unable to recover his equilibrium. He stumbled,
and fell with one knee against me; to save himself
from falling headlong on to the deck, he caught at
at the woodwork from which I was slung. His
cowardly opponent, heedless of the fact that he was
disarmed, and forgetful of the quarter he himself
only a few minutes before had extended to him,
raised his weapon to cleave the head of the youth,
who, wholly unsuspicious of such a cowardly advan-
tage being taken of him, was leisurely raising himself
up, and stretching forth his hand to pick up his sword.
I could see a smile on the honest, handsome face of
the boy I had known so many years, whom I had
learnt to admire, and in whose career I had so long
taken a hearty interest. I could see all this, and I
could see (but he could not) his burly and merciless foe
lift his sword for the foul blow, that in another moment
would have laid that young head low, and deluge
in a torrent of blood the fair curling locks. All this
I could see, and I sickened at the sight of the immi-
nence of the stroke I was helpless to avert.



CHAPTER VII.

AT this terrible and, to me, agonizing crisis, a
figure, which for the last few minutes had, unre-
garded by principals and seconds, watched the course
of the combat, sprang forward, and knocked up
Henderson's arm with a tremendous blow that
almost paralyzed that member, and, indeed, would
have well-nigh shattered it had it appertained to a
less robust personage than that burly warrior.

" Who the foul fiend are you ?" ejaculated
Henderson, turning upon this new comer with a
fierce wrath; "and how dare you interfere, you
infernal scoundrel ?" he added, seeing it was only
a seaman, being, indeed, none other than William
Morris, or Cavendish. "Go below, and I'll not
forget you."

"I was bound to interfere," the latter replied,
" when I saw you about to take a cowardly advan-
tage of Mr. Duckworth."

" Cowardly, do you dare to say, you blackguard ?"



The Autobiography of a Man-o' -War's Bell. 153

broke in Henderson, white with passion. " Fll re-
member you for this."

Morris took no notice of this ebullition, but,
turning to the seconds, said, with the air and manner
of a polished man of the world, " Excuse me, gen-
tlemen, I regret extremely that I interfered with you
in the execution of your duties as seconds, but
1 saw that murder, and not justifiable homicide,
would have been the inevitable result. I have been

myself " But he stopped, and added, " I like,

as does every Englishman, to see fair play."

The seconds, colouring with vexation, stepped
forward and thanked him ; Duckworth's friend
adding that he did not anticipate that Henderson
would have taken such an unmanly advantage of his
friend, and was not therefore prompt enough in
warding off what he now saw would have been a
foul blow.

The two principals once more stood facing each
other. Henderson had regained his weapon, and
looked more malignant than ever at thus having
been twice baffled in taking the life of his enemy ;
while the latter, on whose mind began to dawn a
faint perception of the narrow escape he had just
had, looked from one to the other for an explanation
of this interruption. His second, Stanley, a good



154 The Autobiography of a Man-o' -War's Bell.

and brave officer, and very much attached to Duck-
worth, but who was as unprepared for such treachery
as his principal, did not care to enlighten him, as it
would reflect upon the careless way in which he had
discharged his duties, though he inwardly promised
to take care that there should not be a repetition of
the act. No such compunction worked in the mind
of Morris, who stepped up to the young officer
whose life he had saved, and whispered in his ear,
" For God's sake, take care, sir; that murdering
ruffian wants your heart's blood, and will have
nothing less."

James Duckworth started, looked hard at the
sailor, and replied slowly, as if weighing every
word,, "Will he? Then, by the living God, I
will have his !"

Again the duel was renewed ; and this time it
was patent to all lookers-on that the end was not
far off. Henderson was beside himself in his fury,
and even Duckworth, hitherto so calm, was roused;
his blood was up, and it portended a " short shrift ''
for one of them, when the latter met his antagonist's
furious onslaught, not with his ordinar^passiveness,
but with an -eagerness which showed that he was
only waiting his first opportunity to end that scene
of treachery and blood ; and it soon came. More



