. "Theyoung villains! They're always up to some sort o' mischief, and whenit comes to fighting, blest if they wouldn't take on the whole ofBoney's fleet alone. They ain't the lads to squeak. If we fetch upalongside the Frenchman, and there's a call for boarding parties,them imps is amongst the first to answer."
"Stand ready!" the order came at this moment, and turning his headTom caught a glimpse of Mr. Riley, still with a long glass beneathhis arm, his sword belted to his side, and his shapely form bent soas to allow him to peer through one of the ports. "Stand ready, men,"he shouted. "Gun layers train your sights on the enemy and aim low.Between wind and water is the mark, lads!"
The crew of the guns answered him with a cheer, and for a while gunlayers stretched over the weapons they commanded, sighting for theenemy. Tom watched as Jim squinted along the sights, and then peeredout at the French ship of the line. She was bowling along before afresh breeze, heeling well over, so that half her deck showed. Hecould see a mass of men on it, and others running to and fro, whilequite a number were clambering into the rigging.
"Shows she means to come right up close," said Jim in his gruffway. "That'll suit us nicely. Hammer and tongs is the best sort offighting for us boys, and we don't get it too often. She's going torun right in and when there's a broadside it'll be a close one, andthunder won't be in it."
"Stand by to fire!" was heard through the 'tween decks, while aninstant later there came a roar from the deck above, a tremblingand shaking of the whole vessel which all could feel, and then therumble of wheels as the guns were run in, sponged out and reloaded.By now the enemy had disappeared from sight behind a huge cloud ofsmoke, which, however, was whisked away swiftly by the breeze. Itwas a minute later, perhaps, when the French battleship was againvisible, that Mr. Riley gave the order to fire, and Tom was witnessof the result for the first time in his life. Jim touched the vent ofthe gun with his portfire, and instantly a squirt of flame and smokeshot upward. There was a huge commotion in the gun itself. Thoughbraced into position by numerous cables it started backward, drawingthem as tight as iron bars, while the wheels thudded heavily on theirrunners. The commotion was accompanied by that of every other gun onthat deck in the broadside, while the ship herself shook from endto end. The roar of the discharge was indescribable, and deafenedhim, while the 'tween decks was instantly filled with volumes ofsulphurous smoke.
"Slack off! Haul her back, boys!" came in stentorian notes from Jim."Run her in quick. Now with the sponge rods, and we'll have a secondcharge into her before the smoke's cleared."
Five minutes later Mr. Riley's voice was heard. "Stand by for anotherbroadside," he bellowed. "Double shot your guns next time--ah!"
The frigate quivered from end to end; she seemed to have been struckby a cyclone. An iron hail beat on her sides, bursting them in inmany directions, while splinters of iron and wood flew across the'tween decks, striking men down in many directions. In one briefsecond the orderliness of the place was transformed to the most utterdisorder, as the enemy had answered the frigate's broadside with oneof her own. Tom looked about him wonderingly, dazed by the commotionand astounded at what he saw. For by now the wind blowing in at theopen ports had cleared all the smoke away, and he could see all thatwas happening in the 'tween decks. There lay the gun on his right awreck, turned on its side, its muzzle crushed out of sight, two ofits wheels broken and half-buried in the deck. What had before beena square porthole was now an irregular, torn opening, through whicha vast expanse of sea could be watched. But it was the poor wretcheswho had manned the gun who claimed his greatest attention. Five ofthem lay mangled upon the deck, with pools of blood accumulatingabout them and draining off towards the scuppers in trickles andstreams. On the port side, opposite where the gun had stood, threemen had been struck by the missile, and lay silent and motionless.Elsewhere there were rents in the side of the frigate, and men layabout in all postures, some moaning, others silent, nursing a woundedarm or leg. This was war; this was the treatment meted out by onenation to another.
