13 - Blake of the "Rattlesnake" - Blake's Revolt

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
Chapter thirteen of Blake of the Rattlesnake. This is a
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This recording is by Mark Smith of Simpsonville, South Carolina.

(00:23):
Blake of the Rattlesnake by Frederick T. Jane, Chapter thirteen,
Blake's Revolt. In a few minutes, Blake had come aboard
the Prize, and I welcomed him like one risen from
the dead. There was no time then to hear how
he had rejoined us so quickly the transfer of prisoners

(00:44):
to the Ratto and Hornet occupied our undivided attention. In
a short while, we had removed the Crescents boat's crew
and the fifty men who alone remained alive of the
brave French ship's company. Then taking out her to our
pedoes for our own future use, we abandoned the vessel.
The Hornet fired a torpedo at her. She began to

(01:07):
settle down, and thus ended the career of the Chasseluplobat.
We were again out of the wood, steaming back to
Lamlash with lighthearts and So soon as we were well
on our way, I asked Blake what had happened since
our meeting with the Crescent, and how we got rid
of her? Oh, he said, laughing, I've been taking a

(01:30):
leaf out of the book of the diplomatic service. You see,
old stick in the mud. Bless him took our claim
to the Frenchman as genuinely meant on our part, and
whatever he may have thought, congratulated me on our enterprise.
When we met him, the old boy had just captured
a privateer of sorts and sent her off again with

(01:52):
a prize crew. So he was choked full of prisoners
as twas without the Chasseluplobat's people told him we could
manage all right, and would take her into Londonderry without
troubling him, so he might as well recall the boat's
crew he'd sent on board. All of this he fell
in with, and then began asking about the war and

(02:14):
so on. I told him the latest, which, to my
astonishment I found he was in entire ignorance of Though
I should have known that the cables being cut, he
had no means of hearing. So soon when he got
over his first surprise, he asked where we came from
and what we were doing, so I had to pitch

(02:36):
it a bit. I told him, in fact, that we
were lying at Bantry, with the Hornet making little excursions
from thence every now and again. He, on his part,
told me that having dished up all the French in
his part of the world, he had to hunt farther afield.
Now he would steam back to Halifax as hard as possible,

(02:58):
collect his ships and re turned to the channel. And
we two destroyers would be a handy addition. So it
was all fixed up that he and I were to
cruise around while the Hornet took the prize into harbor,
and Garon rejoining us at an appointed rendezvous. We were
all to make for North America. Very good, sir, said I,

(03:21):
And as soon as it got dark, I dropped a
bit of stern of station, turned round sharp and came
along to hear as I'd arranged with Garon at thirty knots.
I don't know whether the old boy is looking for
the Ratto or no, but we can't bring him to
lamblesh to court martial us. All we've sent too deeply

(03:42):
to draw back now if we wish to even our
special job will be over ere he gets across again,
and we will join him then with pleasure. Well, sir,
there's one consolation anyhow, I rejoined the Admiralty having been
superseded by a parliamentary self elected board. This precious concern

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has no more right to control us than our friend Green.
And talking of Green, what's become of him? Sir? I
believe I was supposed to keep an eye on him,
but I can't remember seeing him since we left Lamlash. Oh,
Green's all right. I came across him on deck after
the frenchman struck about his own color from fright and

(04:26):
sea sickness, poor devil. I stowed him down below, lest
some of the crescents should see him and wonder what
the dickens we were at with a triced up civilian
on deck. I had him shoveled into the wardroom. Now
he's gone forward, as I don't fancy our plucky French
prisoner seeing this sample of an englishman. Elsa craig at

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length loomed up in the morning sunlight, and soon we
were lying beside our chums in the old harbor at Lamlash.
We learned that the frenchman who penetrated the harbor had
been sunk by our minds while trying to come out
to the rescue of the others, so all danger in
this direction was passed. As for the merchantman, she had

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been towed well into harbor during our absence, and her
engines were now being repaired by her own people, who
had made no demur at having to cast in their
lot with the Aeronites, as we called ourselves. Our new
companion turned out to be the Alta, a merchantmen armed
in men by naval reserve fellows, and at the time

(05:32):
of her adventure, she was running the blockade that the
enemy had already partially established round the greater part of
the coast. The cruiser we destroyed shortly after our arrival,
and our late visitors belonged, I believe, to the blockading fleet,
which must have become rather thin in our direction. Blake