The Autobiography of a Man-o- War's Bell. 155

impetuous than ever, Henderson gave repeated
chances, until a blow he aimed at his adversary
having been evaded rather than parried for the
young midshipman 'merely sprung on one side
his whole body was left defenceless. His sword,
missing its object, had struck the narrator with the
full force of a blow that would have cleft the skull
of any living man, even had he the pate of a negro,
causing an indent, and making my metal emit a
sharp sound. It was his own funeral knell that he
thus unconsciously rang with his weapon. Before
he could recover himself, young James Duckworth
moved lightly, but swiftly, up again towards him,
and drawing his sword arm back until his hand
touched his shoulder, delivered the point, and drove
the weapon with resistless force through the body of
his opponent. The latter stood still for a moment ;
a shudder swept through his frame as the cold steel
was drawn reeking from his body, and with a single
groan he fell dead at the feet of his victorious,
adversary. The thick, dark gore rushed in a
hot flood from the breast of the dead man, who
had been run through the heart the sword's
point having been only checked from passing out
at the back by the shoulder-blade, against which
the extreme point of the weapon had broken off,



156 The Autobiography of a Man-o'-Wars Bell.

with such force had the fatal thrust been de-
livered.

It was all over now. To the fury and fell pas-
sions that animated the combatants, and the fever
of anxiety that filled the breasts of the lookers-on,
succeeded the awe inspired by the presence of death,
and the chilling thought of what was in store on the
morrow for them all, principal and seconds, for the
latter would be regarded as abettors, and called to
account for thus breaking through the bonds of dis-
cipline, and turning the deck of His Majesty's ship
into an arena for the adjustment of a private quarrel.
They were now joined by some of their messmates;
one or two bent over the dead officer out of whose
body the blood still poured, gathering into a pool at
the break of the forecastle, and thence trickling,
drop by drop, on to the deck beneath, with a chill,
heavy splash, that sounded loud and measured in
the stillness that reigned around and heedless of
the futility of what they were doing, sought to
staunch the flow of the life stream, as if they could
thereby bring the soul back into the tenement out
of which it had been reft with violence scarce one
minure before. These officers had been accustomed
to death in all its most horrid forms, and though in
its consequences this business might cost them their



The Autobiography of a Man-o' -War's Bell. 157

commissions, and close the naval career for ever to
them, yet they were not the sort of men to waste
time in vain lamentations, but rousing up the first
lieutenant and surgeon, informed the one of all that
had taken place, and brought the latter to the body
of the late senior mate.

Duckworth retained his composure throughout
the subsequent trying scene. He went aft, yielded
up his sword to Lieutenant Higham, and was placed
under arrest. The captain was informed in the
morning of what had occurred, and sending for the
unfortunate young officer on to the quarter deck,
upbraided him for the gross breach of discipline in
fighting a duel on board his ship, accused him of
ingratitude, and ended by the announcement that he
would be tried for his life on the arrival of the ship
at Plymouth.

James Duckworth said not a word until charged
with ingratitude, when his face flushed up, and he
was about to speak, but was stopped by Captain
Gaisford, who thundered out, " Silence, sir; go
below, under close arrest."

The first lieutenant lost no time in learning all
the particulars of the quarrel, and when the captain
had calmed down a little towards the evening, sought
him out, and laid before him the gross provocation



158 The Autobiography of a Man-o-Wars Bell.



his favourite had received, and the cowardly conduct
of his aggressor, whom he maintained had been
properly served. Captain Gaisford was somewhat
mollified on hearing all that his executive officer had
said to him ; but he replied that he cared nothing
for the fate of Henderson, who was a brute and a
bad officer, and he would not forgive the breach of
discipline ; but he said the martial law that governed
the Navy must take its course, and he could not
depart from his word.

Now-a-days, the articles of war are very severe,
and award death as a punishment for what are con-
sidered very trivial offences ; but in the times of
which we write, it may be said with truth that the
code was written in characters of blood. Death,
therefore, would certainly be the sentence that would
be meted out to Duckworth by any court-martial that
sat to hear the charges preferred against him ; and,
notwithstanding every plea put forward in his de-
fence by Lieut. Jacob Higham, the captain remained
inflexible, and persisted that justice must be carried
out. So matters stood.

