Hippolyte A. Taine - "The Origins of Contemporary France, Volume 3"

Alexandre Dumas - "Bric à brac"

Henry David Thoreau - "A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers"

Various - "Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, No. 327"

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 quarter of an hour that succeeded was one of intense interest, and
of material changes; though not a shot was fired. As soon as the Comte
de Vervillin perceived that the English were disposed to come nearer, he
signalled his own division to bear up, and to run off dead before the
wind, under their top-sails, commencing astern; which reversed his order
of sailing, and brought le Foudroyant in the rear, or nearest to the
enemy. This was no sooner done, than he settled all his top-sails on the
caps. There could be no mistaking this man[oe]uvre. It was a direct
invitation to Sir Gervaise to come down, fairly alongside; the bearing
up at once removing all risk of being raked in so doing. The English
commander-in-chief was not a man to neglect such a palpable challenge;
but, making a few signals to direct the mode of attack he contemplated,
he set fore-sail and main-top-gallant-sail, and brought the wind directly
over his own taffrail. The vessels astern followed like clock-work, and
no one now doubted that the mode of attack was settled for that day.

As the French, with Monsieur de Vervillin, were still half a mile to the
southward and eastward of the approaching division, of their enemy, the
Comte collected all his frigates and corvettes on his starboard hand,
leaving a clear approach to Sir Gervaise on his larboard beam. This hint
was understood, too, and the Plantagenet steered a course that would
bring her up on that side of le Foudroyant, and at the distance of about
one hundred yards from the muzzles of her guns. This threatened to be
close work, and unusual work in fleets, at that day; but it was the game
our commander-in-chief was fond of playing, and it was one, also, that
promised soonest to bring matters to a result.

These preliminaries arranged, there was yet leisure for the respective
commanders to look about them. The French were still fully a mile ahead
of their enemies, and as both fleets were going in the same direction,
the approach of the English was so slow as to leave some twenty minutes
of that solemn breathing time, which reigns in a disciplined ship,
previous to the commencement of the combat. The feelings of the two
commanders-in-chief, at this pregnant instant, were singularly in
contradiction to each other. The Comte de Vervillin saw that the rear
division of his force, under the Comte-Amiral le Vicomte des Prez, was
in the very position he desired it to be, having obtained the advantage
of the wind by the English division's coming down, and by keeping its
own luff. Between the two French officers there was a perfect
understanding as to the course each was to take, and both now felt
sanguine hopes of being able to obliterate the disgrace of the previous
day, and that, too, by means very similar to those by which it had been
incurred. On the other hand, Sir Gervaise was beset with doubts as to
the course Bluewater might pursue. He could not, however, come to the
conclusion that he would abandon him to the joint efforts of the two
hostile divisions; and so long as the French rear-admiral was occupied
by the English force to windward, it left to himself a clear field and
no favour in the action with Monsieur de Vervillin. He knew Bluewater's
generous nature too well not to feel certain his own compliance with the
request not to signal his inferior would touch his heart, and give him a
double chance with all his better feelings. Nevertheless, Sir Gervaise
Oakes did not lead into this action without many and painful misgivings.
He had lived too long in the world not to know that political prejudice
was the most demoralising of all our weaknesses, veiling our private
vices under the plausible concealment of the public weal, and rendering
even the well-disposed insensible to the wrongs they commit to
individuals, by means of the deceptive flattery of serving the
community. As doubt was more painful than the certainty of his worst
forebodings, however, and it was not in his nature to refuse a combat so
fairly offered, he was resolved to close with the Comte at every hazard,
trusting the issue to God, and his own efforts.

The Plantagenet presented an eloquent picture of order and preparation,
as she drew near the French line, on this memorable occasion. Her people
were all at quarters, and, as Greenly walked through her batteries, he
found every gun on the starboard side loose, levelled, and ready to be
fired; while the opposite merely required a turn or two of the tackles
to be cast loose, the priming to be applied, and the loggerhead to
follow, in order to be discharged, also. A death-like stillness reigned
from the poop to the cock-pit, the older seamen occasionally glancing
through their ports in order to ascertain the relative positions of the
two fleets, that they might be ready for the collision. As the English
got within musket-shot, the French ran their top-sails to the mast-heads,
and their ships gathered fresher way through the water. Still the former
moved with the greatest velocity, carrying the most sail, and impelled
by the greater momentum. When near enough, however, Sir Gervaise gave
the order to reduce the canvass of his own ship.

"That will do, Greenly," he said, in a mild, quiet tone. "Let run the
top-gallant-halyards, and haul up the fore-sail. The way you have, will
bring you fairly alongside."

