Chapter 11

The rest of the crew, who had chosen to stay by the ship, remained on board for four days and nights, and, excepting nine, who perished from the severity of the weather, they all got safe on shore. The above is a plain, unvarnished account, taken from the narrative of Captain Bland: it is a true tale, and needs not the aid of romance to give it interest. For more than twenty-four hours the crew suffered the horrors of uncertainty; their vessel thrown upon a hostile shore, whose inhabitants were forbidden on pain of death to assist them, whilst of all their boats one only remained. Yet, even during this time of trial and danger, discipline was not for a moment abandoned; no man's heart appeared to fail him; each one performed his duty with cheerfulness and alacrity; and nobly did they all earn the praise bestowed on them by their commander.

'I cannot help paying here,' said Captain Bland, 'the last tribute of praise to my crew; they behaved with order, respect, and perfect coolness to the last moment; nor would they quit the ship's side in the barge, though at the risk of her being dashed to pieces, till I took the place they had reserved for me.'

The gallantry and seamanship displayed by Captain Otway Bland, when in command of the Espoir, 14-gun brig, in his attack and subsequent capture of a Genoese pirate, well deserve a place in these pages.

On the 7th of August, 1798, the Espoir was sailing near Gibraltar in charge of part of a convoy, when a large vessel, which appeared to be a man-of-war, was seen steering apparently with the intention of cutting off some of the convoy. Captain Bland, notwithstanding the superiority of the force with which he had to contend, determined upon attacking the stranger, which proved to be the Liguria, mounted with 26 guns of various calibres.

On approaching within hail, an officer on board the Liguria ordered the commander of the Espoir to surrender, or he would sink his ship, enforcing the demand by one shot, and afterwards by a whole broadside. The fire was returned in a spirited manner by the Espoir, and was kept up on both sides by the great guns and musketry for upwards of three hours, when the captain of the Liguria hailed the Espoir, begging her captain not to fire any more, as he was a Genoese. Upon this, Captain Bland desired him to lower his sails, and come on board. As no attention was paid to this demand, and the Genoese appeared to be attempting some manoeuvre, the Espoir poured in another broadside, which the Liguria returned; but on the Espoir tacking to fire her opposite broadside, her opponent surrendered.

The crew of the Liguria consisted, of one hundred and twenty men of all nations, whilst that of the Espoir was but eighty men, of which the master was killed, and six men wounded.

Captain Bland died in 1810.

THE AJAX.

On the evening of the 14th of February, 1807, H.M. ship Ajax, 74 guns, commanded by Captain the Hon. Sir Henry Blackwood, lay at anchor off the mouth of the Dardanelles, in company with the squadron of Vice-Admiral Sir John Duckworth. The wind, which during the day had been boisterous, was partially lulled, and in the clear moonlight every object was visible with a distinctness almost equal to that of day.

The scene from the deck of the Ajax was one of surpassing beauty and interest. The bright moonbeams rested on the waters, and left a silvery track upon the waves. Ahead and astern, the lofty masts of the squadron tapered darkly towards the sky, whilst the outline of every rope and spar was sharply defined against the clear blue vault of heaven. Every man in the ship, from the commander to the youngest boy, could feel and understand this natural beauty; but there were many on board the squadron who had still higher enjoyment, as they gazed on those isles and shores which recalled the classic verse of Homer and of Virgil. For them every island, cape, river, and mountain was fraught with interest. There lay Tenedos, renowned of old; there the mountain isle of Imbros stood out in bold relief from the snow-clad summits of Samothracia. In the distance appeared Mount Ida, and at its foot lay stretched the plains of Troy, o'er which the 'gulfy Simois' wanders still as it did of old. There is Cape Sigæum, and on it the tomb of Patroclus, round which Achilles dragged the godlike Hector's corpse; there, too, the ashes of Achilles repose near those of his friend; and a little further north, on the Rhoetian promontory, is the tomb of 'mighty Ajax.' Homer, Euripides, and Virgil have, it is true, a very small share in the studies of a youthful sailor, as they do not form an essential ingredient of a nautical education; but an English gentleman, although his head be crammed with mathematics and equations, always contrives to pick up enough of classic lore to enable him thoroughly to enjoy such a scene as that we have attempted to describe. He is much to be pitied who cannot appreciate such enjoyment; but in these days, when the schoolmaster is aboard, and when, by the wise liberality of the Government, our ships are furnished with useful and interesting books, none need of necessity be deprived of the exquisite pleasure which is to be derived from visiting scenes which have been 'dignified either by wisdom, bravery, or virtue.' We are constantly reminded that 'knowledge is power;' but it might be well to impress upon youngsters, that '_knowledge_ is enjoyment.' There is, indeed, no acquirement in literature or science that will not at some time or other be productive of real pleasure.

