Peter Simple

Bang, bang—whiz, whiz—bang—whiz, came three shots from the enemy, cleaving the air between our masts. The captain jumped down from the carronade, and hastened to the capstan, without finishing his sentence. “Shall we fire when we are ready, sir?” said I; for I perceived that he was not capable of giving correct orders.

“Yes—yes, to be sure,” replied he, remaining where he was.

“Thompson,” said I to the master, “I think we can manage in our present commanding position, to get foul of him, so as to knock away his jib-boom and fore-topmast, and then she can’t escape. We have good way on her.”

“I’ll manage it, Simple, or my name is not Thompson,” replied the master, jumping into the quarter-boat, conning the vessel in that exposed situation, as we received the enemy’s fire.

“Look out, my lads, and pour it into her now, just as you please,” said I to the men.

The seamen were, however, too well disciplined to take immediate advantage of my permission; they waited until we passed her, and just as the master put up his helm so as to catch her jib-boom between our masts, the whole broadside was poured into his bow and chess-tree. Her jib-boom and fore-topgallant went down, and she had so much way through the water, that we tore clear from her, and rounding to the wind shot a-head. The enemy, although in confusion from the effects of our broadside, put up his helm to rake us; we perceived his manoeuvre, and did the same, and then squaring our sail, we ran with him before the wind, engaging broadside to broadside.

This continued about half-an-hour, and we soon found that we had no fool to play with. The brig was well fought, and her guns well directed. We had several men taken down below, and I thought it would be better to engage her even closer. There was about a cable’s length between both vessels, as we ran before the wind, at about six miles an hour with a slight rolling motion.

“Thompson,” said I, “let us see if we cannot beat them from their guns. Let’s port the helm, and close her, till we can shy a biscuit on board.”

“Just my opinion, Simple; we’ll see if they won’t make another sort of running fight of it.”

In a few minutes we were so close on board of her that the men who loaded the guns could touch each other with their rammers and sponges. The men cheered; it was gallantly returned by the enemy, and havoc was now commenced by the musketry on both sides. The French captain, who appeared as brave a fellow as ever stepped, stood for some minutes on the hammocks: I was also holding on by the swifter of the main rigging, when he took off his hat and politely saluted me. I returned the compliment; but the fire became too hot, and I wished to get under the shelter of the bulwark. Still I would not go down first, and the French captain appeared determined not to be the first either to quit the post of honour. At last one of our marines hit him in the right arm: he clasped his hand to the part, as if to point it out to me, nodded, and was assisted down from the hammocks. I immediately quitted my post, for I thought it foolish to stand as a mark for forty or fifty soldiers. I had already received a bullet through the small of my leg. But the effects of such close fire now became apparent: our guns were only half manned, our sides terribly cut up, and our sails and rigging in tatters. The enemy was even worse off, and two broadsides more brought her mainmast by the board. Our men cheered, and threw in another broadside. The enemy dropped astern; we rounded to rake her; she also attempted to round-to, but could not until she had cleared away her wreck, and taken in her foresail, and lowered her topsail. She then continued the action with as much spirit as ever.

“He’s a fine fellow, by God!” exclaimed Thompson; “I never saw a man fight his ship better: but we have him. Webster’s down, poor fellow!”

“I’m sorry for it,” replied I; “but I’m afraid that there are many poor fellows who have lost the number of their mess. I think it useless throwing away the advantage which we now have. He can’t escape, and he’ll fight this way for ever. We had better run a-head, repair damages, and then he must surrender, in his crippled state, when we attack him again.”

“I agree with you,” said Thompson; “the only point is, that it will soon be dark.”

“I’ll not lose sight of him, and he cannot get away. If he puts before the wind, then we’ll be at him again.”

We gave him the loaded guns as we forged a-head, and when we were about half a mile from him, hove to, to repair damages.

The reader may now ask, “But where was the captain all this time?” My answer, is, that he was at the capstan, where he stood in silence, not once interfering during the whole action, which was fought by Thompson the master and myself. How he looked, or how he behaved in other points during the engagement, I cannot pretend to say, for I had no time to observe him. Even now, I was busy knotting the rigging, rousing up new sails to bend, and getting everything in order, and I should not have observed him, had he not come up to me; for as soon as we had ceased firing he appeared to recover himself. He did not, however, first address me; he commenced speaking to the men.

“Come, be smart, my lads; send a hand here to swab up the blood. Here, youngster, run down to the surgeon, and let him know that I wish a report of the killed and wounded.”

By degrees, he talked more, and at last came up to me. “This has been rather smartish, Mr Simple.”

“Very smart indeed, sir,” replied I; and then turned away to give directions.

“Maintop there, send down the hauling line on the starboard side.”

“Ay, ay, sir.”

“Now then, my lads, clap on, and run it up at once.”

“Maintop, there,” hailed the captain, “be a little smarter, or, by God, I’ll call you down for something.”

This did not come with a good grace from one, who had done nothing, to those who were working with all their energy.

“Mr Simple,” said the captain, “I wish you would carry on duty with less noise.”

“At all events, he set us the example during the action,” muttered the Joe Miller; and the other men laughed heartily at the implication.

In two hours, during which we had carefully watched the enemy, who still lay where we left him, we were again ready for action.

“Shall I give the men their grog now, sir?” said I, to the captain; “they must want it.”

