The Majestic1 was one of the four ships which sailed into action in the wake of the Admiral. Our hero, Bill Bowls, and his friend Ben Bolter, were stationed at one of the guns on the larboard side of the main deck. Flinders stood near them. Everything was prepared for action. The guns were loaded, the men, stripped to the waist, stood ready, and the matches were lighted, but as yet no order had been given to fire. The men on the larboard side of the ship stood gazing anxiously through the portholes at the furious strife3 in which they were about to engage.
“Ah, then! but it’s hot work is goin’ on,” said Flinders, turning to Ben Bolter just after a crash of artillery4 somewhat louder than usual.
“It’s hotter work ye’ll see soon, when the Admiral gits into action,” said Ben.
“True for ye,” answered Flinders; “he’s a broth5 of a boy for fightin’. It’s an Irishman he should have been born. Hooroo, my hearties6! look out!”
This latter exclamation7 was drawn8 forth9 by the crashing of a stray shot, which entered the ship close to the spot where they stood, and passed out on the starboard side, sending splinters of wood flying in all directions, without hurting any one.
“Faix, but it’s not the last!” cried Flinders, as another stray shot hit the ship, wounding one of the men, and sending a splinter so close past the Irishman that it grazed his cheek. “Hooroo, boys! come on, the more the merrier! Sure it’s death or victory we’ll be havin’ in half-an-hour.”
At this moment of intense excitement and expectation, when every man’s nerves tingled12 to be called into vigorous action, Ben Bolter saw fit to give Flinders a lecture.
“Ye shouldn’t ought to speak misrespectful of death, boy,” said he gravely. “He’s a rough customer when he gits hold of ’e, an’ is sartin sure to have the upper hand. It’s my opinion that he’ll pay this ship a pretty stiff visit to-night, so you’d better treat him with respect, an’ belay yer jokin’—of which yer countrymen are over fond.”
To this Flinders listened with a humorous expression about the corners of his eyes, while he stroked his chin, and awaited a pause in order to make a suitable reply, but an exclamation from Bill Bowls changed the subject abruptly13.
“Ho! boys,” he cried, “there goes the Admiral.”
A tremendous crash followed his words, and the Vanguard was seen to pour a broadside into the Spartiate—as before related.
The men of the Majestic gazed eagerly at the Admiral’s ship, which was almost enveloped14 in thick smoke as they passed ahead, but an order from Captain Westcott to be ready for action called the attention of every man on his duty. Whatever might have been, at that moment, the thoughts of the hundreds of men on board the Majestic, the whole soul and body of every man appeared to be concentrated on his own gun, as he awaited in stern silence the order to act.
It came at last, but somewhat differently from what had been expected. A sudden and peculiar15 motion was felt in the ship, and it was found that she had got entangled16 with the main rigging of one of the French vessels17 astern of the L’Orient. Instantly men were sent aloft to cut clear, but before this could be accomplished19 a perfect storm of shot and shell was sent into them from the towering sides of the three-decker. Men fell on all sides before they had an opportunity of firing a shot; again and again the crushing shower of metal came; spars and masts fell; the rigging was cut up terribly, and in a short time the Majestic would certainly have been sunk had she not fortunately managed to swing clear. A moment afterwards Captain Westcott, finding himself close alongside the Heureux—the ninth ship of the enemy’s line—gave the word to open fire, and Bill Bowls had at last the satisfaction of being allowed to apply a light to the touch-hole of his gun. Seventy-four men had for some time past felt their fingers itching20 with an almost irresistible21 desire to do this, and now upwards22 of thirty of them were allowed to gratify their wish. Instantly the good ship received a shock that caused her to quiver from the trucks to the keel, as her broadside went crashing into the Heureux.
No longer was there impatient inaction on board the Majestic, for not only did the Heureux reply vigorously, but the Tonnant—the eighth of the enemy’s line—opened fire on their other side. The Majestic therefore fought on both sides. Throughout the whole ship the stalwart, half-naked men heaved at the huge guns. Everywhere, from stem to stern, was exhibited in full swing the active processes of sponging out, passing along powder and ball, ramming23 home the charges, running out, working the handspikes, stepping aside to avoid the recoil—and the whole operation of working the guns, as only British seamen24 know how to work them! All this was done in the midst of smoke, flame, crashing shot, and flying splinters, while the decks were slippery with human blood, and strewn with dead men, from amongst whom the wounded were raised as tenderly as the desperate circumstances in which they were placed would admit of, and carried below. Many of those who were thus raised never reached the cockpit, but again fell, along with those who bore them.
