The Two Admirals

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It would have been a curious subject of observation to an inexperienced
person, to note the manner in which the two fleets man[oe]uvred
throughout that night. After several hours of ineffectual efforts to
bring their enemies fairly within reach of their guns, after the moon
had risen, the French gave the matter up for a time, shortening sail
while most of their superior officers caught a little rest.

The sun was just rising, as Galleygo laid his hand on the shoulder of
the vice-admiral, agreeably to orders given the previous night. The
touch sufficed: Sir Gervaise being wide awake in an instant. "Well," he
said, rising to a sitting attitude, and putting the question which first
occurs to a seaman, "how's the weather?"

"A good top-gallant breeze, Sir Jarvy, and just what's this ship's play.
If you'd only let her out, and on them Johnny Crapauds, she'd be down
among 'em, in half an hour, like a hawk upon a chicken. I ought to
report to your honour, that the last chicken will be dished for
breakfast unless we gives an order to the gun-room steward to turn us
over some of his birds, as pay for what the pigs eat; which were real
capons."

"Why, you pirate, you would not have me commit a robbery, on the high
seas, would ye?"

"What robbery would it be to order the gun-room to _sell_ us some
poultry. Lord! Sir Jarvy, I'm as far from wishing to take a thing
without an order, as the gunner's yeoman; but, let Mr. Atwood put it in
black and white."

"Tush!" interrupted the master. "How did the French bear from us, when
you were last on deck?"

"Why, there they is, Sir Jarvy," answered Galleygo, drawing the curtain
from before the state-room window, and allowing the vice-admiral to see
the rear of the French line for himself, by turning half round; "and
just where we wants 'em. Their leading ship a little abaft our lee-beam,
distant one league. That's what I calls satisfactory, now."

"Ay, that _is_ a good position, Master Galleygo. Was the prize in sight,
or were you too chicken-headed to look."

"I chicken-headed! Well, Sir Jarvy, of all characters and descriptions
of _me_, that your honour has seen fit to put abroad, this is the most
unjustest; chickens being a food I never thinks on, off soundings.
Pig-headed you might in reason call me, Sir Jarvy; for I _do_ looks
arter the pigs, which is the only real stand-by in a ship; but I never
dreams of a chicken, except for _your_ happetite. When they was eight on
'em--"

"Was the prize in sight?" demanded Sir Gervaise, a little sharply.

"No, Sir Jarvy; she had disappeared, and the Druid with her. But this
isn't all, sir; for they does say, some'at has befallen the Carnatic,
she having gone out of our line, like a binnacle-lamp at eight bells."

"Ay, _she_ is not visible, either."

"Not so much as a hen-coop, Sir Jarvy! We all wonders what has become of
Captain Parker; no sign of him or of his ship is to be found on the
briny ocean. The young gentlemen of the watch laugh, and say she must
have gone up in a waterspout, but they laughs so much at misfortins,
generally, that I never minds 'em."

"Have you had a good look-out at the ocean, this morning, Master
Galleygo," asked Sir Gervaise, drawing his head out of a basin of water,
for, by this time, he was half-dressed, and making his preparations for
the razor. "You used to have an eye for a chase, when we were in a
frigate, and ought to be able to tell me if Bluewater is in sight."

"Admiral Blue!--Well, Sir Jarvy, it _is_ remarkable, but I had just
rubbed his division out of my log, and forgotten all about it. There
_was_ a handful of craft, or so, off here to the nor'ard, at day-light,
but I never thought it was Admiral Blue, it being more nat'ral to
suppose him in his place, as usual, in the rear of our own line. Let me
see, Sir Jarvy, how many ships has we absent under Admiral Blue?"

"Why, the five two-deckers of his own division, to be sure, besides the
Ranger and the Gnat. Seven sail in all."

"Yes, that's just it! Well, your honour, there _was_ five sail to be
seen, out here to the nor'ard, as I told you, and, sure enough, it may
have been Admiral Blue, with all his craft."

By this time, Sir Gervaise had his face covered with lather, but he
forgot the circumstance in a moment. As the wind was at the north-west,
and the Plantagenet was on the larboard tack, looking in the direction
of the Bill of Portland, though much too far to the southward to allow
the land to be seen, his own larboard quarter-gallery window commanded a
good view of the whole horizon to windward. Crossing over from the
starboard state-room, which he occupied _ex-officio_, he opened the
window in question, and took a look for himself. There, sure enough, was
visible a squadron of five ships, in close order, edging leisurely down
on the two lines, under their top-sails, and just near enough to allow
it to be ascertained that their courses were not set. This sight
produced a sudden change in all the vice-admiral's movements. The
business of the toilet was resumed in haste, and the beard was mowed
with a slashing hand, that might have been hazardous in the motion of a
ship, but for the long experience of a sailor. This important part of
the operation was scarcely through, when Locker announced the presence
of Captain Greenly in the main cabin.