“No, no,” replied the captain; “no, no, Mr Simple, I don’t like what you call Dutch courage.”

“I don’t think he much does; and this fellow has shown plenty of it,” said the Joe Miller, softly; and the men about him laughed heartily.

“I think, sir,” observed I, “that it is an injustice to this fine ship’s company, to hint at their requiring Dutch courage.” (Dutch courage is a term for courage screwed up by drinking freely.) “And I most respectfully beg leave to observe, that the men have not had their afternoon’s allowance; and, after the fatigues they have undergone, really require it.”

“I command this ship, sir,” replied he.

“Certainly, sir, I am aware of it,” rejoined I. “She is now all ready for action again, and I wait your orders. The enemy is two miles on the lee quarter.”

The surgeon here came up with his report.

“Good heavens!” said the captain, “forty-seven men killed and wounded; Mr Webster dangerously. Why, the brig is crippled. We can do no more—positively, we can do no more.”

“We can take that brig, anyhow,” cried one of the seamen, from a dozen of the men who were to leeward, expecting orders to renew the attack.

“What man was that?” cried the captain.

No one answered.

“By God! this ship is in a state of mutiny, Mr Simple.”

“Will soon be, I think,” said a voice from the crowd, which I knew very well; but the captain, having been but a short time with us, did not know it.

“Do you hear that, Mr Simple?” cried the captain.

“I regret to say that I did hear it, sir; I little thought that ever such an expression would have been make use of on board of the Rattlesnake.” Then fearing he would ask me the man’s name, and to pretend not to have recognised it, I said, “Who was that who made use of that expression?” But no one answered; and it was so dark that it was impossible to distinguish the men.

“After such mutinous expressions,” observed the captain, “I certainly will not risk His Majesty’s brig under my command, as I should have wished to have done, even in her crippled state, by again engaging the enemy. I can only regret that the officers appear as insolent as the men.”

“Perhaps, Captain Hawkins, you will state in what, and when, I have proved myself insolent. I cannot accuse myself.”

“I hope the expression was not applied to me, sir,” said Thompson, the master, touching his hat.

“Silence, gentlemen, if you please. Mr Simple, wear round the ship.” Whether the captain intended to attack the enemy or not, we could not tell, but we were soon undeceived; for when we were round, he ordered her to be kept away, until the Dutch brig was on our lee quarter: then ordering the master to shape his course for Yarmouth, he went down into the cabin, and sent up word that I might pipe to supper, and serve out the spirits.

The rage and indignation of the men could not be withheld. After they went down to supper they gave three heavy groans in concert; indeed, during the whole of that night, the officers who kept the watches had great difficulty in keeping the men from venting their feeling, in what might be almost termed justifiable mutiny. As for myself, I could hardly control my vexation. The brig was our certain prize; and this was proved, for the next day she hauled down her colours immediately to a much smaller man-of-war, which fell in with her, still lying in the same crippled state; the captain and first lieutenant killed, and nearly two-thirds of her ship’s company either killed or wounded. Had we attacked her, she would have hauled down her colours immediately, for it was our last broadside which had killed the captain, who had shown so much courage. As first lieutenant, I should have received my promotion which was now lost. I cried for vexation when I thought of it as I lay in bed. That his conduct was severely commented upon by the officers in the gun-room, as well as by the whole ship’s company, I hardly need say. Thompson was for bringing him to a court-martial, which I would most gladly have done, if it only were to get rid of him; but I had a long conversation with old Swinburne on the subject, and he proved to me that I had better not attempt it. “For, d’ye see, Mr Simple, you have no proof. He did not run down below; he stood his ground on deck, although he did nothing. You can’t prove cowardice then, although there can be no great doubt of it. Again, with regard to his not renewing the attack, why, is not a captain at liberty to decide what is the best for His Majesty’s service? And if he thought, in the crippled state of the brig, so close to the enemy’s coast, that it wasn’t advisable, why, it could only be brought in as an error in judgment. Then, there’s another thing which must be remembered, Mr Simple, which is, that no captains sitting on a court-martial will, if it be possible to extricate him, ever prove cowardice against a brother captain, because they feel that it’s a disgrace, to the whole cloth.”

Swinburne’s advice was good, and I gave up all thoughts of proceeding; still, it appeared to me, that the captain was very much afraid that I would, he was so extremely amiable and polite during our run home. He said, that he had watched how well I had behaved in the action, and would not fail to notice it. This was something, but he did not keep his word; for his despatch was published before we quitted the roadstead, and not the name of one officer mentioned, only generally saying, that they conducted themselves to his satisfaction. He called the enemy a corvette, not specifying whether she was brig or ship corvette; and the whole was written in such a bombastic style, that any one would have imagined that he had found a vessel of superior force. He stated, at the end, that as soon as he repaired damages, he wore round, but that the enemy declined further action. So she did, certainly—for the best of all possible reasons, that she was too disabled to come down to us. All this might have been contested; but the enormous list of killed and wounded proved that we had had a hard fight, and the capture of the brig afterwards, that we had really overpowered her. So that, on the whole, Captain Hawkins gained a great deal of credit with some; although whispers were afloat, which came to the ears of the Admiralty, and prevented him from being posted—the more so, as he had the modesty not to apply for it.

Chapter Fifty Six

Consequences of the action—A ship without a fighting captain is like a thing without a head—So do the sailors think—A mutiny, and the loss of our famous ship’s company