One of the men at the gun where Bill Bowls was at work was in the act of handing a round shot to Bill, when a ball entered the port-hole and hit him on the head, scattering25 his brains over the gun. Bill sprang forward to catch him in his arms, but slipped on the bloody26 deck and fell. That fall saved his life, for at the same moment a musket27 ball entered the port and passed close over his head, shattering the arm of a poor boy—one of those brave little fellows called powder-monkeys—who was in the act of carrying a cartridge28 to Ben Bolter. Ben could not delay the loading of the piece to assist the little fellow, who used his remaining strength to stagger forward and deliver the cartridge before he fell, but he shouted hastily to a passing shipmate—
“Here, Davis, carry this poor little chap to the cockpit.”
Davis turned and took the boy in his arms. He had almost reached the main hatchway when a shell entered the ship and burst close to him. One fragment killed the boy, and another almost cut Davis in two. They fell and died together.
For a long time this terrible firing at short range went on, and many men fell on both sides. Among others, Captain Westcott was killed. He was the only captain who fell in that battle, and was one who, had his life been spared, would certainly have risen to the highest rank in the service. He had “risen from the ranks,” having been the son of a baker29 in Devonshire, and gained the honourable30 station in which he lost his life solely31 through his conspicuous32 abilities and courage.
Up to this point none of those who are principally concerned in this tale had received any hurt, beyond a few insignificant33 scratches, but soon after the death of the little boy, Tom Riggles received a severe wound in the leg from a splinter. He was carried below by Bill and Ben.
“It’s all over with me,” he said in a desponding tone as they went slowly down the ladders; “I knows it’ll be a case o’ ampitation.”
“Don’t you go for to git down-hearted, Tom,” said Ben earnestly. “You’re too tough to be killed easy.”
“Well, I is tough, but wot’ll toughness do for a feller agin iron shot. I feels just now as if a red-hot skewer34 wos rumblin’ about among the marrow35 of my back-bone, an’ I’ve got no feelin’ in my leg at all. Depend upon it, messmates, it’s a bad case.”
His comrades did not reply, because they had reached the gloomy place where the surgeons were engaged at their dreadful work. They laid Tom down on a locker36.
“Good-bye, lads,” said Tom, as they were about to turn away, “p’r’aps I’ll not see ye again, so give us a shake o’ yer flippers.”
Bill and Ben silently squeezed their comrade’s hand, being unable to speak, and then hastened back to their stations.
It was about this time that the L’Orient caught fire, and when Bill and his friend reached the deck, sheets of flame were already leaping out at the port-holes of the gigantic ship. The sides of the L’Orient had been recently painted, and the paint-buckets and oil-jars which stood on the poop soon caught, and added brilliancy to the great conflagration37 which speedily followed the first outbreak of fire. It was about nine o’clock when the fire was first observed. Before this the gallant38 French Admiral had perished. Although three times wounded, Brueys refused to quit his post. At length a shot almost cut him in two, but still he refused to go below, and desired to be left to die on his quarter-deck. He was spared the pain of witnessing the destruction of his vessel18.
Soon the flames got the mastery, and blazing upward like a mighty39 torch, threw a strong and appropriate light over the scene of battle. The greater part of the crew of the L’Orient displayed a degree of courage which could not be surpassed, for they stuck to their guns to the very last; continuing to fire from the lower deck while the fire was raging above them, although they knew full well the dire10 and instantaneous destruction that must ensue when the fire reached the magazine.
The position and flags of the two fleets were now clearly seen, for it was almost as light as day, and the fight went on with unabated fury until about ten o’clock, when, with a terrific explosion, the L’Orient blew up. So tremendous was the shock that it seemed to paralyse the combatants for a little, for both fleets ceased to fire, and there ensued a profound silence, which continued for some time. The first sound that broke the solemn stillness was the splash of the falling spars of the giant ship as they descended40 from the immense height to which they had been shot!
