By Conduct and Courage: A Story of the Days of Nelson

When this had, with some difficulty, been accomplished, and the barrel surrounded the centre of the gun, he said:“Now fill up the barrel with the rest of that rubbish.”

The sailors had now caught the idea, and very soon they had the gun tightly packed into its novel carriage. Two long ropes were then passed round the puncheon, the ends being carried a little way up the hill. This formed a parbuckle, and when the men hauled upon the upper lengths of the ropes the cask easily rolled up to the ends of the lower lengths. This operation was repeated again and again, and gradually the cask moved up the rock. At places it had to be hauled up lengthways, boards being placed underneath it to give it a smooth surface over which to glide instead of the rough rock, and men encouraging it from behind with levers. While they were at work Nelson came up and stood watching them for some minutes without speaking.

“Where did you learn how to do that?” he said to Will at last.

“I heard of it at the siege of St. Pierre, sir.”

“Well, you profited by your lesson. It is a pleasure to see a young fellow use his wits in that way. But for your sharpness I question whether we should ever have got the guns up there. I was looking at it myself yesterday, and I doubted then whether it was at all practicable. You have settled the question for me, and I’ll not forget you. What is your name, sir?”

“Gilmore of the Tartar.”

Nelson made a note of it and walked away.

The work took two days of tremendous labour, the seamen being relieved three times a day. Will was constantly on the spot directing and superintending the operations, and had the satisfaction at last of seeing six guns placed on the summit of the rock.

Next morning the besieged were astonished when the guns opened fire upon them from the rock, for, the path being at the back, they had not seen what was going on. As they could obtain no shelter from this attack, and there was no possibility of silencing the guns, they hastily abandoned the post and retreated on San Fiorenzo. The battery on the rock, however, also commanded the town, which, accordingly, had to be abandoned on the following day, the garrison retiring to the adjoining ridge of ground and to Bastia, which was considered the strongest place in the island.

The capture of San Fiorenzo was the more valuable, inasmuch as in the harbour were two frigates, the Minerve and La Fortunée, both of which became our prizes. The Minerve, thirty- eight guns, was sunk by the French, but was weighed by our men and taken into the service, when she was renamed theSan Fiorenzo.

Nelson was immensely pleased with the manner in which the operation of getting the guns up the rock had been performed, and requested the captain of the Tartar that Will should be permanently stationed on shore to act as his own aide-de-camp, a request which was, of course, complied with.

In the meantime Nelson had reconnoitred Bastia and the neighbouring coast, and recommended that troops and cannon be disembarked, for he was convinced that a land force of about a thousand, in co-operation with a few ships, would be sufficient to reduce the place. Unfortunately the general commanding the troops was one of the most irresolute of men, and when, after a few days, he resigned the command, in consequence of his differences with Lord Hood, his successor, General D’Aubant, was still more incapable. He pronounced at once that, though the force at his command was almost double that which Nelson asked for, it was insufficient for the work required of it. Nelson, burning with indignation, decided that the attempt to take Bastia must be made, and that if the army would not do it the navy must.

Lord Hood agreed with him, but even when it was decided to undertake the siege, D’Aubant insisted on their doing without a single soldier or a single cannon, and, retiring to San Fiorenzo, kept his men inactive while the sailors were performing the work. On the 17th of February, 1794, the fortified town of Mareno, a little to the north of Bastia, was captured, and four days later a reconnaissance was made. Nelson’s ship, the Agamemnon, was supported by the Tartar and the frigate Romulus. As they passed slowly in front of the town thirty guns opened upon them with shot and shell. Nelson lowered his sails, and for an hour and three-quarters peppered the forts so warmly that at last the French garrison deserted their guns. One battery, containing six guns, was totally destroyed. The citizens of Bastia were eager to surrender, but the governor declared that he would blow up the city if such a step were taken. Two days later Nelson was preparing to repeat the blow, but a sudden calm set in, and he could not get near the town. In a short time the opportunity for carrying the place by assault passed away, as the French officers were indefatigable in strengthening their fortifications, and soon rendered the town practically impregnable.

