Trafalgar

the wind was slack when night fell we were close under Punta Carnero. The night was blacker than a barrel of pitch, but the weather was fine so we could hold on our way in spite of the darkness. Most of the crew were asleep; I remember, I was sitting in the fo’castle talking to the mate, Pepe Débora, who was telling me all the dog’s tricks his mother-in-law had played him, and alongside we could see the lights of the San Hermenegildo, which was sailing at a gunshot to starboard. The other ships were ahead of us. For the very last thing we any of us thought of was that the Greatcoats had slipped out of Gibraltar and were giving chase⁠—and how the devil should we, when they had doused all their lights and were stealing up to us without our guessing it? Suddenly, for all that the night was so dark, I fancied I saw something⁠—I always had a port-light like a lynx⁠—I fancied a ship was standing between us and the San Hermenegildo, which was sailing at a gunshot to starboard. ‘José Débora,’ says I, ‘either I saw a ghost or there is an Englishman to starboard?’ José Débora looks himself, and then he says: ‘May the mainmast go by the board,’ says he, ‘if there is e’er a ship to starboard but the San Hermenegildo.’ ‘Well,’ says I, ‘whether or no I am going to tell the officer of the watch.’

“Well hardly were the words out of my mouth when, rub-a-dub! we heard the tune of a whole broadside that came rattling against our ribs. The crew were on deck in a minute, and each man at his post. That was a rumpus, señora! I wish you could have been there, just to have an idea of how these things are managed. We were all swearing like demons and at the same time praying the Lord to give us a gun at the end of every finger to fight them with. Ezguerra gave the word to return their broadside.⁠—Thunder and lightning! They fired again, and in a minute or two we responded. But in the midst of all the noise and confusion we discovered that with their first broadside they had sent one of those infernal combustibles (but he called it ‘comestibles’) on board which fall on the deck as if it were raining fire. When we saw our ship was burning we fought like madmen and fired off broadside after broadside. Ah! Doña Francisca, it was hot work I can tell you!⁠—Then our captain took us alongside of the enemy’s ship that we might board her. I wish you could have seen it! I was in my glory then; in an instant we had our axes and boarding-pikes out, the enemy was coming down upon us and my heart jumped for joy to see it, for this was the quickest way of settling accounts. On we go, right into her!⁠—Day was just beginning to dawn, the yards were touching, and the boarding parties ready at the gangways when we heard Spanish oaths on board the foe. We all stood dumb with horror, for we found that the ship we had been fighting with was the San Hermenegildo herself.”

“That was a pretty state of things,” said Doña Francisca roused to some interest in the narrative. “And how had you been such asses⁠—with not a pin to choose between you?”

“I will tell you. We had no time for explanations then. The flames on our ship went over to the San Hermenegildo and then, Blessed Virgin! what a scene of confusion. ‘To the boats!’ was the cry. The fire caught the Santa Bárbara and her ladyship blew up with loud explosion.⁠—We were all swearing, shouting, blaspheming God and the Virgin and all the Saints, for that seems the only way to avoid choking when you are primed to fight, up to the very muzzle.⁠ ⁠…”

“Merciful Heavens how shocking!” cried my mistress. “And you escaped?”

“Forty of us got off in the launch and six or seven in the gig, these took up the second officer of the San Hermenegildo. José Débora clung to a piece of plank and came to shore at Morocco, more dead than alive.”

“And the rest?”

“The rest⁠—the sea was wide enough to hold them all. Two thousand men went down to Davy Jones that day, and among them our captain, Ezguerra, and Emparán, the captain of the other ship.”

“Lord have mercy on them!” ejaculated Doña Francisca. “Though God knows! they were but ill-employed to be snatched away to judgment. If they had stayed quietly at home, as God requires.⁠ ⁠…”

“The cause of that disaster,” said Don Alonso, who delighted in getting his wife to listen to these dramatic narratives, “was this: The English emboldened by the darkness arranged that the Superb, the lightest of their vessels, should extinguish her lights and slip through between our two finest ships. Having done this, she fired both her broadsides and then put about as quickly as possible to escape the struggle that ensued. The two men-of-war, finding themselves unexpectedly attacked, returned fire and thus went on battering each other till dawn, when, just as they were about to board, they recognized each other and the end came as Marcial has told you in detail.”

“Ah! and they played the game well,” cried the lady. “It was well done though it was a mean trick!”

“What would you have?” added Marcial. “I never loved them much; but since that night!⁠ ⁠… If they are in Heaven I do not want ever to go there. Sooner would I be damned to all eternity!”

“Well⁠—and then the taking of the four frigates which were coming from Rio de la Plata?” asked Don Alfonso, to incite the old sailor to go on with his stories.

“Aye⁠—I was at that too,” said Marcial. “And that was where I left my leg. That time too they took us unawares, and as it was in