Our Sailors: Gallant Deeds of the British Navy during Victoria's Reign. William Henry Giles Kingston
mode of warfare—this dashing at once in the very face of their fort—was so novel and incomprehensible to the enemy, that they fled panic-struck into the jungle, and the leading men of the British could scarcely get a snap-shot at them. That evening the country was illuminated for miles by the burning of the capital, Paddi, and the adjacent villages. The guns in the forts were also taken and the stockades burnt. The banks of the river were here so narrow that it was necessary to keep vigilantly on the alert, as a spear even could easily be thrown across, though for the greater part of the night the burning houses made it light as day. In the evening, Doctors Simpson and Treacher amputated the arm of the captain of the forecastle on board the Dido. In the morning, a fleet of prahus came sweeping towards them, and were only discovered to be friends just in time to save them from a deadly discharge from the six-pounder.
In the evening, a party under Lieutenant Horton, who was accompanied by Rajah Brooke, was sent up the left stream. Captain Keppel was at supper on board the Jolly Bachelor, when the sound of the pinnace’s twelve-pounder carronade broke through the stillness of the night. This was responded to by one of those simultaneous war-yells, apparently from every part of the country. Captain Keppel, on this, jumping into his gig, pulled off to the aid of his friends. From the winding of the stream, the yells appeared to come from every direction—sometimes ahead, sometimes astern. Proceeding thus for nearly two hours, a sudden and quick discharge of musketry warned him that he was approaching the scene of action.
He kept his rifle ready for use on his knee; and to give an idea that he was bringing up a strong reinforcement, he ordered the bugler he had with him to strike up “Rory O’More.” This was immediately responded to by three British cheers, followed, however, by a deathlike silence, which made him suppose that the enemy were between him and his friends.
Seeing some human forms before him, he hailed, and, receiving no answer, fired, supposing them to be Dyaks, when, to his horror, Lieutenant Horton exclaimed, “We are here, sir.” Providentially no one was hurt. The sound of the current had prevented his hail being heard. The party had taken up a very clever position on the top of a bank from which the jungle had been cleared for about thirty yards, and which rose perpendicularly from a little bay just big enough to hold the boats. Here Lieutenant Gunnel was posted, with seven royal marines as a rear-guard. This was an important position, and one of danger, as the jungle itself was alive with the enemy; and although spears were hurled from it continually during the night, no shot was thrown away unless the figure of a pirate could be distinctly seen. The rain fell heavily, the men wore their greatcoats to keep their pieces dry. Often during the long night a musket was raised to the shoulder, and lowered, as the enemy flitted by. Those in the boats below stood facing the opposite bank of the river, with their arms in their hands.
It appears that the enemy had come down in great force to attack the boats from that side; and as the river was there very shallow, and the bottom hard, they could, by wading not more than knee-deep, have approached to within five or six yards of them. But in the first attack they had lost a good many men, and it is supposed that their repeated advances during the night were more to recover their dead and wounded, than to make any attack on the compact little force of British, whose deadly aim and rapid firing had told with such effect, and who certainly were, one and all, prepared to sell their lives as dearly as possible. For some object, the enemy had begun felling some large trees, and their torches showing their position, Mr. Partridge kept up a hot fire on them from the pinnace, till a signal rocket fired among them made them take to flight. Two natives and one marine of the British party were wounded; and the latter poor fellow, a gallant young officer named Jenkins, already distinguished in the Chinese war, volunteered to convey in the second gig, with four boys only, down to the Jolly Bachelor. He performed his duty, and was again up with the party before daylight.
At dawn the pirates began assembling in some force; but as the boats advanced up the river towards a spot where they had left their wives and children, they sent in a flag of truce. Several chiefs soon appeared, and the result of the conference was, that they undertook to abandon piracy if their lives were spared. This was agreed to, and they have strictly adhered to their promises.
Chapter Six.
Warfare on the Rivers La Plata and Parana.
Battle of the Parana—30th November 1845.
Juan da Rosas, having made himself master of La Plata, and taken possession of Buenos Ayres, closed the Rio de La Plata against all strangers. This was contrary to a treaty with the English and French; and accordingly an English and French squadron was despatched to open up the channel of commerce, the lighter vessels forming an expedition to force the Parana.
Rear-Admiral Inglefield was commander-in-chief, with his flag on board the Vernon. The French squadron was commanded by Admiral Laine. The command of the English force was given to Captain Charles Hotham, of HM steam-frigate Gorgon; and he had under him, Firebrand, steam-frigate, Captain J Hope; Philomel, surveying brig, Commander BJ Sulivan; Comus, eighteen guns, Acting Commander EA Inglefield; Dolphin, brigantine, Lieutenant R Levinge; Fanny, tender, Lieutenant AC Key.
On the 18th, the expedition arrived within three miles of the very strong defences General Rosas had caused to be thrown up on the right bank of the Parana, on Punta Obligada, to oppose their progress. This spot was about thirty miles below the river San Nicholas, and a hundred from the mouth of the river.
At daylight the following morning the two captains reconnoitred the position of the enemy, and soon discovered that great military skill had been evinced, both in the ground chosen and the plan of defence pursued.
The morning of the 20th broke dark and foggy, but about eight a.m. the weather cleared, and a southerly breeze sprang up. At a quarter to nine, the southern division weighed, and with a light wind stood towards the batteries, followed shortly afterwards by the San Martin and Comus. The Dolphin and Pandour had previously anchored on the north shore. Two of the Dolphin’s crew—R Rowe, gunner’s mate, and W Ross, caulker’s mate—though severely wounded, refused to leave their quarters till the day was won.
At about ten minutes before ten the batteries commenced the action by opening a heavy fire on the Philomel and the southern division, which Commander Sulivan speedily returned with interest. On this occasion the gallant Lieutenant Doyle, of the Philomel, had his arm shot away, and for some time his life was despaired of; but, notwithstanding the agony of his wound, he still showed his interest in the progress of the action. On this the Dolphin weighed, to support the ships in action; but as some of her sails were shot away before she could reach her appointed station, the current drove her astern, and compelled her to anchor. Lieutenant Levinge, however, contrived to place her in a position where her guns did good execution; she, however, was unavoidably exposed all the time to a tremendous shower of shot, shell, grape, and rockets, which came flying over her. During it several of her people were wounded; and Mr. G Andrews, clerk in charge, was unhappily killed while assisting the surgeon in his duties to the wounded.
The remaining ships of the north division were gallantly led into action by the brave Captain Trehouart, whose brig succeeded in reaching her appointed station.
A terrific cannonade was now taking place, increasing as the ships, one after the other, got into action. It had, however, unfortunately the effect of making the wind fall light; and, in consequence, the ships of the northern division, having to contend with a current running three miles an hour, were compelled to anchor two cables short of the stations assigned to them. About this time the Spaniards cast loose the fire-vessels, chained two and two together; and as they came drifting down rapidly towards the squadron, the steamers kept moving about to tow them clear, should they drift against any of the ships. Fortunately they did no harm; but, till they had drifted past, the steamers could neither anchor nor open their fire.
At about ten minutes to eleven the action became general; and the effect of the admirable gunnery practice,