Chapter Nine.
The English and French fleets lay in Sole Bay, a brave sight, with flags flying and trumpets sounding from the different ships. Just as day broke on the 28th of May, numerous sail were seen dotting the horizon. On they came. There was no doubt that they were the ships of the Dutch fleet. The Duke of York threw out the signal for action; and the ships setting sail, some of them cutting their cables in their eagerness, stood out of the bay. The French, who were on the outside, were nearest to the Dutch. From the deck of the Royal James, no less than seventy-five large ships were discovered, and forty frigates. The fleet was commanded, as was well known, by the brave Admirals de Ruyter, Banquert, and Van Ghent. The French were first attacked by Admiral Banquert. And now the guns on both sides sent forth their missiles of death,—round shot and chain shot, the latter cutting to pieces the rigging and spars of their antagonists.
“See, Wenlock, those Frenchmen fight well,” exclaimed Christison. “We must acquit ourselves in a like gallant way.” This was said as the Royal James was standing into action, approaching a large Dutch ship called the Great Holland. “But see! what are they about? They are beating a retreat. Two or three of their ships remain in the enemy’s hands. They have no stomach for the fight, that is clear; or, from what I hear, they are playing the game they have long done. It is the old story. They wish the Dutch and us to tear ourselves to pieces, and then they will come in and pick up the fragments.”
Meantime, the Duke of York in the Saint Michael was engaged with Admiral de Ruyter, his ship being so severely handled that he had to leave her, and hoist his flag on board the Loyal London.
“Ah! we have enemies enough coming down upon us,” exclaimed Christison, as the Royal James, at the head of the blue squadron, became almost surrounded by Dutch ships. The Great Holland was the first to lay her alongside, the Dutchmen, however, in vain endeavouring to board. Admiral Van Ghent next attacked her with a squadron of fire-ships. The brave Earl of Sandwich encouraged his men to resist, in spite of the numerous foes round him. Again and again the Dutchmen from the deck of the Great Holland attempted to carry the Royal James. Each time they were beaten back. Sometimes the earl put himself at the head of his men; at others Christison and his son repelling the boarders. All this time the other Dutch ships kept up a terrific fire on the Royal James. More than once the earl turned his eyes towards the remainder of the English fleet, but none of the ships seemed prepared to come to his assistance. The Englishmen were falling thickly; already many hundreds strewed the deck.
“When a man’s destruction has been resolved on, it is easy to bring it about,” observed the earl to his captain, Sir Richard Haddock, who stood by his side. “However, neither friends nor foes shall say that Edward Montagu failed in his duty to his country, or ceased to fight till the last.” Saying this, he again cheered his men. Never did a crew fight with more fierce desperation than did that of the Royal James. Even the wounded refused to quit their guns, till they dropped at their quarters. A cheer at length arose from their decks. The Great Holland had been beaten off, and was retiring in a disabled state. De Ruyter, his person conspicuous on the deck of his ship, still assailed her however. At length a shot was seen to strike him, and he sank, apparently slain, to the deck.
For a short time the hard-pressed ship of the gallant admiral enjoyed a respite; but by this time she was reduced almost to a wreck, while six hundred of her brave crew lay dead or dying about her decks, with many of her officers, and several gallant gentlemen who had volunteered on board. Night was coming on, the constant flashes from the guns, however, showing the fury with which the fight was continued. Still the earl refused to retire from the combat. Christison and his son had hitherto escaped. “I have seen many fierce battles, Wenlock, but never one like this,” said the old officer; “and our fighting is not over to-day. See here come more foes!” As he spoke, several ships were seen bearing down upon the Royal James, and now, opening their fire, they surrounded her with smoke. The four hundred survivors of her crew fought their guns with the same desperation as at first; but in the midst of the smoke a ship, approaching unperceived, grappled closely with her. Directly afterwards there was a cry of fire!
Flames were seen bursting forth from the enemy, now, when too late, known to be a fire-ship. In vain the crew endeavoured to free themselves from her, but the Dutch sent such showers of shot among them that many were killed in the attempt. Wenlock had been keeping near his father, who, for the first time since the commencement of the fight, acknowledged that they were in desperate circumstances. Scarcely had he spoken, when Wenlock heard a sharp cry by his side, and turning round, he saw his father falling to the deck. He lifted him up; but as he gazed in his countenance, he saw that those eyes which had always looked at him with affection were glazing in death.