But of loss of discipline there was none. If the 'tween decks was indisorder there was order amongst the men, and no flinching. Alreadythe surgeon's mates and helpers were carrying the wounded awaytowards the ladder leading to the cockpit, while at every gun stoodits crew, immovable and ready, waiting the word of the officer. Asfor the enemy, the shapely lines of the French man-of-war had changedwonderfully, for she was so near now that one could see distinctly.The white deck, still careened towards the frigate, was seamed andscarred and torn. One mast lay over her rail, the sails towing inthe water, and her sides were marked by shot holes, two of her portshaving been converted into one by an enormous rent that extendedbetween them.
A dull cheer resounded through the frigate; the men in the 'tweendecks took it up lustily, and then came again that commotion above.The vessel shivered, shot and flame and smoke belched from the portson the upper deck, the roar being followed once again by the rumbleof gun wheels on their metal runners.
"Fire!" Mr. Riley stood halfway up the ladder leading to the upperdeck and waved his cocked hat at the crews under his own command.Crash! went the broadside. Tom watched the powder at the vent squirtupward in flame and smoke as on a previous occasion, and then sprangto the cables as Jim's husky voice called to his own crew to draw thegun in and reload.
"CRASH! WENT THE BROADSIDE"]
"Double shot; don't forget," bellowed Mr. Riley, and obedient to theorder the loaders thrust first one and then a second huge iron ballinto the gaping muzzles. In the middle of the operation there camea resounding discharge from the enemy, while huge columns of smokehid her sides. But the shot failed to strike the frigate, for a fewseconds earlier the commander had put his helm up and had sheeredoff towards the Frenchman. It was a clever manoeuvre, and made awonderful difference to the fight in progress. For the enemy hadreceived four successive broadsides now, and had returned only oneeffective one, and that not so effective as it might have been hadthe ships been nearer. Added to that, it was less than five minuteslater when the gunners on the port side got their sights aligned onthe enemy, and a simultaneous broadside was delivered by the guns ofthe upper and 'tween decks. Then the commander swung his helm againand made across the stern of the Frenchman.
"Stand ready," sang out Mr. Riley again, his eyes glued upon theman-of-war. "Layers concentrate on the stern. In one minute, men; inone minute we shall be there. Now! Fire!"
Running round in a circle after crossing in the wake of theFrenchman, the frigate had gone about after emptying her completeport broadside, and had then swept round in rear of the enemy.It was a manoeuvre which, if not quickly carried out, might haveended in disaster. But nothing occurred to disturb it, while theFrenchman, impeded by his broken mast and the sail dragging inthe water--and slowed considerably thereby--was unable to counterthe movement by swinging also. It followed, therefore, that thefrigate had an enormous advantage, and, making the most of this,crossed and recrossed the rear of the enemy, emptying first thestarboard broadside and then every gun on the port side. As for theFrench battleship, her guns were useless. Not one of her broadsidescould be brought to bear, and though she sheered off to the southa little, the
commander was at once able to alter his own positioncorrespondingly.
"It's a victory," said Jim, with elation. "The man that laid thegun that brought down that mast deserves to be made an admiral thisminute. It's saved lives aboard this ship, boys. It's won the battle."
"Shall we board her now?" asked Tom, who was densely ignorant ofnaval matters.
"Board her! Not us!" cried Jim. "Where's the use? She carries two orthree men to every man jack of us, and would have all the chancesif we boarded, not that I say as we wouldn't do the business. Butwe've the best of it like this. She's cut that mast adrift, butit'll be hours before she can refit, and meanwhile we've the legs ofher. We've only to keep here, astern, plugging shot into her all thewhile, and she's bound to give in before long. Of course she can't dothat yet awhile. That wouldn't be fighting, and I'm bound to say thatthe Frenchies are good at the game, almost as good as we are. She'llhold on and endeavour to best us; but she'll have to haul down hercolours before very long. Ah! What'd I say? Look at 'em!"
The flag of France flying aloft on the enemy was seen to flutter. Itdropped a foot or two and then came down with a run. Instantly ahoarse bellow resounded through the frigate. Men gripped hands andcheered, the shouts coming from every deck. Even the wounded, who hadnot all been removed, sat up with an effort and cheered as best theycould.