Of the hundreds of human beings who manned that ship, scarcely a tithe41 were saved. About seventy were rescued by English boats. The scattered42 and burning fragments fell around like rain, and there was much fear lest these should set some of the neighbouring vessels on fire. Two large pieces of burning wreck43 fell into the Swiftsure, and a port fire into the Alexander, but these were quickly extinguished.
On board the Majestic also, some portions of burning material fell. While these were being extinguished, one of the boats was ordered out to do all that was possible to save the drowning Frenchmen. Among the first to jump into this boat were Bill Bowls and Ben Bolter. Bill took the bow oar2, Ben the second, and in a few moments they were pulling cautiously amid the débris of the wreck, helping44 to haul on board such poor fellows as they could get hold of. The work was difficult, because comparative darkness followed the explosion, and as the fight was soon resumed, the thunder of heavy guns, together with the plunging45 of ball, exploding of shell, and whizzing of chain-shot overhead, rendered the service one of danger as well as difficulty.
It was observed by the men of the Majestic’s boat that several French boats were moving about on the same errand of mercy with themselves, and it was a strange as well as interesting sight to see those who, a few minutes before, had been bent46 on taking each other’s lives, now as earnestly engaged in the work of saving life!
“Back your starboard oars47,” shouted Ben, just as they passed one of the French boats; “there’s a man swimming on the port bow—that’s it; steady; lend a hand, Bill; now then, in with him.”
A man was hoisted48 over the gunwale as he spoke49, and the boat passed onward50. Just then a round shot from one of the more distant ships of the fleet—whether English or French they could not tell—struck the water a few yards from them, sending a column of spray high into the air. Instead of sinking, the shot ricochetted from the water and carried away the bow of the boat in passing, whirling it round and almost overturning it. At the same moment the sea rushed in and swamped it, leaving the crew in the water.
Our hero made an involuntary grasp at the thing that happened to be nearest him. This was the head of his friend Ben Bolter, who had been seated on the thwart51 in front of him. Ben returned the grasp promptly52, and having somehow in the confusion of the plunge53, taken it into his head that he was in the grasp of a Frenchman, he endeavoured to throttle54 Bill. Bill, not being easily throttled55, forthwith proceeded to choke Ben, and a struggle ensued which might have ended fatally for both, had not a piece of wreck fortunately touched Ben on the shoulder. He seized hold of it, Bill did the same, and then they set about the fight with more precision.
“Come on, ye puddock-eater!” cried Ben, again seizing Bill by the throat.
“Hallo, Ben!”
“Why, wot—is’t you, Bill? Well, now, if I didn’t take ’e for a Mounseer!”
Before more could be said a boat was observed rowing close past them. Ben hailed it.
“Ho!” cried a voice, as the men rested on their oars and listened.
“Lend a hand, shipmates,” cried Ben, “on yer port bow.”
The oars were dipped at once, the boat ranged up, and the two men were assisted into it.
“It’s all well as ends well, as I’ve heerd the play-actors say,” observed Ben Bolter, as he shook the water from his garments. “I say, lads, what ship do you belong to?”
“Ve has de honair to b’long to Le Guillaume Tell,” replied one of the men.
“Hallo, Bill!” whispered Ben, “it’s a French boat, an’ we’re nabbed. Prisoners o’ war, as sure as my name’s BB! Wot’s to be done?”
“I’ll make a bolt, sink or swim,” whispered our hero.
“You vill sit still,” said the man who had already spoken to them, laying a hand on Bill’s shoulder.
Bill jumped up and made a desperate attempt to leap overboard, but two men seized him. Ben sprang to the rescue instantly, but he also was overpowered by numbers, and the hands of both were tied behind their backs. A few minutes later and they were handed up the side of the French ship.
When day broke on the morning of the 2nd of August, the firing still continued, but it was comparatively feeble, for nearly every ship of the French fleet had been taken. Only the Guillaume Tell and the Genereux—the two rear ships of the enemy—had their colours flying.