We have lingered on this subject longer than we should have done, for we must now relate how soon the tranquillity of that fair scene was disturbed--how for a time another light, redder and fiercer than that of the moon, shone on the blue waters of the Hellespont.

Soon after nine o'clock P.M., Captain Blackwood had received from his first lieutenant the report of the safety of the Ajax, and all, except the officers and men who were on duty, had retired to their berths. A very short time, however, had elapsed, before the stillness of the night was broken by the appalling cry of 'Fire!' It must be a fearful sound to hear--the cry of 'Fire!' as awful as the voice of him who

Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night, And would have told him half his Troy was burned.

The officer of the watch instantly informed Captain Blackwood of the alarm. He hastened upon deck, and found too surely that flames were bursting from the after-part. He gave orders to beat to quarters--to fire the guns as signals of distress, and directed Lieutenant Wood and a midshipman to proceed in one of the boats to all the ships of the squadron to request assistance.

These orders were promptly given, and promptly obeyed; but who can enter fully into the feelings of Captain Blackwood at that awfully critical moment. Here was his ship and six hundred men threatened with immediate destruction, and each one of that six hundred looked to him for direction and guidance.

In order to inspire others with courage and confidence, he must display decision in every look and gesture. Whatever others might do, his lip must not tremble, nor his eyelid quiver--no look of apprehension must be seen on his brow. He must stand forth calm and undaunted--the recollection of tender ties and loving hearts might wring his soul with agony, but these thoughts must be banished; the safety of six hundred human beings depended, under God, on his firmness and exertion, and every eye was directed to him in anxious inquiry. When the ship's company had turned out, every man took his station calmly and in obedience to orders.

The captain, followed by several of his officers, went down to the cockpit, from whence issued clouds of smoke. Every effort was made to extinguish the flames in that part of the ship, but they increased so rapidly, it soon became impossible for any one to remain below. Several of the men who were throwing down water fell from suffocation with the buckets in their hands. To give more air to the men so employed, the lower-deck ports were hauled up; but this rather increasing than diminishing the density of the smoke, they were closed again, and the after-hatchway shut down. The carpenter's attempt to scuttle the after-part of the ship was also ineffectual.

Ten or fifteen minutes only had elapsed after the first alarm had been given, before the flames raged with such fury, that it was impossible to hoist out the boats; the jolly-boat had fortunately been lowered in obedience to the captain's orders when he first went upon deck. As the flames burst up the main-hatchway, dividing the fore from the after-part of the ship, the captain ordered all hands to the forecastle, and seeing that it was utterly beyond human power to prevent the destruction of the vessel, he desired every man to provide for his own safety.

The silent plague through the green timber eats, And vomits out a tardy flame by fits; Down to the keels, and upwards to the sails, The fire descends, or mounts, but still prevails; Nor buckets pour'd, nor strength of human hand, Can the victorious element withstand. DRYDEN'S _Æneid, Book V_.