"Silence, men," came from Mr. Riley at this moment, and turning theysaw him standing halfway up the ladder, bent so that the men couldsee his face. "Stand to your guns all the while; don't draw chargestill you get the order. Jim there, from No. 4 gun, send me four ofyour men to join the boarding party."
Tom noticed that the officer had been wounded, for he carried one armin a sling, and there were stains of blood on his breeches. He waswondering how he had come by the wound, when Jim struck him heavilyon the back.
"Avast dreamin' there, me hearty," he shouted hoarsely, still elatedat what had happened. "Get off to the officer and go aboard the ship.You'll see something to interest you."
Tom wanted no more coaxing; he dropped the cable on which he had beenhauling and went at a run towards the ladder, followed by the othermen. They kept close on the heels of Mr. Riley, and in a twinklingwere on the main deck. There the commander was now stationed, andabout him a group of officers and men.
"Ah, there you are, Mr. Riley!" he exclaimed. "We'll go aboard in thecutter, taking three men from each deck. Step in, my lads."
Tom scrambled into the boat with the crew, and watched as it waslowered away. He was filled with amazement, first that a boat of suchproportions as the cutter could support so many men when hung to herdavits, and then that she could be safely lowered with such a load tothe water. Meanwhile he noticed the high sides of the frigate, theofficer up on the quarterdeck, and the men of the watch away aloft inthe rigging. The frigate lay inert, her sails flapping, while, almosta quarter of a mile away now, the French ship lay in the water,slowly heaving up and down, with a peculiar and significant twist inone of her masts.
"Struck by our broadsides as we passed and repassed," Mr. Riley toldhim as they were lowered away, for the officer happened to be closeto our hero. "She had bad luck. It's rare that one brings down a mastat the first discharge, and that of course proved her undoing; theloss of the second makes her useless for fighting purposes. This hasbeen a gallant action and will give us no end of credit. Ah, theregoes a recall gun!"
A spout of flame and smoke belched from the frigate a little abovethe heads of the men in the cutter, for the latter had now reachedthe water, and turning his head Tom watched the ball dischargedstrike the sea some two hundred yards ahead of the small sloop thathad been sailing in company of the battleship, and which had nowchanged her course.
"She'll not disobey the order," reflected Mr. Riley. "Once we areaboard the enemy the frigate could sink that vessel within tenminutes. There go her sails aback; she'll swing round and come inlike a docile dog. Now, lad, clamber aboard when we reach the ship;you come as one of my escort."
"You're wounded, sir," said Tom. "Let me fasten that sling for youagain; it's too long, and doesn't support the arm."
He undid the knot with the help of fingers and teeth and thenrearranged the sling. By the time he had finished they were under thecounter of the French battleship, to which a man at the stern andbows of the cutter clung with a boathook. At once a midshipman sprangat a dangling rope ladder and went swarming up with the agility of amonkey, two of the crew following. Tom picked up a coil of rope andwithout a question made a noose fast round the waist of the officerwho had already befriended him.
"I'll get aboard and help to haul you up, sir," he said. "You'd nevermanage to clamber up that ladder with one arm wounded."
He waited for no orders, but, springing at the ladder, wentscrambling up, the end of the rope secured between his teeth. Aminute later Mr. Riley was being hoisted to the deck of the Frenchbattleship. Then the commander followed, and after him more of thecrew, with two officers.
Tom found himself looking down upon a scene which was almostindescribable; for the ship had been cruelly mauled by the broadsidesof the frigate. There were a dozen holes in her deck, where shothad penetrated, while in many places the rails were driven in. Adismounted gun lay in one of the scuppers, with part of her crewcrushed beneath it; and from end to end of the ship there weresigns of the awful havoc the iron tempest had created. Men lay inall directions and in all postures. The damaged mast swung by thestarboard halyards and threatened to fall inboard at any moment,while a huge stretch of crumpled and shot-holed canvas covered oneportion of the deck. To add to the scene of ruin, smoke and flameswere belching from a hatch towards the stern of the quarterdeck, andsome fifty sailors were endeavouring to quench the conflagrationwith water cast from buckets. Almost opposite the spot where theladder dangled, and where the victors had come aboard, was a group ofofficers, and in their centre one seated on a chair, pallid to thelips and obviously wounded. The commander went towards him instantlyand took him by the hand.