Sailors are notorious for their love of story-
telling or " spinning yarns /' and in those days of
wars, I have heard many most thrilling accounts of



The Autobiography of a Man-o -War's Bell. 159



adventures in the battle and the breeze; of cutting-
out affairs, and other desperate deeds in which the
narrators no boasters, as the scars they bore testi-
fied had taken prominent parts; of lengthened
confinement in French prisons, with hard fare and
harder treatment; of adventures in uninhabited
islands on which they had been shipwrecked ; and
of numberless hair-breadth escapes in " battle, fire,
and wreck." It was during the pleasant evenings,
while running for " the line " with the " south-east
trades," that a knot of old salts and youngsters
would assemble in a favourite spot close to me;
here sitting on the break of the forecastle, with
their legs dangling over the deck or seated on the
rail, but always with pipes in their mouths, the
" watch below would listen by the hour to some-
yarn, " tough" as the "old horse" they had for
dinner that day, while the younger hands of the
watch on duty, when not engaged, would swallow
with equal eagerness the stories of "antres vast and
deserts idle." This the latter were enabled to
do almost without interruption during those jolly
tropical evenings, for the south-east trade, when once
you get fairly into it, will carry you nearly from the
latitude of the Cape to within a few degrees of the
line, without you having to "touch a rope-yarn."



160 The Autobiography of a Man-o' -War's Bell.



After all the stormy weather we had experienced, and
the hard actions we had been engaged in, it was a
great relief even to the most fire-eating tar on board,
to have for a brief space neither Frenchmen to fight
nor " stormy winds to blow " and harass them night
as well as day in trimming sails, reefing topsails,
sending masts and yards down, and securing the
guns. Among stories that impressed themselves
on my memory, was one told by the master-at-
arms.*

The sea is full of mysteries and unrevealed
secrets ; but no man can have followed a sailor's life
for many years without encountering incidents that
appeared inexplicable. Often have we passed, and
perhaps picked up, floating on the wide expanse of
sea, articles, valueless in themselves, but once
cherished by warm hearts. These waifs of the
sea were, doubtless, relics of human passions, and
links in a chain of human interest now snapped for
ever, and have never been traced ; though, perhaps,

* The title of this petty officer is a relic of the old days
when there was no regular navy, but merchant ships were
hired, fitted with guns, and manned by the king's soldiers,
the ship being worked by her own crew, under their master.
It was only in Henry the Eighth's reign that the first regular
man-o'-war was built and retained in the service of the
country for fighting purposes only.



The A utobwgraphy of a Man-d- Wars Bell. 1 6 1

some heart mourned long and faithfully the owner
who never more returned.

The master-at-arms' tale partakes of this charac-
ter of mystery, and has the merit of truth still
further to recommend it :

" We had been knocking about the Indian seas
for some weeks seeking to make Trincomalee, for
soon after leaving Madras Roads, a heavy westerly
gale drove us far out of our course, and for days we
were unable to take observations, owing to the sun
being obscured. I was then serving on board a
brig-of-war, an old tub that had long seen her day,
and ought by rights to have been in the ship-
breaker's yard, instead of knocking about the high
seas. However, we managed to weather the gale,
and tried to patch the brig up and refit aloft, for the
state of the barometer showed only too plainly that
we had in all likelihood not seen the last of the bad
weather. That evening we sighted something that
looked like the hull of a vessel floating about. On
nearing her we found that all her masts and the
bowsprit had gone by the board. We hailed her, but
got no answer; but to make sure that none of her
crew were still on board, the captain lowered a boat,
and as I was one of the crew holding the rating of
ordinary seaman in the books of the ' Thalia' I



1 62 The Autobiography of a Man-d -War's Bell.

proceeded in the boat. The lieutenant commanding
the cutter hailed the derelict as we approached her,
but received no answer. In another minute we were
alongside, and swinging ourselves on board the best
way we could, with the aid of a rope's end or two
hanging over the ship's side, half a dozen of us were
soon standing on the decks of the silent ship. The
cause of this quiet soon became apparent. A more
dismal scene than that presented on board that
vessel I have never seen during my forty-four years'
service afloat. Splintered spars entangled in canvas
and rigging were scattered around in confusion ;
the decks were lumbered up with the debris of gear,
while the planks and fittings of a boat probably
the launch, which had been stowed amidships were
lying about. The wind and the waves had worked
sad havoc ; but more terrible than the destruction of
a once noble ship were the scenes which further in-
vestigation brought to light. Below a heap of
rigging, and broken by the weight of a spar which
lay across it, were the bones of a human being. It
was an entire skeleton, the skull and ribs of which
had been crushed almost on a level with the deck.