These, with two frigates56, cut their cables and stood out to sea. The Zealous57 pursued, but as there was no other British ship in a fit state to support her, she was recalled; the four vessels, therefore, escaped at that time, but they were captured not long afterwards. Thus ended the famous battle of the Nile, in regard to which Nelson said that it was a “conquest” rather than a victory.
Of thirteen sail of the line, nine were taken and two burnt; and two of their four frigates were burnt. The British loss in killed and wounded amounted to 896; that of the French was estimated at 2000.
The victory was most complete. The French fleet was annihilated58. As might be supposed, the hero of the Nile was, after this, almost worshipped as a demigod. It is worthy59 of remark here that Nelson, as soon as the conquest was completed, sent orders through the fleet that thanksgiving should be returned, in every ship, to Almighty60 God, for the victory with which He had blessed His Majesty’s arms.
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1
majestic
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| adj.雄伟的，壮丽的，庄严的，威严的，崇高的 | |
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oar
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| n.桨，橹，划手；v.划行 | |
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strife
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| n.争吵，冲突，倾轧，竞争 | |
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artillery
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| n.(军)火炮，大炮；炮兵(部队) | |
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broth
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| n.原(汁)汤(鱼汤、肉汤、菜汤等) | |
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hearties
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| 亲切的( hearty的名词复数 )； 热诚的； 健壮的； 精神饱满的 | |
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exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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dire
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| adj.可怕的，悲惨的，阴惨的，极端的 | |
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ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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tingled
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| v.有刺痛感( tingle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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enveloped
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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entangled
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| adj.卷入的；陷入的；被缠住的；缠在一起的v.使某人（某物/自己）缠绕，纠缠于（某物中），使某人（自己）陷入（困难或复杂的环境中）( entangle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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vessels
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| n.血管( vessel的名词复数 )；船；容器；（具有特殊品质或接受特殊品质的）人 | |
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vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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itching
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| adj.贪得的，痒的，渴望的v.发痒( itch的现在分词 ) | |
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irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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ramming
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| n.打结炉底v.夯实（土等）( ram的现在分词 )；猛撞；猛压；反复灌输 | |
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24
seamen
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| n.海员 | |
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25
scattering
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| n.[物]散射；散乱，分散；在媒介质中的散播adj.散乱的；分散在不同范围的；广泛扩散的；（选票）数量分散的v.散射(scatter的ing形式)；散布；驱散 | |
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26
bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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musket
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| n.滑膛枪 | |
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cartridge
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| n.弹壳，弹药筒；(装磁带等的)盒子 | |
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baker
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| n.面包师 | |
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honourable
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| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
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solely
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| adv.仅仅，唯一地 | |
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conspicuous
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| adj.明眼的，惹人注目的；炫耀的，摆阔气的 | |
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insignificant
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| adj.无关紧要的，可忽略的，无意义的 | |
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skewer
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| n.（烤肉用的）串肉杆；v.用杆串好 | |
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marrow
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| n.骨髓；精华；活力 | |
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locker
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| n.更衣箱，储物柜，冷藏室，上锁的人 | |
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conflagration
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| n.建筑物或森林大火 | |
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gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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41
tithe
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| n.十分之一税；v.课什一税，缴什一税 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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43
wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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44
helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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45
plunging
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| adj.跳进的，突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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46
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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47
oars
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| n.桨，橹( oar的名词复数 )；划手v.划（行）( oar的第三人称单数 ) | |
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48
hoisted
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| 把…吊起，升起( hoist的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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49
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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50
onward
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| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
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51
thwart
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| v.阻挠，妨碍，反对；adj.横(断的) | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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53
plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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54
throttle
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| n.节流阀，节气阀，喉咙；v.扼喉咙，使窒息，压 | |
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throttled
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| v.扼杀( throttle的过去式和过去分词 )；勒死；使窒息；压制 | |
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frigates
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| n.快速军舰( frigate的名词复数 ) | |
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zealous
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| adj.狂热的，热心的 | |
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annihilated
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| v.（彻底）消灭( annihilate的过去式和过去分词 )；使无效；废止；彻底击溃 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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almighty
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| adj.全能的，万能的；很大的，很强的 | |
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