"What now, Greenly?--What now?" called out the vice-admiral, puffing as
he withdrew his head, again, from the basin--"What now, Greenly? Any
news from Bluewater?"

"I am happy to tell you, Sir Gervaise, he has been in sight more than an
hour, and is closing with us, though shyly and slowly. I would not let
you be called, as all was right, and I knew sleep was necessary to a
clear head."

"You have done quite right, Greenly; God willing, I intend this to be a
busy day! The French must see our rear division?"

"Beyond a doubt, sir, but they show no signs of making off. M. de
Vervillin will fight, I feel certain; though the experience of yesterday
may render him a little shy as to the mode."

"And his crippled ship?--Old Parker's friend--I take it _she_ is not
visible."

"You were quite right in your conjecture, Sir Gervaise; the crippled
ship is off, as is one of the frigates, no doubt to see her in. Blewet,
too, has gone well to windward of the French, though he can fetch into
no anchorage short of Portsmouth, if this breeze stand."

"Any haven will do. Our little success will animate the king's party,
and give it more _eclat_, perhaps, than it really merits. Let there be
no delay with the breakfast this morning, Greenly; it will be a busy
day."

"Ay--ay, sir," answered the captain in the sailor's usual manner;
"_that_ has been seen to already, as I have expected as much. Admiral
Bluewater keeps his ships in most beautiful order, sir! I do not think
the Caesar, which leads, is two cable's-length from the Dublin, the
sternmost vessel. He is driving four-in-hand, with a tight rein, too,
depend on it, sir."

At this instant, Sir Gervaise came out of his state-room, his coat in
his hand, and with a countenance that was thoughtful. He finished
dressing with an abstracted air, and would not have known the last
garment was on, had not Galleygo given a violent pull on its skirts, in
order to smooth the cloth about the shoulders.

"It is odd, that Bluewater should come down nearly before the wind, in a
line ahead, and not in a line abreast!" Sir Gervaise rejoined, as his
steward did this office for him.

"Let Admiral Blue alone, for doing what's right," put in Galleygo, in
his usual confident and sell-possessed manner. "By keeping his ships
astern of hisself, he can tell where to find 'em, and we understands
from experience, if Admiral Blue knows where to find a ship, he knows
how to use her."

Instead of rebuking this interference, which went a little further than
common, Greenly was surprised to see the vice-admiral look his steward
intently in the face, as if the man had expressed some shrewd and
comprehensive truth. Then turning to his captain, Sir Gervaise intimated
an intention of going on deck to survey the state of things with his own
eyes.

CHAPTER XXVII.

"_Thou_ shouldst have died, O high-soul'd chief!
In those bright days of glory fled,
When triumph so prevailed o'er grief,
We scarce would mourn the dead."

MRS. HEMANS.

The eventful day opened with most of the glories of a summer's morning.
The wind alone prevented it from being one of the finest sun-risings of
July. That continued fresh, at north-west, and, consequently, cool for
the season. The seas of the south-west gale had entirely subsided, and
were already succeeded by the regular but comparatively trilling swell
of the new breeze. For large ships, it might be called smooth water;
though the Driver and Active showed by their pitching and unsteadiness,
and even the two-deckers, by their waving masts, that the unquiet ocean
was yet in motion. The wind seemed likely to stand, and was what seamen
would be apt to call a good six-knot breeze.

To leeward, still distant about a league, lay the French vessels, drawn
up in beautiful array, and in an order so close, and a line so regular,
as to induce the belief that M. de Vervillin had made his dispositions
to receive the expected attack, in his present position. All his
main-top-sails lay flat aback; the top-gallant-sails were flying loose,
but with buntlings and clew-lines hauled up; the jibs were fluttering to
leeward of their booms, and the courses were hanging in festoons beneath
their yards. This was gallant fighting-canvass, and it excited the
admiration of even his enemies. To increase this feeling, just as Sir
Gervaise's foot reached the poop, the whole French line displayed their
ensigns, and _le Foudroyant_ fired a gun to windward.