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rather feared more coming to look for these missing ones,
but the losses were put down to the crescent, which
thus did us a good turn unconsciously, and they were
all busy looking for her. The French sub remained with
us on parole for some days after his men and
Green had been transferred to the Elizabeth E. Greenwood and

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the Alta. He was a decent sort, and as he
could speak English fairly well, I got quite chummy with him.
My French wouldn't go much beyond remarks on the weather.
From him, I learned that the skipper of the Chasselouplobas
had guessed what our presence at Lamblash meant, and so
started to warn his friends at all hazards. Why did

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you attack the crescent, then I asked Voila. He replied,
what would you when we found the two English dragonflies
would not let us be? We knew that all was up,
said our captain. It shall be the bigger ship that
shall destroy us, And so it was. We had no hope,

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only to fight and die as brave men. His eyes
filled with tears as he said this, and not quite
knowing what to do, I shook hands with him several
times as a mark of sympathy and esteem. And now
he went on, I wish it had been your captain
to whom we had struck, for he is a great man,

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a modern Nelson, and he will destroy all my poor compatriots.
Yet I felt that he spoke the truth and that
if man could accomplish it, Blake, of all men, was
the most fitted for the task. But this being an
awkward sort of thing to tell him, I held my
peace and changed the subject. Our preparations were now going

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steadily onwards. The damages sustained in the late action were
being rapidly repaired, and in a few days more we
should be ready to start, I say, Bovary. Blake said,
one night a week or so later. You like adventures,
so you can come on a spying out the land
trip with me if you like. I'm off in the

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Groggy Lizaar tomorrow as a Yankee skipper, and you can
come too, if you care to. I readily assented. I
was already sick to death of lamblash. It's forced inactivity
and the utter dearth of news. Are you going to
take green, sir, asked Thorn with a smile. Good lord,

(08:28):
i'd quite forgotten that fellow's trial, exclaimed Blake. I've fixed
it to come off this afternoon too, though upon my word,
I don't know what we can do with him, and
he started off for the Yankee Collier. Having nothing better
to do, I asked leave to accompany him, so as
to get my bearings before starting on the Morrow's cruise. Green,

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somewhat violent, was being brought up from below as we
boarded the Yankee. The terrors of the night when he
attempted to escape and his subsequent adventures had half turned
the man's brain, and he was still keeping up his
wail about the million pounds. I guess if I were
the Britishers, I'd drop him overboard with a stone round

(09:15):
his neck. And no mistake, I heard, simband ed rock,
the Yankee skipper observed to his first mate. But fortunately
for Green, Blake and his fellow skippers were less austere
two hundred thousand pounds. If you'll only land me in
Glasgow to day, whined the wretched prisoner to his judges.

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I'll make all your fortunes for you. I will. Indeed,
it's a dead sure thing. Just buy the shares they'll
give em away, then set afloat the news of this
fleet being here and sell out. Oh there's millions in it, millions, yes,
he went on addressing Blake. Just you think of it,

(10:00):
my friend. You needn't go and fight and get killed
for nothing, but just stay in here and make a
million pounds a million pounds. That's enough, said Blake. Shortly,
we've just met to settle whether it will be necessary
to shoot you, or whether we can stow you away
out of harm without killing you as you deserve what.

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He shrieked, still wanting to murder me. How true it
is that the love of money is the root of
all evil? Oh God, save me, spare me, spare me.
And sinking to the floor, he lay there, moaning and
praying after a fashion while the discussion as to his
fate continued. Suddenly he sprang to his feet again, making

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a desperate effort to reach an open port with what
mad idea of escape I know not Be still, you
miserable hound, Blake shouted. You don't think we're really going
to waste powder and shot or good rope either over
your wretched carcass. You'll do anything to make sure of
being able to buy up all the shares yourself, groaned Green.

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As soon as he had been brought to a standstill,
he was utterly unable to conceive that we could aim
at anything higher than the making of money. Money and
the juggling with it were the gods he worshiped. He
and thousands of others who like him disgraced the name
of Englishmen. But for him the days of money juggling

(11:32):
were over. For he again fell to the ground, blood
rushing from his mouth. A fit brought on by terror
and anger had killed him. We sent his body ashore
for burial, without sorrow and without regret. England, in her
hour of woe, was better freed from such as he.

