The Three Lieutenants

by William Henry Giles Kingston

Before long the carpenter returned, his countenance showing the anxiety he vainly endeavoured to conceal.

“There are more leaks than one, sir, through which the water is rushing in like a mill-sluice; and it’s more than man can do to stop them from within-board,” he said, coming aft to the commander. “You’ll pardon me, sir, but it’s my duty to say that unless we heave the guns overboard, with everything else to lighten the ship, and can get a thrummed sail under her bottom, she’ll founder before the world is many minutes older.”

“Very well, Mr Auger, I’ll consider what you say,” answered Commander Babbicome; who, though obstinate and irritable under ordinary circumstances, was cool enough in moments of danger. Murray, who had been below, confirmed the carpenter’s report. The boatswain was ordered to get a sail up and prepare it as proposed, while the drummer beat to quarters. Gladly would the crew have mustered had it been to meet an enemy, but it was to perform a task the most painful of all to a man-of-war’s man, and one of no small danger.

“Heave the guns overboard!” shouted the commander. “Watch the right time now.”

As the dismasted ship rolled in the foaming seas raging around her, first the guns on one side were allowed to slip through the ports, then those on the other went plunging into the deep. The anchors were next cut away from the bows, and now the attempt was made to get the thrummed sail under the ship’s bottom. It seemed well-nigh hopeless, with the ship rolling and the heavy seas breaking over her. Murray and the other officers laboured as hard as any one, setting an example, by their energy and courage, to the men dispirited by the loss of so many of their shipmates. Two hawsers were at length got under the ship’s bottom, when the sail filled with oakum was hauled over the part where the worst leaks were supposed to exist. Still the water rushed in. The efforts of the hands at the pumps were redoubled, and anxious eyes were turned towards the frigate, which could still be dimly seen to leeward, but too far off to render them any assistance should the sea overcome all their efforts, and carry the ship to the bottom. That this would be her fate before long seemed too probable; the bulwarks in many places had been crushed in—the boats stove or carried away, scarcely a spare spar remained—everything on deck had been swept off it; indeed, it seemed a wonder that she should still be afloat.

A short jury-mast was got up, fixed to the stump of the fore-mast, and a spare royal was bent to a yard and hoisted in the hopes of getting the ship before the wind; but scarcely had the sail been sheeted home, before it had produced the slightest effect, than away went the canvas, mast, and spar to leeward. A second attempt to set a sail was made with similar want of success, and now not an available spar remained on which another could be hoisted.

“Spell, ho!” was cried more frequently than at first, as the exhausted hands at the pumps summoned their shipmates to relieve them, when they staggered to the stumps of the masts or the remaining stanchions and bulwarks, to which they clung to save themselves from being borne away by the wild surges as they broke on board. Thus the disastrous day wore on, to be followed by a still more fearful night. Even the most hopeful had no expectation of seeing another sunrise, as the increasing darkness told them that it had sunk into the storm-tossed ocean.

Alick Murray had endeavoured to maintain that calmness of mind, one of the characteristics for which he was noted. Thought, however, was busy. He, like the rest, believed that ere long the fierce waves would sweep over the foundering ship, and his life, with the lives of all on board, would be brought to a close; for who could hope to escape with not a boat remaining uninjured, and scarcely a spar to afford support? One thought, however, afforded him consolation; the brig, with his beloved Stella on board, had long ere this got well to the southward of the latitude the hurricane was likely to reach, and she, at all events, would escape its fury. Earnestly he prayed that she might be protected from the many dangers she might have to encounter, and though he knew she would mourn his loss, that she might find comfort and he restored in time to happiness.

The rage of the hurricane was unabated—a dreadful darkness settled down over the deep; the only objects to be seen beyond the deck of the labouring ship being the black mountainous seas, crested with hissing foam, which rose up on either beam, threatening every instant to overwhelm her.

In the meantime the frigate, well prepared as she had been to encounter the first onslaught of the hurricane, flew before it unharmed. As she passed the corvette, Captain Hemming, seeing her perilous condition, hailed, promising to heave-to if possible, and lay by her, but the wild uproar of the elements drowned his voice. To bring the ship to the wind under the full force of the hurricane was, indeed, a difficult and dangerous operation, which only the urgent necessity of the case rendered allowable. The captain of the Plantagenet was not the man to desert a consort in distress, and notwithstanding the risk to be run he determined to make the attempt. Still some time elapsed before the trysails could be set, and during it the frigate had run considerably to leeward of the corvette. The ports were closed, the hatches secured, preventer stays set up; every device, indeed, which good seamanship could suggest, was adopted to provide for the safety of the ship. The boats were secured by additional lashings, as was everything that could be washed away on deck. Relieving tackles were also rove, and four of the best hands were sent to the helm. The crew were at their stations, ready to carry out the intended operation. All was ready, but it was necessary to wait for an opportunity to avoid the fury of the mountain foam-crested billows, rolling in quick succession across the ocean, one of which, striking her bows as she came up to the wind, would have treated the proud frigate with little less ceremony than they would a mere cock-boat. Even during the fiercest gale there are spots on the surface of the sea which are less agitated than elsewhere, while at times there comes a lull of the wind, often the precursor, however, of a more furious blast. For such a lull the captain waited. It came.