"Hey! Greenly?" exclaimed the English commander-in-chief; "this is a
manly defiance, and coming from M. de Vervillin, it means something! He
wishes to take the day for it; though, as I think half that time will
answer, we will wash up the cups before we go at it. Make the signals,
Bunting, for the ships to heave-to, and then to get their breakfasts, as
fast as possible. Steady breeze--steady breeze, Greenly, and all we
want!"

Five minutes later, while Sir Gervaise was running his eye over the
signal-book, the Plantagenet's calls were piping the people to their
morning meal, at least an hour earlier than common; the people repaired
to their messes, with a sort of stern joy; every man in the ship
understanding the reason of a summons so unusual. The calls of the
vessels astern were heard soon after, and one of the officers who was
watching the enemy with a glass, reported that he thought the French
were breakfasting, also. Orders being given to the officers to employ
the next half hour in the same manner, nearly everybody was soon engaged
in eating; few thinking that the meal might probably be their last. Sir
Gervaise felt a concern, which he succeeded in concealing, however, at
the circumstance that the ships to windward made no more sail; though he
refrained from signalling the rear-admiral to that effect, from
tenderness to his friend, and a vague apprehension of what might be the
consequences. While the crews were eating, he stood gazing,
thoughtfully, at the noble spectacle the enemy offered, to leeward,
occasionally turning wistful glances at the division that was constantly
drawing nearer to windward. At length Greenly, himself, reported that
the Plantagenet had "turned the hands-to," again. At this intelligence,
Sir Gervaise started, as from a reverie, smiled, and spoke. We will here
remark, that now, as on the previous day, all the natural excitability
of manner had disappeared from the commander-in-chief, and he was quiet,
and exceedingly gentle in his deportment. This, all who knew him,
understood to denote a serious determination to engage.

"I have desired Galleygo to set my little table, half an hour hence, in
the after-cabin, Greenly, and you will share the meal with me. Sir
Wycherly will be of our party, and I hope it will not be the last time
we may meet at the same board. It is necessary every thing should be in
fighting-order to-day!"

"So I understand it, Sir Gervaise. We are ready to begin, as soon as the
order shall be received."

"Wait one moment until Bunting comes up from his breakfast. Ah! here he
is, and we are quite ready for him, having bent-on the signal in his
absence. Show the order, Bunting; for the day advances."

The little flags were fluttering at the main-top-gallant-mast-head of
the Plantagenet in less than one minute, and in another it was repeated
by the Chloe, Driver, and Active, all of which were lying-to, a quarter
of a mile to windward, charged in particular with this, among other
duties. So well was this signal known, that not a book in the fleet was
consulted, but all the ships answered, the instant the flags could be
seen and understood. Then the shrill whistles were heard along the line,
calling "All hands" to "clear ship for action, ahoy!"

No sooner was this order given in the Plantagenet, than the ship became
a scene of active but orderly exertion. The top-men were on the yards,
stoppering, swinging the yards in chains, and lashing, in order to
prevent shot from doing more injury than was unavoidable; bulwarks were
knocked down; mess-chest, bags, and all other domestic appliances,
disappeared _below_,[3] and the decks were cleared of every thing which
could be removed, and which would not be necessary in an engagement.
Fully a quarter of an hour was thus occupied, for there was no haste,
and as it was no moment of mere parade, it was necessary that the work
should be effectually done. The officers forbade haste, and nothing
important was reported as effected, that some one in authority did not
examine with his own eyes, to see that no proper care had been
neglected. Then Mr. Bury, the first lieutenant, went on the main-yard,
in person, to look at the manner in which it had been slung, while he
sent the boatswain up forward, on the same errand. These were unusual
precautions, but the word had passed through the ship "that Sir Jarvy
was in earnest;" and whenever it was known that "Sir Jarvy" was in such
a humour, every one understood that the day's work was to be hard, if
not long.

[Footnote 3: In the action of the Nile, many of the French ships, under
the impression that the enemy _must_ engage on the _outside_, put their
lumber, bags, &c., into the ports, and between the guns, in the
larboard, or _inshore_ batteries; and when the British anchored
_inshore_ of them, these batteries could not be used.]

"Our breakfast is ready, Sir Jarvy," reported Galleygo, "and as the
decks is all clear, the b'ys can make a clean run of it from the
coppers. I only wants to know when to serve it, your honour."

"Serve it now, my good fellow. Tell the Bowlderos to be nimble, and
expect us below. Come, Greenly--come, Wychecombe--we are the last to
eat--let us not be the last at our stations."

"Ship's clear, sir," reported Bury to his captain, as the three reached
the quarter-deck, on their way to the cabin.