The captain gave the necessary orders, and the master shortened sail
accordingly. Still the Plantagenet shot ahead, and, in three or four
minutes more, her bows doubled so far on le Foudroyant's quarter, as to
permit a gun to bear. This was the signal for both sides, each ship
opening as it might be in the same breath. The flash, the roar, and the
eddying smoke followed in quick succession, and in a period of time that
seemed nearly instantaneous. The crash of shot, and the shrieks of
wounded mingled with the infernal din, for nature extorts painful
concessions of human weaknesses, at such moments, even from the bravest
and firmest. Bunting was in the act of reporting to Sir Gervaise that no
signal could yet be seen from the Caesar, in the midst of this uproar,
when a small round-shot, discharged from the Frenchman's poop, passed
through his body, literally driving the heart before it, leaving him
dead at his commander's feet.

"I shall depend on you, Sir Wycherly, for the discharge of poor
Bunting's duty, the remainder of the cruise," observed Sir Gervaise,
with a smile in which courtesy and regret struggled singularly for the
mastery. "Quarter-masters, lay Mr. Bunting's body a little out of the
way, and cover it with those signals. They are a suitable pall for so
brave a man!"

Just as this occurred, the Warspite came clear of the Plantagenet, on
her outside, according to orders, and she opened with her forward guns,
taking the second ship in the French line for her target. In two minutes
more these vessels also were furiously engaged in the hot strife. In
this manner, ship after ship passed on the outside of the Plantagenet,
and sheered into her berth ahead of her who had just been her own
leader, until the Achilles, Lord Morganic, the last of the five, lay
fairly side by side with le Conquereur, the vessel now at the head of
the French line. That the reader may understand the incidents more
readily, we will give the opposing lines in the precise form in which
they lay, viz.

Plantagenet le Foudroyant

Warspite le Temeraire

Blenheim le Dugay Trouin

Thunderer l'Ajax

Achilles le Conquereur.

The constantly recurring discharges of four hundred pieces of heavy
ordnance, within a space so small, had the effect to repel the regular
currents of air, and, almost immediately, to lessen a breeze of six or
seven knots, to one that would not propel a ship more than two or three.
This was the first observable phenomenon connected with the action, but,
as it had been expected, Sir Gervaise had used the precaution to lay his
ships as near as possible in the positions in which he intended them to
fight the battle. The next great physical consequence, one equally
expected and natural, but which wrought a great change in the aspect of
the battle, was the cloud of smoke in which the ten ships were suddenly
enveloped. At the first broadsides between the two admirals, volumes of
light, fleecy vapour rolled over the sea, meeting midway, and rising
thence in curling wreaths, left nothing but the masts and sails of the
adversary visible in the hostile ship. This, of itself, would have soon
hidden the combatants in the bosom of a nearly impenetrable cloud; but
as the vessels drove onward they entered deeper beneath the sulphurous
canopy, until it spread on each side of them, shutting out the view of
ocean, skies, and horizon. The burning of the priming below contributed
to increase the smoke, until, not only was respiration often difficult,
but those who fought only a few yards apart frequently could not
recognise each other's faces. In the midst of this scene of obscurity,
and a din that might well have alarmed the caverns of the ocean, the
earnest and well-drilled seamen toiled at their ponderous guns, and
remedied with ready hands the injuries received in the rigging, each man
as intent on his own particular duty as if he wrought in the occupations
of an ordinary gale.

"Sir Wycherly," observed the vice-admiral, when the cannonading had
continued some twenty minutes, "there is little for a flag-officer to do
in such a cloud of smoke. I would give much to know the exact positions
of the divisions of our two rear-admirals."

"There is but one mode of ascertaining that, Sir Gervaise--if it be your
pleasure, I will attempt it. By going on the main-top-gallant-yard, one
might get a clear view, perhaps."

Sir Gervaise smiled his approbation, and presently he saw the young man
ascending the main-rigging, though half concealed in smoke. Just at this
instant, Greenly ascended to the poop, from making a tour of observation
below. Without waiting for a question, the captain made his report.

"We are doing pretty well, now, Sir Gervaise, though the first broadside
of the Comte treated us roughly. I think his fire slackens, and Bury
says, he is certain that his fore-top-mast is already gone. At all
events, our lads are in good spirits, and as yet all the sticks keep
their places."

"I'm glad of this, Greenly; particularly of the latter, just at this
moment. I see you are looking at those signals--they cover the body of
poor Bunting."

"And this train of blood to the ladder, sir--I hope our young baronet is
not hurt?"