Nelson, however, maintained the blockade in spite of heavy weather, and in the middle of March provisions were so short in the place that a pound of bread was selling for half a crown. Nelson himself was almost as much straitened for provisions, but the admiral contrived to send him a supply.

Nelson pitched a tent on shore and personally superintended all the operations. A considerable body of seamen were landed, and worked like horses, dragging guns up heights that appeared inaccessible, making roads, and cutting down trees with which to build abattis.

CHAPTER XIII

WITH NELSON

One day during the siege Nelson said to Will: “I’ll be glad, Mr. Gilmore, if you will accompany me on an excursion along the shore. I have my eye on a spot from which, if we could get guns up to it, we should be able to command the town. From what I have seen of you I believe you know more about mounting guns than anyone here, so I’ll be glad to have your opinion of the position.”

Will of course expressed his willingness to go, and they at once started in the gig. They rowed on for some time, keeping a sharp look-out for suitable landing-places. At last Nelson bade the men lie on their oars, and pointed to the ridge of which he had spoken.

“Well, what do you say?” he asked, after Will had made a careful examination of it from the boat.

“I am afraid it would not be possible, sir, to carry out your plan. The labour of getting the guns up from the shore would be enormous, and considering the rugged state of the country I question if they could be taken across to the ridge when they were up.”

“No; I agree with you. I did not examine it so closely before; and at any rate, underhanded as we are, we could not spare enough men for the business. We may as well, however, row a bit along the shore. I am convinced that if we could land three or four hundred men within five or six miles of the town, and attack it simultaneously on both sides, we should carry it without much trouble. The French have been fighting well, but they must have been losing heart for some time. A Frenchman hates to be cornered, and as they see our batteries rising they cannot but feel that sooner or later they must give in. I fancy by this time they are asking each other what use it is to keep on being killed when they must surrender in the end.”

They had rowed on for a couple of hours without fixing on a suitable place, when Nelson exclaimed: “We are going to be caught in a fog. That is distinctly unpleasant. Have we a compass in the boat?” he said, turning to the coxswain.

“No, sir. I thought you were only going to row out to the ship, and did not think of bringing one with me.”

“Never forget a compass, my man,” Nelson said, “for though the sky may be blue when you start, a sudden storm may overtake you and blow you far from your ship. However, it can’t be helped now.”

In less than ten minutes the boat was enveloped in a dense fog. The position was decidedly awkward. Had there been any wind they could have steered by the sound of the surf breaking at the foot of the cliffs, but the sea was absolutely calm, and they could hear nothing. They rowed on for some time, and then Nelson said: “Lay in your oars, men, we may be pulling in the wrong direction for all we know. We’ll have to remain here till this fog lifts, even if it takes a week to clear. This is a northerly fog,” he said to Will. “Cold wind comes down from the Alps and condenses when it reaches the sea. These fogs are not very common, but they sometimes last for a considerable time.”

The afternoon passed, and presently night fell. There was no food of any kind in the boat. The men chewed their quids, but the two officers could not indulge in that relief. At night Nelson and Will wrapped themselves in their boat-cloaks and made themselves as comfortable as they could, getting uneasy snatches of sleep. Morning broke and there was no change; a white wall of fog rose all round the boat.

“This is awkward,” Nelson said. “I wish one of the batteries would fire a few guns; that might give us some indication as to our position, though I am by no means sure that in this thick atmosphere the sound would reach so far. I think we were about eleven miles away when the fog caught us.”

In the afternoon a breeze sprang up.

“God grant that it may continue!” Nelson said. “Slight as it is, two or three hours of it might raise a swell, and we might then hear the wash of the waves on the rocks.”

Hour after hour passed, but at last the coxswain said: “I think I hear a faint sound over on the right.”

“I have thought so some little time,” Will said, “but I would not speak until I was sure.”

“Out oars,” Nelson ordered, “and row in that direction.”The sound became more and more distinct as they proceeded, and soon they were satisfied that they were heading for the land. In a quarter of an hour the boat ran up on a sandy beach.

