The Loss of the Royal George

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“They are coming, sir, they are coming!”

“Our people or the French?” I asked.

“Sure it must be our people, sir,” answered the man, who was Irish but as he seemed somewhat doubtful about the matter, I ordered the men into the boats, to be ready to shove off, should by any chance our party have been cut off. At last I saw a large body of men coming down the hill, and was greatly relieved when I discovered that they were Spaniards, and that our other allies were following close behind. Soon afterwards the English troops came in sight, the bluejackets bringing up the rear. They were at once embarked, and I heard that they had stormed and captured the batteries, and spiked the guns, but had been attacked on their way back by a large body of Republicans, who, however, had been defeated with great loss. I anxiously looked out for the two midshipmen, but could nowhere find them. I made inquiries, and was told that they had been seen with the sailors, unhurt, just before the last attack, but that several men had fallen just as they had received orders to charge the enemy. It was very evident, I feared, that they had either been killed or taken prisoners. Still, as I could not bear the thoughts of leaving them, I obtained permission from the commanding officer to take a party of men and to go in search of them, as, should they have been only wounded, they might not be far off. I had plenty of volunteers, but chose only ten men, with a French Royalist officer who had been aboard our ship and knew the country. There was no time to be lost, so we started at once up the steep path. I felt my heart greatly cast down, for I would have sooner lost my life than have had the brave boys cut off. Still I had some faint hopes of finding them; but should they have been taken prisoners by the Republicans, I had too much reason to fear that they would be shot; for those fellows were terrible savages, and many of their Royalist countrymen who had fallen into their hands had been mercilessly put to death. As we approached the spot where the Republicans had attacked our friends, we carefully examined the ground on either side. Pushing on, we came upon several dead bodies of men who had been shot, two or three of whom were Spaniards, the others Neapolitans; and farther on were a still greater number of Republicans who had been killed in the attack on the troops; still we went on till we got near the batteries, when our guide, though a brave man, refused to go farther, saying that we should probably lose our own lives, as the enemy were likely to be in the neighbourhood, and that it was most probable the midshipmen had been taken prisoners. Very unwillingly, therefore, I agreed to return. We still examined every place on either side of the road into which a person could have crept for concealment, for my idea was that one of the youngsters had been wounded, and that the other had refused to desert him. All this time we had been careful not to speak above a whisper, for fear, should an enemy be in the neighbourhood, of giving notice of our approach. We had got more than half-way down the hill, when, just as we turned a sharp angle of the path, I caught sight, through the gloom, of a figure, some fifty yards ahead of us, moving on, it seemed slowly; the person, whoever he was, must have heard our footsteps, for he appeared to run on, we of course making chase; presently he stopped, and the next instant we lost sight of him. Some of the men fancied that he must have gone over the precipice. We were quickly up to the spot, and were speaking pretty loudly about what had become of the man, when I heard a voice crying out my name, and, turning round, there in a hole of the rock I discovered Harry supporting Reginald in his arms.

“Thank Heaven!” he exclaimed; “I thought you were Republicans, and that we should have been taken off by them.”

All hands were very glad to find the young gentlemen, but we lost no time in talking. It had been just as I had supposed; Reginald had been wounded, and falling by the edge of a bank had rolled down it, and Harry, who had been at his side at the time, followed him. Just then the Republicans who had been coming up had charged our men, and, in the darkness, the lads being unable to tell which party had gained the victory, they had been afraid to climb up the bank till all was again silent. By this time Reginald’s wound prevented him from walking, and Harry had had great difficulty in getting him up the bank; he then had taken him on his shoulders, intending to carry him down the hill, but when he had got some way Reginald fainted from pain and loss of blood. On this he had carried him to a copse on the hillside, some little way off; here he had put him down, and had done his best to bind up his wound, intending to go on again as soon as Reginald was somewhat recovered. He had heard us hunting about, but thinking that we might be enemies he had kept silent, though it was a wonder that no one had discovered the youngsters. After we had passed by, Reginald having come to, Harry had taken him on his back, and was proceeding down the hill when he overtook them as I have mentioned. We, of course, lifted up Reginald, and hurried as fast as we could down to the boat.

Harry, as he deserved, gained great credit for the way he had behaved, for he had undoubtedly saved Reginald’s life; and, in consideration of his wound, the captain forgave Reginald for having left the ship without leave.

I never had a fancy for fighting on shore, and I was not sorry when we were ordered to Malta, to bring away a party of Maltese marines, engaged to serve on board the fleet.

We had light and unfavourable winds going, and, on returning with the soldiers aboard, we met with a succession of strong contrary gales from the eastward, and a lee current, which prevented us from arriving abreast of the harbour’s mouth till about ten o’clock at night on the 11th of January. The captain, not wishing to run the risk of being thrown to leeward, considering the number of men we had on board, determined to sail into the harbour at once. We had no pilot, but the master felt confident that he could take the ship in without risk. The hands were at their stations, and the captain ordered Harry and another midshipman to go forward with night-glasses and look out for the fleet. We had a moderate leading wind, which sent us under our topsails at a fair rate through the water. As we neared the outer roads of Toulon we were somewhat surprised at not seeing any of the fleet, but the captain concluded that the ships had run for shelter into the inner harbour.

The night, was clear, the moon was shining brightly, and the water smooth. As we advanced we made out a brig ahead, and beyond her the lights of several others. The captain, therefore, had no doubt but that he was right in his conjectures. Having passed the forts, we were standing on, when we found that we could not weather the brig-of-war we had seen ahead of us. We were close to her stern, when a hail came from her, but what was said we could not make out. The captain, however, supposing that the brig was Spanish, and wanted to know what ship ours was, answered—

“His Britannic Majesty’s frigate Juno!”