The luckless ship was now wrapped in flames from amidships to taffrail, and the scene of horror is beyond the powers of description. Hundreds of human beings were assembled together on the forecastle, bowsprit, and sprit-sail-yard. No boat had yet come to their assistance. Their perilous situation had levelled all distinction of rank; men and officers were huddled together, watching with despairing hearts the progress of the fiery element, which threatened to hurry them so quickly into eternity. Volumes of black smoke rose in huge pillars from all parts of the ship, whilst far above the hissing and crackling of the flames, as they ricked the masts and rigging, rose the shrieks and death yells of the hapless men, who, unable to gain the forecastle, had sought safety aloft, where the flames had now reached them.

Some, rather than endure the horrible suspense, trusted themselves to the mercy of the waves, and by plunging overboard, ended their lives and sufferings in a watery grave. Many, in their agony, fell on their knees, imploring God for that help which they despaired of receiving from mortal agency. Perhaps these men would not have thought of prayer to heaven in face of a human foe, but now that the 'last enemy' glared upon them in so fearful a shape, they felt compelled to fly to Him who hath said, 'Call upon me in the day of trouble.'

The booming of the guns, as they exploded, echoed far and wide over the waters, and added to the horrors of that awful night.

In the midst of his people stood the captain, endeavouring to sustain their sinking spirits, and exhorting them to be firm and to depend upon the boats which were now heaving in sight. He then bade them farewell, and sprung into the sea; he breasted the waves for a length of time, but his strength was nearly exhausted, when, happily, he was seen, and picked up by one of the boats of the Canopus.

As the boats from the squadron neared the Ajax, the agonizing fears of the sufferers were changed into wild transports of joy; so sudden was the transition from despair to hope, that many of the crew lost all self-possession, and perished by jumping into the sea in their impatience to reach the boats.

Such details as these, showing the effects of fear upon untutored minds, make us thankful that a great change for the better has been effected within the last forty years with respect to the religious and moral instruction of our sailors.

Every ship's company is exposed to casualties similar to that which befel the crew of the Ajax,--to shipwreck, fire, and sudden destruction,--and no man will deny that in times of extreme peril, a calm and composed mind is the greatest of blessings--the want of it, the greatest misery. Few will be sceptical enough to deny, on the other hand, that the best security for such composure, in a moment of unforeseen danger, or of unlooked-for deliverance, is a firm and sure trust that there is a God above, who 'ruleth over all;' whom the winds and the sea obey, and who is 'mighty to save,' even in the hour of man's direst extremity. To instil this knowledge and trust into the hearts of our seamen, and by it to make them both better men, and better sailors, should be the chief object of every improvement in education.

Lieut. Willoughby, of the St. George, had hastened in a cutter to assist the crew of the Ajax, and he very soon rescued as many men as his boat could carry. Numbers, however, were still surrounding him, who, for the safety of those in the already overladen boat, were, with much reluctance, left to their fate. Fortunately some launches and a barge arrived in time to pick them up, and convey them to the different ships of the squadron.

The Ajax all this time was drifting towards the island of Tenedos, with her stern and broadside alternately presented to the wind. The humane exertions of Lieutenant Willoughby had been twice crowned with success; his boat was, for the third time, nearly filled with people, when he observed the Ajax round to, and that several men were hanging by ropes under her head. He resolved, at all hazards, to rescue these poor fellows before she again fell off. Dashing, therefore, towards her, he succeeded in the first part of his object, but not until the vessel was again before the wind, flames issuing from every part of both hull and rigging, and with the cutter across her hawse.

To extricate himself from this perilous situation was almost impossible, for every moment increased the speed with which the Ajax was surging through the water, and the sea thrown up from her bows threatened his small boat with instant destruction.

We will now take up the account as given by Marshall, in his _Naval Biograghy_:[10]

'Whilst the Ajax was propelling the cutter in the above alarming manner, the flames reached the shank, painter, and stopper, of her remaining bower anchor, and it fell from her bows, nearly effecting the destruction of the boat at its first plunge into the water. The cable caught her outer gunwale, over which it ran, apparently one sheet of fire; orders, exertion, and presence of mind were now of no avail. Death to all in the cutter appeared inevitable. The sole alternative was either to be burned or drowned, for they were all too much exhausted to be able to save themselves by swimming.