"No, it is one of the Bowlderos, who has lost a leg. I shall have to see
that he wants for nothing hereafter."

There was a pause; then both the gentlemen smiled, as they heard the
crashing work made by a shot just beneath them, which, by the sounds and
the direction, they knew had passed through Greenly's crockery. Still
neither spoke. After a few more minutes of silent observation, Sir
Gervaise remarked that he thought the flashes of the French guns more
distant than they had been at first, though, at that instant, not a
trace of their enemy was to be discovered, except in the roar of the
guns, and in these very flashes, and their effect on the Plantagenet.

"If so, sir, the Comte begins to find his berth too hot for him; here is
the wind still directly over _our_ taffrail, such as it is."

"No--no--we steer as we began--I keep my eye on that compass below, and
am certain we hold a straight course. Go forward, Greenly, and see that
a sharp look-out is kept ahead. It is time some of our own ships should
be crippled; we must be careful not to run into them. Should such a
thing happen sheer hard to starboard, and pass _inside_."

"Ay--ay--Sir Gervaise; your wishes shall be attended to."

As this was said, Greenly disappeared, and, at the next instant,
Wycherly stood in his place.

"Well, sir--I am glad to see you back safe. If Greenly were here now,
_he_ would inquire about his _masts_, but _I_ wish to know the position
of the _ships_."

"I am the bearer of bad news, sir. Nothing at all could be seen from the
top; but in the cross-trees, I got a good look through the smoke, and am
sorry to say the French rear-admiral is coming down fast on our
larboard-quarter, with all his force. We shall have him abeam in five
minutes."

"And Bluewater?" demanded Sir Gervaise, quick as lightning.

"I could see nothing of Admiral Bluewater's ships; but knowing the
importance of this intelligence, I came down immediately, and by the
back-stay."

"You have done well, sir. Send a midshipman forward for Captain Greenly;
then pass below yourself, and let the lieutenants in the batteries hear
the news. They must divide their people, and by all means give a prompt
and well-directed _first_ broadside."

Wycherly waited for no more. He ran below with the activity of his
years. The message found Greenly between the knight-heads, but he
hurried aft to the poop to ascertain its object. It took Sir Gervaise
but a moment to explain it all to the captain.

"In the name of Heaven, what can the other division be about," exclaimed
Greenly, "that it lets the French rear-admiral come upon us, in a moment
like this!"

"Of that, sir, it is unnecessary to speak _now_," answered the
commander-in-chief, solemnly. "Our present business is to get ready for
this new enemy. Go into the batteries again, and, as you prize victory,
be careful not to throw away the first discharge, in the smoke."

As time pressed, Greenly swallowed his discontent, and departed. The
five minutes that succeeded were bitter minutes to Sir Gervaise Oakes.
Beside himself there were but five men on the poop; viz., the
quarter-master who tended the signals, and three of the Bowlderos. All
of these were using muskets as usual, though the vice-admiral never
permitted marines to be stationed at a point which he wished to be as
clear of smoke, and as much removed from bustle as possible. He began to
pace this comparatively vacant little deck with a quick step, casting
wistful glances towards the larboard-quarter; but though the smoke
occasionally cleared a little in that direction, the firing having much
slackened from exhaustion in the men, as well as from injuries given and
received, he was unable to detect any signs of a ship. Such was the
state of things when Wycherly returned and reported that his orders
were delivered, and part of the people were already in the
larboard-batteries.




CHAPTER XXVIII.

"And oh, the little warlike world within!
The well-reeved guns, the netted canopy,
The hoarse command, the busy humming din.
When at a word, the tops are manned on high:
Hark to the boatswain's call, the cheering cry!
While through the seaman's hand the tackle glides,
Or school-boy midshipman, that, standing by,
Strains his shrill pipe, as good or ill betides,
And well the docile crew that skilful urchin guides."

BYRON.


"Are you quite sure, Sir Wycherly Wychecombe, that there is not some
mistake about the approach of the rear division of the French?" inquired
the vice-admiral, endeavouring to catch some glimpse of the water,
through the smoke on the larboard hand. "May not some crippled ship of
our own have sheered from the line, and been left by us, unknowingly, on
that side?"

"No, Sir Gervaise, there is _no_ mistake; there _can_ be none, unless I
may have been deceived a little in the distance. I saw nothing but the
sails and spars, not of a single vessel, but of _three_ ships; and one
of them wore the flag of a French rear-admiral at the mizzen. As a proof
that I was not mistaken, sir, there it is this minute!"