"Very well, Bury; when the fleet is signalled to go to quarters, we will
obey with the rest."

As this was said, Greenly looked at the vice-admiral to catch his
wishes. But Sir Gervaise had no intention of fatiguing his people
unnecessarily. He had left his private orders with Bunting, and he
passed down without an answer or a glance. The arrangements in the
after-cabin were as snug and as comfortable as if the breakfast-table
had been set in a private house, and the trio took their seats and
commenced operations with hearty good will. The vice-admiral ordered the
doors thrown open, and as the port-lids were up, from the place where he
sat he could command glimpses, both to leeward and to windward, that
included a view of the enemy, as well as one of his own expected
reinforcements. The Bowlderos were in full livery, and more active and
attentive than usual even. Their station in battle--for no man on board
a vessel of war is an "_idler_" in a combat--was on the poop, as
musketeers, near the person of their master, whose colours they wore,
under the ensign of their prince, like vassals of an ancient baron.
Notwithstanding the crisis of the morning, however, these men performed
their customary functions with the precision and method of English
menials, omitting no luxury or usage of the table. On a sofa behind the
table, was spread the full dress-coat of a vice-admiral, then a neat but
plain uniform, without either lace or epaulettes, but decorated with a
rich star in brilliants, the emblem of the order of the Bath. This coat
Sir Gervaise always wore in battle, unless the weather rendered a
"storm-uniform," as he used to term a plainer attire, necessary.

The breakfast passed off pleasantly, the gentlemen eating as if no
momentous events were near. Just at its close, however, Sir Gervaise
leaned forward, and looking through one of the weather-ports of the
main-cabin, an expression of pleasure illuminated his countenance, as he
said--

"Ah! there go Bluewater's signals, at last!--a certain proof that he is
about to put himself in communication with us."

"I have been a good deal surprised, sir," observed Greenly, a little
drily, though with great respect of manner, "that you have not ordered
the rear-admiral to make more sail. He is jogging along like a heavy
wagon, and yet I hardly think he can mistake these five ships for
Frenchmen!"

"He is never in a hurry, and no doubt wishes to let _his_ crews
breakfast, before he closes. I'll warrant ye, now, gentlemen, that his
ships are at this moment all as clear as a church five minutes after the
blessing has been pronounced."

"It will not be one of our Virginian churches, then, Sir Gervaise,"
observed Wycherly, smiling; "_they_ serve for an exchange, to give and
receive news in, after the service is over."

"Ay, that's the old rule--first pray, and then gossip. Well, Bunting,
what does the rear-admiral say?"

"Upon my word, Sir Gervaise, I can make nothing of the signal, though it
is easy enough to make out the flags," answered the puzzled
signal-officer. "Will you have the goodness to look at the book
yourself, sir. The number is one hundred and forty."

"One hundred and forty! Why, that must have something to do with
anchoring!--ay, here it is. 'Anchor, I cannot, having lost my cables.'
Who the devil asked him to anchor?"

"That's just it, sir. The signal-officer on board the Caesar must have
made some mistake in his flags; for, though the distance is
considerable, our glasses are good enough to read them."

"Perhaps Admiral Bluewater has set the private, personal, telegraph at
work, sir," quietly observed Greenly.

The commander-in-chief actually changed colour at this suggestion. His
face, at first, flushed to crimson; then it became pale, like the
countenance of one who suffered under acute bodily pain. Wycherly
observed this, and respectfully inquired if Sir Gervaise were ill.

"I thank you, young sir," answered the vice-admiral, smiling painfully;
"it is over. I believe I shall have to go into dock, and let Magrath
look at some of my old hurts, which _are_ sometimes troublesome. Mr.
Bunting, do me the favour to go on deck, and ascertain, by a careful
examination, if a short red pennant be not set some ten or twelve feet
above the uppermost flag. Now, Greenly, we will take the other cup of
tea, for there is plenty of leisure."