"Further search revealed a more hideous
spectacle : five other skeletons were discovered ;
and on four of these there yet remained a slight



The Autobiography of a Man-o 1 - War's Bell. 163

covering of crisp flesh, showing that they had died
more recently than the other two. Many pots and
cooking vessels were found on board, but not one of
them contained the least particle of food. This cir-
cumstance seemed to denote that these wretched
men had all died by the most agonizing and linger-
ing of human deaths, and proportionately excited
our pity.

"The vessel, which bore no name over the taff-
rail, as merchant ships do, had been brig-rigged, but
all her spars were gone. The foremast had been cut
away to save her from foundering a step only taken
as a last resort ; the mainmast had gone by the board,
and the bowsprit close by the ' gammoning.'
Altogether the ship was as complete a wreck as ever
floated on the waters, and so she was pronounced by
the most experienced among us.

"We now continued our researches. A most
overpowering stench assailed us as we prepared to
enter the forecastle, which was filled with water; it
was only with some difficulty that two of us, I being
one, consented to enter, and remain long enough
inside to report on its contents. There were two
corpses on the floor, and one stretched across a
1 bunk/ partially covered with bed clothes all three
bodies being in the most digusting stage of decom-



164 The Autobiography of a Man-tf -War's Bell.

position. Proceeding aft, we found the wheel-house
had been carried away, no doubt by a tremendous
sea which had swept the decks ; and looking over the
taffrail, the rudder was seen to be no longer in its
place. The brig was flush, having no poop, but we
proceeded down the companion leading into the
cabin, for the purpose of continuing our investiga-
tions below. At the bottom of the companion was
a pool of fetid water, through which we had to wade
in order to search every portion of the interior. On
passing into the cabin, a foul odour was discovered,
but not so bad as assailed us while investigating the
secrets of the forecastle, and we were all able to
enter. The following was the scene that met our
gaze :

" Between a stationary table and a couch, the
head of a corpse protruded from a sleeping-berth in
the bulkhead, in a state of decay, and presenting the
most ghastly spectacle. A buttoned jacket of good
material, blue serge pantaloons, a flannel shirt,
marked J. F., and one boot, formed the clothing of
the corpse, which lay outside the bed. The chrono-
meter in the cabin pointed to half-past four o'clock,
and on the table was an open Bible turned down-
ward, a pair of loaded pistols in a case, as if placed
ready for use, and a small bottle. On taking it up,



The Autobiography of a Man-o-Wars Bell. 165

we found that it contained a piece of paper, on which
was scrawled in scarely legible characters, ' Lord,
guide us to some helper ! Merciful God ! why let us
perish ?' The words, irrespective of their meaning,
expressed in the most pathetic manner the extremity
of human suffering and earnest supplication; they
were written in a detached form, and a hiatus
occurred between every two or three words, evidently
showing that the ill-fated writer must have been
either in the lowest stage of debility, or driven to
madness by hunger. Proceeding into the cabin
beyond, evidently that of the captain, we came upon
his corpse. There it lay on the floor, mouldering
and doubled up as if he had fallen from weakness,
and died where he fell. This completed the ghastly
remains of the gallant men once forming the crew of
the nameless derelict now floating unheeded on the
troubled waters of that distant eastern sea.

" On making search we soon found some
articles, by which we hoped to trace the identity of
the brig and her late crew. On the captain's bed
were scattered books and papers, but one sheet
attracted particular notice. It was dated ' At sea,
14th January, 1731,' and ran as follows: 'Dear
Emma I will post this letter on arriving at Madras,
to assure you of my well-being, and that though so



1 66 The Autobiography of a Man-o -War's Bell.

many years have elapsed since we parted in Old
England, that my affection for you remains un-
dimmed, indeed, is perhaps increased by time and
absence. I have got on famously, and have at
length reached the summit of my ambition. I am
my own master, and the master, too, of a fine brig,
which though old and rather cranky for these seas,
will, I daresay, last my time and enable me to make
enough money in three voyages to return to England,
when I hope we shall never part again. Your father
will not turn me away from his door when I show
him a bag of 2000, which 1 hope to clear before I
return home. I have kept all my promises to you in
spite of a thousand temptations, and many bad,
drinking shipmates. Your picture and letters I keep
always beside me ; scarcely a day passes but I look
at them and read a letter. Direct to Mr. Haver's at
Madras, as before, when^you can find opportunity to
write a few lines. Good-bye, and God bless you.
Yours for ever and ever. JAMES H. HOLLAND/

