The Loss of the Royal George

by William Henry Giles Kingston

The day after I got home I received the long-looked-for letter from Jerry; but there was not much in it which I could make out, except that he had come to an anchor near his old home, and had half-resolved not to go wandering any more. He had made himself known to his sister, who was trying to persuade him to remain quiet. He was very mysterious about the affair I had at heart. He still insisted that he was on the right track; but as he might spoil all if it was discovered what he was about until the right time came, it would be wiser not to mention names, in case anybody should get hold of his letter.

“The youngster has friends,” he added, “and is doing very well, and can wait without damage for a few years. There is another person also for whose sake, even more than for his, I should like to have the mystery cleared up, but the risk is too great to make the attempt. We must, therefore, as I have said, let both wait till the proper opportunity, and that is in the hands of One who orders all things for the best.”

I should say that Jerry wrote in a very different way to that in which he spoke, and it seemed to me that when he got a pen in his hand he was no longer the rough sailor, but the educated man he had once been before he got into bad ways and ran off to sea. He signed his letter “JD,” and told me to send my answer to the post-office, but on no account to direct my letter by the name I knew him by. I of course did as he desired, thanking him heartily for what he had already done, and expressing a hope that he would not neglect the interests of one whom my wife and I loved so much.

I have not time to describe one-tenth part of the events in young Harry’s career.

After serving in the Nymph some time longer, I was transferred to the Juno frigate; and Captain Leslie succeeded in getting the two youngsters appointed to her. I had belonged to her when she was first in commission in the West Indies, commanded by Captain Hood. A braver man never stepped. I remember an incident which will show his character. We were lying at Saint Anne’s Harbour, Jamaica, a heavy gale of wind blowing, when the look-out from the masthead discovered far out at sea a raft; tossing about on the foaming waves, which threatened every moment to wash off three men who were seen clinging to it. The captain at once ordered a boat to put off to their assistance, but the sea was so heavy that the boat’s crew held back, thinking that they should lose their own lives if they made the attempt.

“I never order men to undertake what I dare not do myself,” exclaimed Captain Hood, springing into the boat.

Away he pulled amid the foam-crested, tumbling seas. Every moment we thought that the boat and all on board would be lost; but he at last succeeded in reaching the raft, and taking the three poor men off it just as they were exhausted, and would have in another minute been washed away.

Such a man I was heartily glad to serve under again. We sailed immediately for the Mediterranean, where we joined Lord Hood’s fleet lying in the harbour of Toulon. The French Royalists had given up the city to the English and Spaniards, who were at that time our allies, and their troops assisted to man the fortifications. A Republican army, however, invested the place, and a good deal of fighting had been going on. The English had, however, not quite two thousand men on shore, and, though they could trust the French Royalists, the Spaniards, Neapolitans, and other troops could not be relied on. Serving in the Republican army was Napoleon Buonaparte, then an officer of artillery; not that I knew of it at the time, but I afterwards heard that he had been there when he became Emperor of the French.

The French had one night surprised a detachment of Spanish troops posted on an important height above Toulon, and thereby got possession of it. No time was to be lost in driving them out, and the marines and a party of bluejackets from the ships close at hand were ordered on shore to assist the Spaniards in storming the heights and turning out the Republicans. The seamen, twenty of whom went from our ship, were headed by Lieutenant Seagrave: I went to assist in the landing. We had shoved off, when I found that Reginald Leslie and Harry had jumped into the boat. Reginald said that he was resolved to see the fun. Harry told me that he had been ordered to take charge of the men instead of a master’s mate, who was unable to go, so he was all right; but Reginald had no business to be where he was, and had there been time I should have sent him on board again. It was dark by the time we had reached the shore; the troops and bluejackets, mustering eight hundred, formed as they landed, and were immediately ordered to push forward. I had intended, as in duty bound, to keep Reginald Leslie in the boat, but he leapt on shore among the first, and I was too busy to see what became of him. The hills which rose above our heads were steep and rugged, notwithstanding which, soldiers and bluejackets pushed up them by a long and narrow path, with a rugged precipice on one side. At any moment they might arouse the enemy, who would soon have stopped their progress.

I knew it would take a couple of hours or more, from the distance they had to go, before the party could be back. I waited anxiously, thinking more perhaps of Harry and his messmate than of the success of the expedition, about which I had little doubt. The time seemed very long. At last, hearing the sound of firing from among the hills, I knew that the batteries were being attacked. The firing then ceased, the sound of only an occasional shot reaching my ears. I now waited more anxiously than before for the return of the party. Suddenly the sound of great guns and musketry came down from over the hills, and I began to fear that our party were being again attacked by a superior force. I had posted a couple of lookouts on the neighbouring heights which commanded the path, to give notice of the approach of either friends or foes. One of them came running down, crying out—