Various - "Childhood's Favorites and Fairy Stories"

Virginia Bennett - "The Pigeon Tale"

Victor Hugo - "Actes et Paroles, vol. 3"

G. E. Farrow - "The Jungle Baby"

Annual Bibliography of Commonwealth Literature 2007
This paper argues that discourses of love in Ghanaian market literature for youth offer a view into complex negotiations of agency and empowerment. Drawing on Deborah Durham's notion of youth as "social `shifters'" and Francis Nyamnjoh's conception of the "interconnectedness" of agency, I take Ghanaian market literature as one specific case of how African literature for youth foregrounds questions of continuity and change as African societies enter into increasingly complex global relations. In this literature for youth, received notions of love, often constructed out of impressions from American pop and hip hop music, carry new notions of agency that compete with existing "domesticated" forms. Authors like Ike Tandoh and Evelyn Tay employ discourses of love to offer youth alternative avenues for empowerment in a context of socio-economic disenfranchizement. In a creative process of "straddling", this writing both reveals and reproduces the contradictions that obtain in youth configurations of agency.

The Two Admirals

J >> J. Fenimore Cooper >> The Two Admirals




The scene was now animated, and not without a wild magnificence. The
gale continued as heavy as ever, and with the raging of the ocean and
the howling of the winds, mingled the roar of artillery, and the smoky
canopy of battle. Still the destruction on neither side bore any
proportion to the grandeur of the accompaniments; the distance and the
unsteadiness of the ships preventing much accuracy of aim. In that day,
a large two-decked ship never carried heavier metal than an eighteen
above her lower batteries; and this gun, efficient as it is on most
occasions, does not bring with it the fearful destruction that attends a
more modern broadside. There was a good deal of noise, notwithstanding,
and some blood shed in passing; but, on the whole, when the Warspite,
the last of the English ships, ceased her fire, on account of the
distance of the enemy abreast of her, it would have been difficult to
tell that any vessel but le Foudroyant, had been doing more than
saluting. At this instant Greenly re-appeared on the poop, his own ship
having ceased to fire for several minutes.

"Well, Greenly, the main-deck guns are at least scaled," said Sir
Gervaise, smiling; "and _that_ is not to be done over again for some
time. You keep every thing ready in the batteries, I trust?"

"We are all ready, Sir Gervaise, but there is nothing to be done. It
would be useless to waste our ammunition at ships quite two miles under
our lee."

"Very true--very true, sir. But _all_ the Frenchmen are not quite so far
to leeward, Greenly, as you may see by looking ahead. Yonder two, at
least, are not absolutely out of harm's way!"

Greenly turned, gazed an instant in the direction in which the
commander-in-chief pointed, and then the truth of what Sir Gervaise had
really in view in keeping away, flashed on his mind, as it might be, at
a glance. Without saying a word, he immediately quitted the poop, and
descending even to the lower deck, passed through the whole of his
batteries, giving his orders, and examining their condition.




CHAPTER XXIII.

"By Heaven! it is a splendid sight to see,
(For one who hath no friend, nor brother there,)
Their rival scarfs of mixed embroidery--
Their various arms that glitter in the air!"

CHILDE HAROLD.


The little conflict between the English ships and the head of the French
line, the evolutions that had grown out of it, the crippling of le
Foudroyant, and the continuance of the gale, contributed to produce
material changes in the relative positions of the two fleets. All the
English vessels kept their stations with beautiful accuracy, still
running to the southward in a close line ahead, having the wind a trifle
abaft the beam, with their yards braced in. Under the circumstances, it
needed but some seven or eight minutes for these ships to glide a mile
through the troubled ocean, and this was about the period the most
exposed of them all had been under the random and slow fire that the
state of the weather permitted. The trifling damages sustained were
already repaired, or in a way soon to be so. On the other hand,
considerable disorder prevailed among the French. Their line had never
been perfect, extending quite a league; a few of the leading vessels, or
those near the commander-in-chief, sustaining each other as well as
could be desired, while long intervals existed between the ships astern.
Among the latter, too, as has been stated, some were much farther to
windward than the others; an irregularity that proceeded from a desire
of the Comte to luff up as near as possible to the enemy--a desire,
which, practised on, necessarily threw the least weatherly vessels to
leeward. Thus the two ships in the extreme rear, as has been hinted at
already, being jammed up unusually hard upon the wind, had weathered
materially on their consorts, while their way through the water had been
proportionably less. It was these combined circumstances which brought
them so far astern and to windward.