'The boats at a distance saw that the cutter was enveloped in flames, and therefore considered it impossible to assist her. All that Lieutenant Willoughby and his companions could do while the cable was running out and binding their boat more firmly to the ship, was to keep the sparks and flames as much as possible from the uncovered parts of their persons. Providentially, however, although the inner portion of the cable had been burnt through, the anchor took the ground, and gave the ship's head a check to windward, before the less consumed part had entirely left the tier; and thus the very event which had seemed to seal the doom of the cutter was in all respects ordained by the Almighty for her preservation. The change in the ship's position enabled the boat to get clear, but not before every individual in her was more or less severely scorched, and the heat was no longer endurable.'

The wreck drifted on shore on the north side of the island of Tenedos, where, at five o'clock in the morning, she blew up with an explosion which might be felt on the adjacent shores of Europe and of Asia; and all that remained of the Ajax were a few smoking spars, which rose to the surface of the sea.

Such was the fate of this noble ship, destroyed by a conflagration more rapid than had ever been known, and of which the cause has never been clearly ascertained. It appears, however, certain that, contrary to orders, there had been a light in the bread-room; for when the first lieutenant broke open the door of the surgeon's cabin, the after bulk-head was already burnt down; and as the purser's steward, his assistant, and the cooper, were among the missing, it is but reasonable to suppose that the fire had been occasioned by their negligence.

'I trust,' says Captain Blackwood, in his defence before the court of inquiry, 'that I shall be able to prove to the satisfaction of this court, that I had instituted a regulation, which obliged the first lieutenant, the warrant officers, and master at arms, in a body to visit all the quarters, store-rooms, wings, &c, and report to me at eight o'clock on their clearness and safety; and that I had also received at nine o'clock the report of the marine officer of the guard.' ... 'I trust this court will consider that in ordering the first lieutenant and warrant officers to visit all parts of the ship, whose report, as well as that of the master at arms, I had received at a few minutes past eight o'clock, I had very fully provided for every want, and might with perfect confidence have considered my ship in a state of perfect safety with respect to fire.'

Captain Blackwood, his surviving officers and men, were all most honourably acquitted of any blame respecting the loss of the Ajax.

Out of six hundred men, three hundred and fifty were saved by the boats of the squadron; but two hundred and fifty perished that night by fire or water.

Amongst the lost were Lieutenants Reeve and Sibthorpe; Captain Boyd, Royal Marines; Mr. Owen, surgeon; Mr. Donaldson, master; twenty-five midshipmen; two merchants of Constantinople, and a Greek pilot.

The melancholy fate of the gunner must not be passed over unnoticed.

This poor man had two sons on board, whom he was bringing up to his own profession.

When the first alarm of fire was given, he had rushed below, and was soon seen emerging from the smoke with one of the boys in his arms.

He threw the lad into the sea and the jolly-boat picked him up; but on going down for the other, the unfortunate father fell a victim to his paternal affection, and either perished in the flames, or was suffocated.

Of three women who were on board, one saved herself by following her husband down a rope from the jib-boom, and was received into a boat.

Captain Blackwood served as a volunteer in the subsequent operations of the squadron in forcing the passage of the Dardanelles, and his services then were most highly spoken of in a letter from Sir J. Duckworth to Lord Collingwood. He had distinguished himself on many previous occasions. He was in the memorable action of 1st of June, 1794; and he commanded the Euryalus at the battle of Trafalgar.

When Sir Henry Blackwood bade farewell to Nelson, on leaving the Victory to repair on board his own ship, before the commencement of the action, Lord Nelson said, with prophetic meaning, 'God bless you, Blackwood; I shall never see you again.'