" There was no address on the letter; the ship's
regular papers were not found, but there was a
writing-desk, which, as it was locked, the lieutenant
in charge of the boat took with him unopened on
board the brio-. There was a slate on the table in

D

the cabin, which was, no doubt, used for taking



The Autobiography of a Man-o '-Wars Bell. 167

down the log in rough, but we could decipher only
blurred figures, the writing being totally illegible.
The table was covered by guards, such as are used in
rough weather to prevent the dishes and plates from
being carried away, and which are known at sea as
' fiddles.' In the captain's trunk, which was un-
locked, were found numerous letters, but they and
everything portable that was of any value or interest,
were removed into the boat for the purpose of being
taken on board the brig. Having hailed the latter,
which lay-to close by, the lieutenant received permis-
sion to perform the last sad offices for the remains
of our unfortunate countrymen,

" The boat was sent on board the ' Thalia/ and
returned with the sail-maker and his tools, a prayer-
book, and some other necessaries ; and as night was
closing in, and the weather looked threatening, we
quickly made the necessary preparations for a
' funeral at sea/ A quantity of old canvas lying
about the decks was cut up and sewn into bags,
which formed coffins for the dead. A long board
was laid upon a sound portion of the bulwarks, and
round shot were attached to the bags ; the service for
the Burial of the Dead at Sea was now reverently
performed by the uncertain light of two lanthorns,
held one on each side of the officer by a sailor for it



168 The Autobiography of a Man-o'-War's Bell.

was now dark ; and as the plank was tilted upward,
one by one the skeletons in their shotted bags fell
with a dull splash into the sea. The ceremony con-
cluded, we all, almost without exchanging a word,
for the sad duty had struck a chill to the hearts ot
the most careless of us, returned to the cutter, and
pulled back to the ' Thalia/

"Although the conduct of all engaged in the
performance of these last melancholy offices to our
fellow-seamen was marked with an unusual degree
of solemnity, little did any of my messmates think
that no friendly hand would ever consign them to
the grave, and no voice repeat over their remains the
consolitory words from Holy Writ, selected by the
Church for this most solemn of all the ceremonies
in which we can take part.

"But the tragic fate that was to overtake the
crew of the ' Thalia ' was even now pursuing them,
and before another night fell, the sea had engulfed
another holocaust of Britain's best and bravest
seamen.

" Hardly had we placed our feet on the deck of
the brig, and the boats were hoisted up, than the
storm which had been brewing, was upon us.
Warned by the distant mutterings of the thunder
and the vivid flashes on the horizon, which por.



The Autobiography of a Man-o'-Wars Bell. 169

tended what is called in those seas a ' Sumatra/
from their usually coming off the island of that
name,, our captain shortened sail, and made all
preparations for the tempest. Everything was
secured below and aloft, and all hands would have
been quite at their ease had we had a sound plank
under our feet. Sailors care not how hard it blows,
if they have plenty of sea-room and a tight ship;
but a lee- shore appals the bravest heart, and a leak
is the most terrible spectre that can haunt the breast
of poor Jack. Unhappily, we all knew that we had
grave cause for anxiety as regarded the condition of
the ' Thalia' on the latter point; but our v/orst fears
were soon more than realized, and we found that
the brig had sustained so much damage in the recent
bad weather, that she was little better than a sieve.

" Before midnight the wind was blowing a strong
gale, and the sea had risen with surprising rapidity.
Early in the gale a sea broke on board abaft, and
carried away the mainsail, which we had set reefed ;
soon another sea tumbled on board at the waist, and
shattered the pinnace, which was secured on the
chocks, carrying away with it, as it receded to
leeward, three hands, who were busy over some job
amidships.

" The brig began to strain heavily, and made



1 70 The A utobiography of a Man-o'- War's Bell.

water fast ; strong gangs were put on to the pumps,
but all their efforts were fruitless, and the water