At the time Sir Gervaise pointed out their positions to Greenly, the two
vessels just mentioned were quite half a mile to the westward of their
nearest consort, and more than that distance to the southward. When it
is remembered that the wind was nearly due west, and that all the French
vessels, these two excepted, were steering north, the relative positions
of the latter will be understood. Le Foudroyant, too, had kept away,
after the loss of her top-masts, until fairly in the wake of the ships
ahead of her, in her own line, and, as the vessels had been running off
with the wind abeam, for several minutes, this man[oe]uvre threw the
French still farther to leeward. To make the matter worse, just as the
Warspite drew out of the range of shot from the French, M. de Vervillin
showed a signal at the end of his gaff, for his whole fleet to ware in
succession; an order, which, while it certainly had a gallant semblance,
as it was bringing his vessels round on the same tack as his enemy, and
looked like a defiance, was singularly adapted to restoring to the
latter all the advantage of the wind they had lost by keeping away. As
it was necessary to take room to execute this evolution, in order to
clear the ships that were now crowded in the van, when le Temeraire came
to the wind again on the starboard tack, she was fully half a mile to
leeward of the admiral, who had just put his helm up. As a matter of
course, in order to form anew, with the heads of the ships to the
southward, each vessel had to get into her leader's wake, which would be
virtually throwing the whole French line, again, two miles to leeward of
the English. Nevertheless, the stragglers in the rear of the French
continued to hug the wind, with a pertinacity that denoted a resolution
to have a brush with their enemies in passing. The vessels were le
Scipion and la Victoire, each of seventy-four guns. The first of these
ships was commanded by a young man of very little professional
experience, but of high court influence; while the second had a captain
who, like old Parker, had worked his way up to his present station,
through great difficulties, and by dint of hard knocks, and harder work.
Unfortunately the first ranked, and the humble _capitaine de fregate_,
placed by accident in command of a ship of the line, did not dare to
desert a _capitaine de vaisseau_, who had a _duc_ for an elder brother,
and called himself _comte_. There was perhaps a redeeming gallantry in
the spirit which determined the Comte de Chelincourt to incur the risk
of passing so near six vessels with only two, that might throw a veil
over the indiscretion; more especially as his own fleet was near enough
to support him in the event of any disaster, and it was certainly
possible that the loss of a material spar on board either of his foes,
might induce the capture of the vessel. At all events, thus reasoned M.
de Chelincourt; who continued boldly on, with his larboard tacks aboard,
always hugging the wind, even after the Temeraire was round; and M.
Comptant chose to follow him in la Victoire. The Plantagenet, by this
time, being not a mile distant from the Scipio, coming on with steady
velocity, these intentions and circumstances created every human
probability that she would soon be passing her weather beam, within a
quarter of a mile, and, consequently, that a cannonade, far more serious
than what had yet occurred, must follow. The few intervening minutes
gave Sir Gervaise time to throw a glance around him, and to come to his
final decision.

The English fleet was never in better line than at that precise moment.
The ships were as close to each other as comported with safety, and
every thing stood and drew as in the trade winds. The leading French
vessels were waring and increasing their distance to leeward, and it
would require an hour for them to get up near enough to be at all
dangerous in such weather, while all the rest were following, regardless
of the two that continued their luff. The Chloe had already got round,
and, hugging the wind, was actually coming up to windward of her own
line, though under a press of canvass that nearly buried her. The Active
and Driver were in their stations, as usual; one on the weather beam,
and the other on the weather bow; while the Druid had got so near as to
show her hull, closing fast, with square yards.

"That is either a very bold, or a very obstinate fellow; he, who
commands the two ships ahead of us," observed Greenly, as he stood at
the vice-admiral's side, and just as the latter terminated his survey.
"What object can he possibly have in braving three times his force in a
gale like this?"

"If it were an Englishman, Greenly, we should call him a hero! By taking
a mast out of one of us, he might cause the loss of the ship, or compel
us to engage double _our_ force. Do not blame him, but help me, rather,
to disappoint him. Now, listen, and see all done immediately."

Sir Gervaise then explained to the captain what his intentions really
were, first ordering, himself, (a very unusual course for one of his
habits,) the first lieutenant, to keep the ship off as much as
practicable, without seeming to wish to do so; but, as the orders will
be explained incidentally, in the course of the narrative, it is not
necessary to give them here. Greenly then went below, leaving Sir
Gervaise, Bunting, and their auxiliaries, in possession of the poop. A
private signal had been bent on some little time, and it was now
hoisted. In about five minutes it was read, understood, and answered by
all the ships of the fleet. Sir Gervaise rubbed his hands like a man who
was delighted, and he beckoned to Bury, who had the trumpet on the
quarter-deck, to join him on the poop.