The smoke on the off side of the Plantagenet, as a matter of course, was
much less dense than that on the side engaged, and the wind beginning to
blow in eddies, as ever happens in a heavy cannonade, there were moments
in which it cast aside the "shroud of battle." At that instant an
opening occurred through which a single mast, and a single sail were
visible, in the precise spot where Wycherly had stated the enemy might
be looked for. It was a mizzen-top-sail, beyond a question, and above it
was fluttering the little square flag of the rear-admiral. Sir Gervaise
decided on the character of the vessel, and on his own course, in an
instant. Stepping to the edge of the poop, with his natural voice,
without the aid of a trumpet of any sort, he called out in tones that
rose above the roar of the contest, the ominous but familiar nautical
words of "stand by!" Perhaps a call from powerful lungs (and the
vice-admiral's voice, when he chose to use it, was like the blast of a
clarion) is clearer and more impressive, when unaided by instruments,
than when it comes disguised and unnatural through a tube. At any rate,
these words were heard even on the lower deck, by those who stood near
the hatches. Taking them up, they were repeated by a dozen voices, with
such expressions as "Look out, lads; Sir Jarvy's awake!" "Sight your
guns!" "Wait till she's square!" and other similar admonitions that it
is usual for the sea-officer to give, as he is about to commence the
strife. At this critical moment, Sir Gervaise again looked up, and
caught another glimpse of the little flag, as it passed into a vast
wreath of smoke; he saw that the ship was fairly abeam, and, as if
doubling all his powers, he shouted the word "fire!" Greenly was
standing on the lower-deck ladder, with his head just even with the
coamings of the hatch, as this order reached him, and he repeated it in
a voice scarcely less startling. The cloud on the larboard side was
driven in all directions, like dust scattered by wind. The ship seemed
on fire, and the missiles of forty-one guns flew on their deadly errand,
as it might be at a single flash. The old Plantagenet trembled to her
keel, and even bowed a little at the recoils, but, like one suddenly
relieved from a burthen, righted and went on her way none the less
active. That timely broadside saved the English commander-in-chiefs ship
from an early defeat. It took the crew of le Pluton, her new adversary,
by surprise; for they had not been able to distinguish the precise
position of their enemy; and, besides doing vast injury to both hull and
people, drew her fire at an unpropitious moment. So uncertain and hasty,
indeed, was the discharge the French ship gave in return, that no small
portion of the contents of her guns passed ahead of the Plantagenet, and
went into the larboard quarter of le Temeraire, the French admiral's
second ahead.

"That was a timely salute," said Sir Gervaise, smiling as soon as the
fire of his new enemy had been received without material injury. "The
first blow is always half the battle. We may now work on with some hopes
of success. Ah! here comes Greenly again, God be praised! unhurt."

The meeting of these two experienced seamen was cordial, but not without
great seriousness. Both felt that the situation of not only the ship,
but of the whole fleet, was extremely critical, the odds being much too
great, and the position of the enemy too favourable, not to render the
result, to say the very least, exceedingly doubtful. Some advantage had
certainly been obtained, thus far; but there was little hope of
preserving it long. The circumstances called for very decided and
particularly bold measures.

"My mind is made up, Greenly," observed the vice-admiral. "We must go
aboard of one of these ships, and make it a hand-to-hand affair. We will
take the French commander-in-chief; he is evidently a good deal cut up
by the manner in which his fire slackens, and if we can carry him, or
even force him out of the line, it will give us a better chance with the
rest. As for Bluewater, God only knows what has become of him! He is not
here at any rate, and we must help ourselves."

"You have only to order, Sir Gervaise, to be obeyed. I will lead the
boarders, myself."

"It must be a general thing, Greenly; I rather think we shall all of us
have to go aboard of le Foudroyant. Go, give the necessary orders, and
when every thing is ready, round in a little on the larboard braces,
clap your helm a-port, and give the ship a rank sheer to starboard. This
will bring matters to a crisis at once. By letting the fore-sail fall,
and setting the spanker, you might shove the ship ahead a little
faster."

Greenly instantly left the poop on this new and important duty. He sent
his orders into the batteries, bidding the people remain at their guns,
however, to the last moment; and particularly instructing the captain of
marines, as to the manner in which he was to cover, and then follow the
boarding-party. This done, he gave orders to brace forward the yards, as
directed by Sir Gervaise.