“I have not seen this spot before, it must therefore be farther away from the town than the point we had reached, and as we have been nearly twenty-four hours in the fog the current may have taken us a good many miles. However, we will land. I am parched with thirst, and you must be the same, lads. Leave two men in the boat; the rest of us will go in search of water and bring some down to those left behind when we find it. I think we had better scatter and look for some way up the cliff. If we can find a path we must follow it until we come to some house or other. Where there is a house there must be water. Mr. Gilmore and I will go to the right. If any of you find water, shout; we will do the same. But whether you find water or not, come down to the boat in three hours’ time. Thirsty or not thirsty we must row back to the town this evening. Now, Mr. Gilmore, we will walk along the beach until we come to a path, or at any rate some place where we can climb. I hope, as we get higher, the fog will become less dense.”

For an hour they groped their way along the foot of the cliff, and then, finding a place where it seemed not so steep as elsewhere, began to climb. When they had reached a height of some three or four hundred feet they emerged from the fog into bright sunshine. Below them stretched a white misty lake. On all sides rose hill above hill, for the most part covered to the top by foliage.

“I see some smoke rising from among the trees over there to the right, sir, a mile or a mile and a half away.”

“I will take your word for it, Mr. Gilmore. As you know, my sight is not at all in good condition. Let us be off at once, for the very thought of water makes me thirstier than ever.”

Half an hour’s walking brought them to the hut of a peasant. The owner came to the door as they approached. He was a rough-looking man in a long jacket made of goat-skin, coarse trousers reaching down to the knee, and his legs bound with long strips of wadding. “Who are you,” he asked in his own language, “and how come you here?” As neither of the officers understood one word of the patois of the country they could only make signs that they wanted something to eat and drink. The peasant understood, and beckoned to them to come into the hut. As they entered he gave some instructions to a boy, who went out and presently returned with a jug of water. While the officers were quenching their thirst the boy went out again, and the man brought from a cupboard some black bread and goats’-milk cheese, which he set before them.

“I don’t altogether like that man’s movements, sir. He crawls about as if he were trying to put away as much time as possible. The boy, too, has disappeared.”

“Perhaps he has gone to get some more water,” Nelson suggested.

“He could have gone a dozen times by now, sir. It is possible that he takes us for French officers. A peasant living in such a spot as this, sixteen or twenty miles from a town, might not even know that there are English troops in the country.”

Having satisfied their hunger and thirst, they tried to make the man understand that they were willing to buy all the bread and cheese he had, together with a large jar for carrying water.

The man showed a prodigious amount of stupidity, and although his eyes glistened when Nelson produced gold, he still seemed unable to understand that, having had as much as they could eat, they wanted to buy more. At last Nelson, in a passion, said: “Look here, my man, there is a sovereign, which is worth at least twenty times your miserable store of bread and cheese. If you don’t choose to accept the money you needn’t, but we will take the food whether or no,” and he pointed to his store. As he spoke there was a sound of footsteps outside, and a moment later the door was darkened by the entry of a dozen wild figures, who flung themselves upon the two officers before they had time to make any effort to defend themselves.

In vain Nelson attempted in French and Italian to make himself understood. The men would not listen, but poured out objurgations upon them whenever they attempted to speak. The word Français frequently occurred in their speeches, mixed up with what were evidently expressions of hatred.

“This is awkward, Mr. Gilmore,” Nelson said quietly as they lay bound together in a corner of the hut. “A more unpleasant situation I was never in.”

“I was in one as bad once before. I was captured by a band of negroes in Cuba, and they were preparing to burn me alive when I managed to escape.”

“I should not be at all surprised if that is what these gentlemen are preparing to do now, Gilmore. I am sorry I have brought you into this.”

“It cannot be helped, sir,” Will said cheerfully; “and if they do kill us, my loss to the nation will be as nothing compared with yours. There is no doubt they take us for French officers who have lost their way in the mountains, and they are preparing to punish us for the misdeeds of our supposed countrymen. There are only two things that could help us out of this plight so far as I can see. One is the arrival of a priest; I suppose they have priests hereabouts with a knowledge of French or Italian. The other is the appearance on the scene of our boat’s crew.”

“Both are very unlikely, I am afraid. The crew, you know, all went the other way.”

“Yes, sir; but it is just possible that they may have seen the smoke of this hut also, and be making their way here. Though I looked carefully on all sides I could see no other signs of life.”