"Did Captain Greenly let you into our plot, Bury," asked the
vice-admiral, in high good-humour, as soon as obeyed, "I saw he spoke to
you in going below?"

"He only told me, Sir Gervaise, to edge down upon the Frenchmen as close
as I could, and this we are doing, I think, as fast as mounsheer"--Bury
was an Anglo-Gallican--"will at all like."

"Ah! there old Parker sheers bravely to leeward! Trust to him to be in
the right place. The Carnatic went fifty fathoms out of the line at that
one twist. The Thunderer and Warspite too! Never was a signal more
beautifully obeyed. If the Frenchmen don't take the alarm, now, every
thing will be to our minds."

By this time, Bury began to understand the man[oe]uvre. Each alternate
ship of the English was sheering fast to leeward, forming a weather and
a lee line, with increased intervals between the vessels, while all of
them were edging rapidly away, so as greatly to near the enemy. It was
apparent now, indeed, that the Plantagenet herself must pass within a
hundred fathoms of the Scipio, and that in less than two minutes. The
delay in issuing the orders for this evolution was in favour of its
success, inasmuch as it did not give the enemy time for deliberation.
The Comte de Chelincourt, in fact, did not detect it; or, at least, did
not foresee the consequences; though both were quite apparent to the
more experienced _capitaine de fregate_ astern. It was too late, or the
latter would have signalled his superior to put him on his guard; but,
as things were, there remained no alternative, apparently, but to run
the gauntlet, and trust all to the chances of battle.

In a moment like that we are describing, events occur much more rapidly
than they can be related. The Plantagenet was now within pistol-shot of
le Scipion, and on her weather bow. At that precise instant, when the
bow-guns, on both sides, began to play, the Carnatic, then nearly in a
line with the enemy, made a rank sheer to leeward, and drove on, opening
in the very act with her weather-bow guns. The Thunderer and Warspite
imitated this man[oe]uvre, leaving the Frenchman the cheerless prospect
of being attacked on both sides. It is not to be concealed that M. de
Chelincourt was considerably disturbed by this sudden change in his
situation. That which, an instant before, had the prospect of being a
chivalrous, but extremely hazardous, passage in front of a formidable
enemy, now began to assume the appearance of something very like
destruction. It was too late, however, to remedy the evil, and the young
Comte, as brave a man as existed, determined to face it manfully. He had
scarcely time to utter a few cheering sentiments, in a dramatic manner,
to those on the quarter-deck, when the English flag-ship came sweeping
past in a cloud of smoke, and a blaze of fire. His own broadside was
nobly returned, or as much of it as the weather permitted, but the smoke
of both discharges was still driving between his masts, when the dark
hamper of the Carnatic glided into the drifting canopy, which was made
to whirl back on the devoted Frenchman in another torrent of flame.
Three times was this fearful assault renewed on the Scipio, at intervals
of about a minute, the iron hurricane first coming from to windward, and
then seeming to be driven back from to leeward, as by its own rebound,
leaving no breathing time to meet it. The effect was completely to
silence her own fire; for what between the power of the raging elements,
and the destruction of the shot, a species of wild and blood-fraught
confusion took the place of system and order. Her decks were covered
with killed and wounded, among the latter of whom was the Comte de
Chelincourt, while orders were given and countermanded in a way to
render them useless, if not incoherent. From the time when the
Plantagenet fired her first gun, to that when the Warspite fired her
last, was just five minutes by the watch. It seemed an hour to the
French, and but a moment to their enemies. One hundred and eighty-two
men and boys were included in the casualties of those teeming moments on
board the Scipio alone; and when that ship issued slowly from the scene
of havoc, more by the velocity of her assailants in passing than by her
own, the foremast was all that stood, the remainder of her spars
dragging under her lee. To cut the last adrift, and to run off nearly
before the wind, in order to save the spars forward, and to get within
the cover of her own fleet, was all that could now be done. It may as
well be said here, that these two objects were effected.

The Plantagenet had received damage from the fire of her opponent. Some
ten or fifteen men were killed and wounded; her main-top-sail was split
by a shot, from clew to earing; one of the quarter-masters was carried
from the poop, literally dragged overboard by the sinews that connected
head and body; and several of the spars, with a good deal of rigging,
required to be looked to, on account of injuries. But no one thought of
these things, except as they were connected with present and pressing
duties. Sir Gervaise got a sight of la Victoire, some hundred and twenty
fathoms ahead, just as the roar of the Carnatic's guns was rushing upon
his ears. The French commander saw and understood the extreme jeopardy
of his consort, and he had already put his helm hard up.