"You are hurt?" he asked. "You have fought your ship gallantly, butfortune was against you. Go to your quarters, please. I will take nosword from an officer of such courage."
He put aside the sword that was offered him so feebly, and signed tomen of his crew to lift the injured officer. Then he shook hands withthe other Frenchmen present, many of whom shed tears as they replacedtheir swords in their scabbards.
"Ah, monsieur," said one, who seemed to be the second in command, "itwas the fortune of war, but bad fortune for us. With that mast shotaway we were helpless, and then your broadsides poured into our sterntore the lengths of the decks, and did terrible damage. Our poorfellows were shot down in heaps. War, monsieur, is a terror."
None could fail to admit that who visited the French ship, for whathad been a well-found, trim vessel was now a shambles. It turned Tomsick and faint when he looked about him, so that he was forced tocling to the rail. But a moment later, when Mr. Riley called him, hewas able to pull himself together.
"We're to go aboard the sloop and see what she is," he called. "Helpto lower me into the cutter."
Half an hour later Tom clambered up the side of the smaller vessel,and hauled his officer up after him. They found a French midshipmanin command of a crew of five, while beneath the hatches there werethree prisoners.
"Release them," Mr. Riley ordered; and, taking a couple of the Frenchcrew with him, Tom saw the hatch lifted, and called to the men belowto come up. The smart uniform of an officer showed through the squarehatch at once, and in a moment or two a youth stood on the deckbefore him, whom one would have said was British to the backbone.
"Ensign Jack Barwood, 60th Rifles, sir," he reported, drawinghimself up in front of Mr. Riley and saluting. "Going out to join myregiment, this little sloop in which I had taken passage was held upby a French man-of-war. Our men were taken off, that is, the crew.I and two of my own men were left here as prisoners. We heard heavyfiring, and guessed there was an action. What has happened?"
Mr. Riley
turned and pointed at the French prize won by the frigate."We beat her," he said, with pride in his tones. "You've had luck toescape so early from a French prison. Where were you bound for?"
"In the first place, Oporto," came the answer. "Later, as a prisoner,for Bayonne. Now, I suppose, we shall have to return to England?"
As it turned out, however, it was to Oporto that the little sloopmade.
"The frigate makes for home at once," Mr. Riley reported, when he hadrowed back to the ship, and had again come out to the sloop. "Shesails in company with her prize, and no doubt the homecoming will bea fine triumph. I have orders to take this sloop to Oporto, there tohand over this young fellow to the authorities."
He pointed to Tom and smiled, while the ensign, turning uponour hero, surveyed him with amazement, and with some amount ofsuperciliousness if the truth be told.
"Pardon, sir," he said, "I don't understand."
"Of course not," came the smiling answer; "nor does he. Come here,Tom."
Our hero, as may be imagined, was just as dumbfounded as the ensign;for though Mr. Riley had been wonderfully kind to him from thebeginning, his manner had suddenly changed. He addressed him as ifhe were an equal, not as if he were one of the crew.
"I'll explain," he smiled, seeing the bewilderment expressed by bothyoung fellows. "While the action was passing between us and theman-of-war our lookouts reported a sail in the offing. She has comeup to us since, and turns out to be a smaller frigate than ourselves.But the point is this--she left the Thames after us, and hascarried a brisk breeze with her all the way. She asked at once forinformation concerning a young fellow brought aboard just before weweighed, who had been impressed by a gang having quarters near LondonBridge. That, sir, is the young fellow."
He pointed at Tom, whom the ensign still regarded in amazement.
"The whole thing has been cleared up, of course," said Mr. Riley."There is no longer any doubt that this gentleman is the son of Mr.Septimus John Clifford, wine merchant, of London Bridge."