The reader will not overlook the material circumstance that all we have
related occurred amid the din of battle. Guns were exploding at each
instant, the cloud of smoke was both thickening and extending, fire was
flashing in the semi-obscurity of its volumes, shot were rending the
wood and cutting the rigging, and the piercing shrieks of agony, only so
much the more appalling by being extorted from the stern and resolute,
blended their thrilling accompaniments. Men seemed to be converted into
demons, and yet there was a lofty and stubborn resolution to conquer
mingled with all, that ennobled the strife and rendered it heroic. The
broadsides that were delivered in succession down the line, as ship
after ship of the rear division reached her station, however, proclaimed
that Monsieur des Prez had imitated Sir Gervaise's mode of closing, the
only one by means of which the leading vessel could escape destruction,
and that the English were completely doubled on. At this moment, the
sail-trimmers of the Plantagenet handled their braces. The first pull
was the last. No sooner were the ropes started, than the fore-top-mast
went over the bows, dragging after it the main with all its hamper, the
mizzen snapping like a pipe-stem, at the cap. By this cruel accident,
the result of many injuries to shrouds, back-stays, and spars, the
situation of the Plantagenet became worse than ever; for, not only was
the wreck to be partially cleared, at least, to fight many of the
larboard guns, but the command of the ship was, in a great measure,
lost, in the centre of one of the most infernal _melees_ that ever
accompanied a combat at sea.

At no time does the trained seaman ever appear so great, as when he
meets sudden misfortunes with the steadiness and quiet which it is a
material part of the _morale_ of discipline to inculcate. Greenly was
full of ardour for the assault, and was thinking of the best mode of
running foul of his adversary, when this calamity occurred; but the
masts were hardly down, when he changed all his thoughts to a new
current, and called out to the sail-trimmers to "lay over, and clear the
wreck."

Sir Gervaise, too, met with a sudden and violent check to the current of
his feelings. He had collected his Bowlderos, and was giving his
instructions as to the manner in which they were to follow, and keep
near his person, in the expected hand-to-hand encounter, when the heavy
rushing of the air, and the swoop of the mass from above, announced what
had occurred. Turning to the men, he calmly ordered them to aid in
getting rid of the incumbrances, and was in the very act of directing
Wycherly to join in the same duty, when the latter exclaimed--

"See, Sir Gervaise, here comes another of the Frenchmen close upon our
quarter. By heavens, _they_ must mean to board!"

The vice-admiral instinctively grasped his sword-hilt tighter, and
turned in the direction mentioned by his companion. There, indeed, came
a fresh ship, shoving the cloud aside, and, by the clearer atmosphere
that seemed to accompany her, apparently bringing down a current of air
stronger than common. When first seen, the jib-boom and bowsprit were
both enveloped in smoke, but his bellying fore-top-sail, and the canvass
hanging in festoons, loomed grandly in the vapour, the black yards
seeming to embrace the wreaths, merely to cast them aside. The
proximity, too, was fearful, her yard-arms promising to clear those of
the Plantagenet only by a few feet, as her dark bows brushed along the
admiral's side.

"This will be fearful work, indeed!" exclaimed Sir Gervaise. "A fresh
broadside from a ship so near, will sweep all from the spars. Go,
Wychecombe, tell Greenly to call in--Hold--'Tis an English ship! No
Frenchman's bowsprit stands like that! Almighty God be praised! 'Tis the
Caesar--there is the old Roman's figure-head just shoving out of the
smoke!"

This was said with a yell, rather than a cry, of delight, and in a voice
so loud that the words were heard below, and flew through the ship like
the hissing of an ascending rocket. To confirm the glorious tidings, the
flash and roar of guns on the off-side of the stranger announced the
welcome tidings that le Pluton had an enemy of her own to contend with,
thus enabling the Plantagenet's people to throw all their strength on
the starboard guns, and pursue their other necessary work without
further molestation from the French rear-admiral. The gratitude of Sir
Gervaise, as the rescuing ship thrust herself in between him and his
most formidable assailant was too deep for language. He placed his hat
mechanically before his face, and thanked God, with a fervour of spirit
that never before had attended his thanksgivings. This brief act of
devotion over, he found the bows of the Caesar, which ship was advancing
very slowly, in order not to pass too far ahead, just abreast of the
spot where he stood, and so near that objects were pretty plainly
visible. Between her knight-heads stood Bluewater, conning the ship, by
means of a line of officers, his hat in his hand, waving in
encouragement to his own people, while Geoffrey Cleveland held the
trumpet at his elbow. At that moment three noble cheers were given by
the crews of the two friendly vessels, and mingled with the increasing
roar of the Caesar's artillery. Then the smoke rose in a cloud over the
forecastle of the latter ship, and persons could no longer be
distinguished.

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