"Starboard--starboard hard, Bury!" shouted Sir Gervaise from the poop.
"Damn him, run him aboard, if he dare hold on long enough to meet us."

The lieutenant signed with his hand that the order was understood, and
the helm being put up, the ship went whirling off to leeward on the
summit of a hill of foam. A cheer was heard struggling in the tempest,
and glancing over his left shoulder, Sir Gervaise perceived the Carnatic
shooting out of the smoke, and imitating his own movement, by making
another and still ranker sheer to leeward. At the same moment she set
her main-sail close-reefed, as if determined to outstrip her antagonist,
and maintain her station. None but a prime seaman could have done such a
thing so steadily and so well, in the midst of the wild haste and
confusion of such a scene. Sir Gervaise, now not a hundred yards from
the Carnatic, waved high his hat in exultation and praise; and old
Parker, alone on his own poop, bared his grey hairs in acknowledgment of
the compliment. All this time the two ships drove madly ahead, while the
crash and roar of the battle was heard astern.

The remaining French ship was well and nimbly handled. As she came round
she unavoidably sheered towards her enemies, and Sir Gervaise found it
necessary to countermand his last order, and to come swiftly up to the
wind, both to avoid her raking broadside, and to prevent running into
his own consort. But the Carnatic, having a little more room, first kept
off, and then came to the wind again, as soon as the Frenchman had
fired, in a way to compel him to haul up on the other tack, or to fall
fairly aboard. Almost at the same instant, the Plantagenet closed on his
weather quarter and raked. Parker had got abeam, and pressing nearer, he
compelled la Victoire to haul her bowlines, bringing her completely
between two fires. Spar went after spar, and being left with nothing
standing but the lower masts, the Plantagenet and Carnatic could not
prevent themselves from passing their victim, though each shortened
sail; the first being already without a top-sail. Their places, however,
were immediately supplied by the Achilles and the Thunderer, both ships
having hauled down their stay-sails to lessen their way. As the Blenheim
and Warspite were quite near astern, and an eighteen-pound shot had
closed the earthly career of the poor _capitaine de fregate_, his
successor in command deemed it prudent to lower his ensign; after a
resistance that in its duration was unequal to the promise of its
commencement. Still the ship had suffered materially, and had fifty of
her crew among the casualties. His submission terminated the combat.

Sir Gervaise Oakes had now leisure and opportunity to look about him.
Most of the French ships had got round; but, besides being quite as far
astern, when they should get up abeam, supposing himself to remain where
he was, they would be at very long gun-shot dead to leeward. To remain
where he was, however, formed no part of his plan, for he was fully
resolved to maintain all his advantages. The great difficulty was to
take possession of his prize, the sea running so high as to render it
questionable if a boat would live. Lord Morganic, however, was just of
an age and a temperament to bring that question to a speedy issue. Being
on the weather-beam of la Victoire, as her flag came down, he ordered
his own first lieutenant into the larger cutter, and putting
half-a-dozen marines, with the proper crew, into the boat, it was soon
seen dangling in the air over the cauldron of the ocean; the oars
on-end. To lower, let go, and unhook, were the acts of an instant; the
oars fell, and the boat was swept away to leeward. A commander's
commission depended on his success, and Daly made desperate efforts to
obtain it. The prize offered a lee, and the French, with a national
benevolence, courtesy, and magnanimity, that would scarcely have been
imitated had matters been reversed, threw ropes to their conquerors, to
help to rescue them from a very awkward dilemma. The men did succeed in
getting into the prize; but the boat, in the end, was stove and lost.