"Eh?" suddenly interjected the ensign, staring hard at Tom."Clifford, of London Bridge. Well, I'm bothered! Why, Tom, don't youknow me?"
It must be confessed that our hero was somewhat taken aback. In thisyoung officer so much above himself, clad in the handsome uniformof the 60th Rifles, he had not recognized an old friend. Indeed hisattention had been centred on his own officer. But now, when JackBarwood lifted his cap, Tom recognized him at once, and gave vent toa shout of delight.
"Why, it's you!" he cried, gripping the hand extended. "Haven't seenyou since--now when did we meet last?"
"Time you licked that cub of a grocer's boy," laughed Jack, whoseemed to be just such another as our hero, and who was evidently ajovial fellow. "He passed when we were with your cousin, and grinnedand sauced you. You were at him in a jiffy."
Mr. Riley laughed loudly when he heard what was passing. "Why, he'sbeen at one of our men aboard the frigate," he cried. "Hammered himbadly just before we fell in with the Frenchman. He's a tiger."
"He's a demon to fight, is Tom, sir," laughed Jack. "Ask him how webecame acquainted."
"Eh? How?" asked the officer curiously, and then pressed the questionwhen he saw that Tom had gone a crimson colour and was lookingsheepish. "Eh?" he repeated.
"He's pretending to have forgotten," shouted Jack, enjoying thesituation. "I'll tell the tale. It was at school one day. Tom waschewing toffee, mine had disappeared from a pocket. I tackled himwith the theft, and we went hammer and tongs for one another. It wasa busy time for us for some ten minutes."
"Ah!" smiled Mr. Riley. "Who won?"
"Drawn battle," exclaimed Tom, somewhat sulkily.
"I had a licking," laughed Jack. "It was a certainty for him from thebeginning."
"Not surprised," came from the officer. "And the toffee?"
"Eh?" asked Jack.
"The toffee you accused him of stealing?" asked Mr. Riley. "You foundit later?"
"In another pocket--yes," admitted Jack, with a delightful grin."I deserved that hiding; it made us fast friends. So Tom's beenimpressed."
"By the machinations of his cousin."
That caused Tom to lift his head and come nearer. He had wonderedtime and again how that impressment had been brought about, whetherby accident or design, and had never been able to bring himself tobelieve that Jose was responsible. Mr. Riley's words made him openhis ears.
"You are sure, sir?" he asked.
"The commander has letters from your father with positive proof.However, things seemed to have happened fortunately. You are to betaken to Oporto after all, and here you meet with an old friend.Things couldn't have been better. Now I shall leave you both aboardwhile I go to get together a crew. We'll set a course for Oporto whenI return, and ought to reach the place inside the week. Tom, you'llno longer be a sailor before the mast. I have the commander's ordersto take you as a passenger, or, if you wish it, to appoint you anofficer for the time being. How's that?"
It was all delightful hearing; and when at length the sloop turnedher bows for Oporto, leaving the frigate to sail away with herprize, and incidentally to carry Tom's letter to his father inEngland, the party aboard the little vessel could not have beenmerrier.
"You'll have to turn soldier yet," declared Jack to our hero,standing so that the latter could inspect his uniform, and indeed theyoung fellow cut such a neat figure that Tom was even more temptedthan formerly. For Jack was slimmer and shorter than he, while thefew months of training he had experienced had taught him to holdhimself erect. A jollier and more careless ensign never existed. Itcan be said with truth that, had the fortunes of the troops in thePeninsula depended on Jack's wisdom and military knowledge, disasterwould promptly have overtaken our arms. He was just one of thosejolly, inconsequential sort of fellows, always skylarking, always gayand laughing, who go through the world as if serious subjects werenot in existence.
"Hooray for the life of a soldier!" he shouted, knowing Tom's ardentwishes that way, and anxious to fill him with envy. "Who'd ever siton a stool and sweat over books in an office?"