In 1810, he commanded the inshore squadron off Toulon, and for his gallant conduct on that station he received the thanks of the commander-in-chief, Sir Charles Cotton.

In 1814, Captain Blackwood was advanced to the rank of rear-admiral, and in 1819 he was appointed commander-in-chief in the East Indies.

He died a vice-admiral in 1832, and his name is enrolled among the first class of naval heroes who have fought under the British flag.

The memory of Blackwood is still held in veneration by the old weather-beaten tars of the Nelsonian school.

Lieutenant Willoughby, whom we have seen displaying so much gallantry in his efforts to save the crew of the Ajax, entered the service in the year 1790.

Before big promotion to the rank of lieutenant, in the year 1798, he distinguished himself on more than one occasion by that promptitude of action for which his after career was so remarkable.

In 1801, he served on board the Russel, at the battle of Copenhagen. The gallant manner in which he boarded the Provestein block ship, excited so much admiration, that the Russel's crew gave him three cheers upon his return to the ship. We next find this young officer performing a most important service when the French forces capitulated at Cape François, St. Domingo, in 1803.

He was at this period serving on board the Hercule, flag-ship to Sir John Duckworth. According to the terms agreed upon, the French men-of-war were to keep their colours hoisted until they got outside of the harbour, when they were each to discharge a broadside in return to a shot fired athwart their bows, by one of the British ships, and then to make the usual signals of submission.

The Clorinde frigate, in going out of the harbour, grounded under Fort St. Joseph, at the moment when the launch of the Hercule, commanded by Mr. Willoughby, was entering the harbour. When Mr. Willoughby saw the critical position of the Clorinde, and the danger which menaced all on board of her (for he knew that even if they succeeded in gaining the shore, which was doubtful, no quarter would be given them by the blacks), he pulled towards the frigate, and when he came alongside, he proposed terms to General La Poyne (who was on board of her) by which the safety of the crew would be secured.

Mr. Willoughby promised, that if the frigate would hoist English colours, he (Mr. Willoughby) would wait upon General Dessalines, and demand that the British flag should be respected; and in the event of the Clorinde going to pieces during the night, the crew and passengers should be considered prisoners of war.

General La Poyne readily accepted the proposed terms, and accordingly, Mr. Willoughby proceeded to negotiate with General Dessalines, who promised compliance with his request.

The boats of the Hercule were sent to the assistance of the Clorinde, and they succeeded in heaving her off.

Thus by the timely exertions of this zealous young officer, some hundreds of lives were saved, and the British navy obtained a frigate which, for many years, was one of the finest of the 38-gun class.

At the attack on Curaçoa, in 1804, Mr. James relates, that for the sake of encouraging his men, Mr. Willoughby used to take his meals sitting in a chair upon the breast-work of a battery, while the earth was ploughed up all around; and one man, we believe, was killed on the spot; but still the table and chair, and the daring officer who sat there, remained untouched.

In the following year, the Hercule had captured a merchant schooner, and one of the prisoners gave notice that a Spanish corvette of twenty guns, was lying in St. Martha, South America. Mr. Willoughby thereupon volunteered to attack her; and on the 4th of July, he took the command of the prize, and parted company with his ship, accompanied by three midshipmen and thirty volunteers. On the 6th, they entered the harbour of St. Martha; Captain Samuel Roberts, then a midshipman, was at the helm, with a check shirt on, his head covered with a French kerchief, and his face blackened. The rest of the men were below, except a black, and a mulatto.

The schooner being well known, the deception was perfectly successful, and she passed the batteries without interruption; but, to the disappointment of all on board, no corvette was to be found.

Mortified in the extreme, they put about, but not in time to escape detection. The enemy had found out the trick that had been played upon them; and the batteries from the island and harbour opened upon the schooner a volley of no very gentle reproaches. However, she luckily avoided the danger, and returned in safety to the Hercule, without receiving a single shot.