The appearance of the red flag of England, the symbol of his own
professional rank, and worn by most under his own orders, over the white
ensign of France, was the sign to Sir Gervaise that the prize-officer
was in possession. He immediately made the signal for the fleet to
follow the motions of the commander-in-chief. By this time, his own
main-sail, close-reefed, had taken the place of the torn top-sail, and
the Plantagenet led off to the southward again, as if nothing unusual
had occurred. Daly had a quarter of an hour of extreme exertion on board
the prize, before he could get her fairly in motion as he desired; but,
by dint of using the axe freely, he cut the wreck adrift, and soon had
la Victoire liberated from that incumbrance. The fore-sail and fore and
mizzen stay-sails were on the ship, and the main-sail, close-reefed also,
was about to be set, to drag her-from the _melee_ of her foes, when her
ensign came down. By getting the tack of the latter aboard, and the
sheet aft, he would have all the canvass set the gale would allow, and
to this all-essential point he directed his wits. To ride down the
main-tack of a two-decked ship, in a gale of wind, or what fell little
short of a real gale, was not to be undertaken with twenty men, the
extent of Daly's command; and he had recourse to the assistance of his
enemies. A good natured, facetious Irishman, himself, with a smattering
of French, he soon got forty or fifty of the prisoners in a sufficient
humour to lend their aid, and the sail was set, though not without great
risk of its splitting. From this moment, la Victoire was better off, as
respected the gale and keeping a weatherly position, than any of the
English ships; inasmuch as she could carry all the canvass the wind
permitted, while she was relieved from the drift inseparable from hamper
aloft. The effect, indeed, was visible in the first hour, to Daly's
great delight and exultation. At the end of that period, he found
himself quite a cable's-length to windward of the line. But in relating
this last particular, events have been a little anticipated.

Greenly, who had gone below to attend to the batteries, which were not
worked without great difficulty in so heavy a sea, and to be in
readiness to open the lower ports should occasion offer, re-appeared on
deck just as the commander-in-chief showed the signal for the ships to
follow his own motions. The line was soon formed, as mentioned, and ere
long it became apparent that the prize could easily keep in her station.
As most of the day was still before him, Sir Gervaise had little doubt
of being able to secure the latter, ere night should come to render it
indispensable.

The vice-admiral and his captain shook hands cordially on the poop, and
the former pointed out to the latter, with honest exultation, the result
of his own bold man[oe]uvres.

"We've clipped the wings of two of them," added Sir Gervaise, "and have
fairly bagged a third, my good friend; and, God willing, when Bluewater
joins, there will not be much difficulty with the remainder. I cannot
see that any of our vessels have suffered much, and I set them all down
as sound. There's been time for a signal of inability, that curse to an
admiral's evolutions, but no one seems disposed to make it. If we really
escape that nuisance, it will be the first instance in my life!"

"Half-a-dozen yards may be crippled, and no one the worse for it, in
this heavy weather. Were we under a press of canvass, it would be a
different matter; but, now, so long as the main sticks stand, we shall
probably do well enough. I can find no injury in my own ship that may
not be remedied at sea."

"And she has had the worst of it. 'Twas a decided thing, Greenly, to
engage such an odds in a gale; but we owe our success, most probably, to
the audacity of the attack. Had the enemy believed it possible, it is
probable he would have frustrated it. Well, Master Galleygo, I'm glad to
see you unhurt! What is your pleasure?"

"Why, Sir Jarvy, I've two opportunities, as a body might say, on the
poop, just now. One is to shake hands, as we always does a'ter a brush,
you knows, sir, and to look a'ter each other's health; and the other is
to report a misfortin that will bear hard on this day's dinner. You see,
Sir Jarvy, I had the dead poultry slung in a net, over the live stock,
to be out of harm's way; well, sir, a shot cut the lanyard, and let all
the chickens down by the run, in among the gun-room grunters; and as
they never half feeds them hanimals, there isn't as much left of the
birds as would make a meal for a sick young gentleman. To my notion, no
one ought to _have_ live stock but the commanders-in-chief."

"To the devil with you and the stock! Give me a shake of the hand, and
back into your top--how came you, sir, to quit your quarters without
leave?"

"I didn't, Sir Jarvy. Seeing how things was a going on, among the pigs,
for our top hoverlooks the awful scene, I axed the young gentleman to
let me come down to condole with your honour; and as they always lets me
do as I axes, in such matters, why down I come. We has had one rattler
in at our top, howsever, that came nigh lo clear us all out on it!"

"Is any spar injured?" asked Sir Gervaise, quickly. "This must be looked
to--hey! Greenly?"

"Not to signify, your honour; not to signify. One of them French
eighteens aboard the prize just cocked its nose up, as the ship lurched,
and let fly a round 'un and a grist of grape, right into our faces. I
see'd it coming and sung out 'scaldings;' and 'twas well I did. We all
ducked in time, and the round 'un cleared every thing, but a handful of
the marbles are planted in the head of the mast, making the spar look
like a plum-pudding, or a fellow with the small-pox."

"Enough of this. You are excused from returning to the top;--and,
Greenly, beat the retreat. Bunting, show the signal for the retreat from
quarters. Let the ships pipe to breakfast, if they will."

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