"I'll lick you if you don't stop short," growled Tom sourly, and yetlaughing for all that; for who could take Jack seriously? "Who knows,I may be a leader of troops before you have cut your wisdom teeth?Who knows?"
Who could guess the future indeed? Not Tom. Not the jovial,thoughtless Jack. Not even the wise Mr. Riley, with all hisexperience of the sea and of the men who go upon it. It seemed thatOporto would receive them in the course of a few days, and thatJack and Tom would there part. But within twenty-four hours of thatconversation the scene was changed. Two vessels raised their peaksfrom the offing, and, sailing nearer, declared themselves as French.They overhauled the little sloop, in spite of a spread of canvas thatthreatened to press her beneath the water. And that evening Tom andhis companions were prisoners.
"My uncle! What awful luck!" groaned Jack, in the depths of despair,as is often the case with high-mettled people when reverses comealong. "No soldiering, Tom; no office for you. I'd prefer that to aprison."
"It's the fortune of war," exclaimed Mr. Riley with resignation. "Forme it makes no great difference. The wound I received aboard thefrigate has not improved, and, even if I become a prisoner, I shallreceive proper treatment, which is impossible aboard this sloop. I'msorry for you two young fellows."
"Pooh, sir," smiled Tom, "we'll give 'em the slip! Seems to me I'mnot meant for Oporto yet awhile. We'll give 'em the slip, and thenI'll take on as a soldier."
"Slip? How?" asked Jack, somewhat staggered, for the idea had notoccurred to him.
"Depends; couldn't say now how we'll bring it about. But we'll manageit some way. I speak Spanish and Portuguese and a little French. Ifwith those advantages we can't manage the business, well, we're onlyfit for a prison."
"Hooray!" shouted the excited Jack; whereat one of the Frenchofficers accosted them angrily. But Tom quickly appeased him.
"Where do we get landed, _Monsieur le Lieutenant_?" he asked politely.
>
"Ah, you speak our tongue! That is good," came the more pleasantanswer. "But where you land I cannot say; you will be sent withtroops to the north of Spain, and so to a prison."
It was not very cheering news, but Tom made the best of it.
"I don't put my nose into a French prison if I can help it!" hedeclared, in that particular tone of voice to which Jack had grownaccustomed when they were chums at school.
"And he won't!" declared the latter. "I know Tom well--a pig-headed,stubborn beggar from his cradle. Tom'll give 'em the slip, and wewith him. One thing seems all right in the meanwhile--there's gruband drink in plenty. I never could stand starvation; I'd rather go toprison."
But whatever thoughts they may have had as regards escaping were setaside when they landed. Putting in at an obscure port, Tom and hisfriends found a squadron of horsemen waiting to receive them, for theship had flown signals. The three friends, together with the two menbelonging to Jack's regiment, were given horses, while a troopertook their reins, two other men riding close to each one of them. Andthen they set off across a barren country, which, however fair it mayhave been in other days, was burned black, stripped of all eatables,while those villages which had not been swallowed by the flames werewrecked and useless.
"You will be careful not to attempt an escape," said the officerin command of the squadron, speaking to Tom, the only one of theprisoners who could understand him. "I have given orders for thetroopers to shoot at the first attempt. We ride now to join our mainarmy, and through a country inhabited by people who would flay usalive if they could catch us. Let that alone warn you not to attemptescape. The Portuguese peasants are more dangerous than my soldiers."
He shouted to the head of the column, set his own horse in motion,and led the way at a pace that threatened to be trying. It wasobvious, in fact, that he was anxious to reach the summit of thehills near at hand, and not to be found in the open when night fell.As for Tom and his friends, the outlook seemed hopeless; an attemptat escape meant a bullet from their guard. And, even were theysuccessful, they were in a country where bands of peasants scouredthe valleys murdering all who were too weak to oppose them. It lookedindeed as if a French prison would shortly shelter them, and as ifthere Jack's military career would come to a halt before it hadactually begun, while Tom's ambitions in that direction would be cutin twain and end only in bitter disappointment.