Two or three brooding minutes followed. Then Bunting returned to say the
pennant _was_ there, a fact he had quite overlooked in his former
observations, confounding the narrow flag in question with the regular
pennant of the king. This short red pennant denoted that the
communication was verbal, according to a method invented by Bluewater
himself, and by means of which, using the ordinary numbers, he was
enabled to communicate with his friend, without any of the captains, or,
indeed, without Sir Gervaise's own signal-officer's knowing what was
said. In a word, without having recourse to any new flags, but, by
simply giving new numbers to the old ones, and referring to a prepared
dictionary, it was possible to hold a conversation in sentences, that
should be a secret to all but themselves. Sir Gervaise took down the
number of the signal that was flying, and directed Bunting to show the
answering flag, with a similar pennant over it, and to continue this
operation so long as the rear-admiral might make his signals. The
numbers were to be sent below as fast as received. As soon as Bunting
disappeared, the vice-admiral unlocked a secretary, the key of which was
never out of his own possession, took from it a small dictionary, and
laid it by his plate. All this time the breakfast proceeded, signals of
this nature frequently occurring between the two admirals. In the course
of the next ten minutes, a quarter-master brought below a succession of
numbers written on small pieces of paper; after which Bunting appeared
himself to say that the Caesar had stopped signalling.

Sir Gervaise now looked out each word by its proper number, and wrote it
down with his pencil as he proceeded, until the whole read--"God
sake--make no signal. Engage not." No sooner was the communication
understood, than the paper was torn into minute fragments, the book
replaced, and the vice-admiral, turning with a calm determined
countenance to Greenly, ordered him to beat to quarters as soon as
Bunting could show a signal to the fleet to the same effect. On this
hint, all but the vice-admiral went on deck, and the Bowlderos instantly
set about removing the table and all the other appliances. Finding
himself annoyed by the movements of the servants, Sir Gervaise walked
out into the great cabin, which, regardless of its present condition, he
began to pace as was his wont when lost in thought. The bulk-heads being
down, and the furniture removed, this was in truth walking in sight of
the crew. All who happened to be on the main-deck could see what passed,
though no one presumed to enter a spot that was tabooed to vulgar feet,
even when thus exposed. The aspect and manner of "Sir Jarvy," however,
were not overlooked, and the men prognosticated a serious time.

Such was the state of things, when the drums beat to quarters,
throughout the whole line. At the first tap, the great cabin sunk to the
level of an ordinary battery; the seamen of two guns, with the proper
officers, entering within the sacred limits, and coolly setting about
clearing their pieces, and making the other preparations necessary for
an action. All this time Sir Gervaise continued pacing what would have
been the centre of his own cabin had the bulk-heads stood, the
grim-looking sailors avoiding him with great dexterity, and invariably
touching their hats as they were compelled to glide near his person,
though every thing went on as if he were not present. Sir Gervaise might
have remained lost in thought much longer than he did, had not the
report of a gun recalled him to a consciousness of the scene that was
enacting around him.

"What's that?" suddenly demanded the vice-admiral--"Is Blue water
signalling again?"

"No, Sir Gervaise," answered the fourth lieutenant, looking out of a lee
port; "it is the French admiral giving us another weather-gun; as much
as to ask why we don't go down. This is the second compliment of the
same sort that he has paid us already to-day!"

These words were not all spoken before the vice-admiral was on the
quarter-deck; in half a minute more, he was on the poop. Here he found
Greenly, Wychecombe, and Bunting, all looking with interest at the
beautiful line of the enemy.

"Monsieur de Vervillin is impatient to wipe off the disgrace of
yesterday," observed the first, "as is apparent by the invitations he
gives us to come down. I presume Admiral Bluewater will wake up at this
last hint."

"By Heaven, he has hauled his wind, and is standing to the northward and
eastward!" exclaimed Sir Gervaise, surprise overcoming all his
discretion. "Although an extraordinary movement, at such a time, it is
wonderful in what beautiful order Bluewater keeps his ships!"

All that was said was true enough. The rear-admiral's division having
suddenly hauled up, in a close line ahead, each ship followed her leader
as mechanically as if they moved by a common impulse. As no one in the
least doubted the rear-admiral's loyalty, and his courage was of proof,
it was the general opinion that this unusual man[oe]uvre had some
connection with the unintelligible signals, and the young officers
laughingly inquired among themselves what "Sir Jarvy was likely to do
next?"

It would seem, however, that Monsieur de Vervillin suspected a
repetition of some of the scenes of the preceding day; for, no sooner
did he perceive that the English rear was hugging the wind, than five of
his leading ships filled, and drew ahead, as if to meet that division,
man[oe]uvring to double on the head of his line; while the remaining
five, with the Foudroyant, still lay with their top-sails to the mast,
waiting for their enemy to come down. Sir Gervaise could not stand this
long. He determined, if possible, to bring Bluewater to terms, and he
ordered the Plantagenet to fill. Followed by his own division, he wore
immediately, and went off under easy sail, quartering, towards Monsieur
de Vervillin's rear, to avoid being raked.

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