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It was yet early when the Elizabeth E. Greenwood, with
Blake as captain and me as superco argo, steamed out
of the harbor on our scouting expedition, an expedition to
find out and settle the day of our bursting forth
as the avengers of fallen Britain. It was a risky
move enough, but we were too used to risks by

(12:15):
now to trouble or think much about that. For myself,
I was quite sure that Blake was fully capable of
getting us out of any hole he might run into.
Let's see, said Blake as he paced the Collier's Bridge.
We want dynamite torpedoes, if possible, reliable news at all hazards, well,

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here goes for it. Birkenhead is a likely place for that,
but we'll have a look in at Holyhead. First of all,
At Holyhead, which we reached without meeting any blockaders, we
put in as a Yankee runner, and finding there a
torpedo boat number fifty four, Blake sent me on board

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of her. The sub in command, Borset by name, was
an old ship of mine, and startled he was to
recognize me in the supposed Yankee apprentice. He told me
that he had been lying idle at Holyhead, save for
an occasional fruitless cruise on his own responsibility, during the
whole of the war, and opined that both he and

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his boat had been completely forgotten at headquarters. He had
therefore had very easy times of it, and even had
his father on board as a guest. The old gentleman
was a regular fire eater, and judging that by this
time he must have picked up a deal of knowledge
about torpedo boats, Blake, at his earnest request, let him

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stay on board as a sort of acting sub to
his own son. From Holyhead, where thanks to Borsett's telling
us of them, we managed to collar a dozen spare torpedoes,
we went back to Birkenhead. I could fill pages with
this strange voyage, but my space runs short, and I

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must content myself with a mere relation of two of
its leading incidents. Arrived off the Mercy port, Blake flew
the Russian ensign and a flag of truce. Getting into
the torpedo boat, he steamed swiftly towards the harbor and
alongside a landing stage where the mayor and corporation had
come in great haste, But Blake did not stay to

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parley with them. Hastily handing in a letter addressed to
the authorities, he was off again at full speed. Nor
was he much too soon for three second class torpedo
boats manned by local crews were making for the supposed
hostile warship. Number fifty four. Steamed up to these with
a view of giving them some explanation, but they did

(14:52):
not wait to receive it, as they turned tail and
ran back the moment they saw Blake coming. This was
my first and d last experience of local crews, who,
though plucky enough, doubtless were much too undisciplined to be
of any practical value for war service. An hour or
so later, a tug flying a flag of truce came

(15:15):
out to us, bearing a local big wig in person,
a large quantity of dynamite, and quite an army of
newspaper reporters. Blake and I hastily bordered her, as we
did not want them in the Yankee Collier, where they
might have heard too much. Sir, said the big Wig
to Blake, do me the honor to allow me to

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shake hands with you. We trust that you will be
able to remain in the mercy, which, as you must note,
is far from adequately protected. Indeed, I assure you, Captain,
I'm afraid you omitted your name and your letter. Whitehead
is my name at your service, sir, said Blake, giving

(15:59):
me the slightest perceptible wink. Most appropriate name for a
torpedo officer, I'm sure, replied the big Wig, and the
scribblers behind him all made a note of it. Hem
he continued, The price of the dynamite is five hundred pounds.
I suppose it would be all right with the Admiralty.

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I'll send on board for the money in hard cash,
if you'd prefer it, answered Blake, Well, no matter. Still,
if it isn't any inconvenience, it would relieve me of
a certain onerous responsibility. Had a word from Blake, I
skipped on board the groggy lazaar and got the coin

(16:43):
from her. Captain, who deeply interested in our enterprise, had
taken the precaution of putting all his men in the forecastle,
out of sight and hearing of the reporters. When I returned,
the bigwig was questioning Blake, and the pressman jotting down
his replies. It's a close secret, of course, Blake was saying,

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But I am hiding away not far from the mouth
of the Shannon. I hope to torpedo some of the
enemy who cruise round there, and I hope most out
of this dynamite. I'm going to mine Bantry Bay with
it and blow up all the French who use that place.
A dozen pencils were scribbling down the words as Blake

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uttered them, and the local dignitary ejaculated splendid. I suppose
our torpedo boats would be of no use to you.
We might be prepared to lend them for a consideration,
Blake declined, hastily, then saying it was time for him
to be off. We returned to the Collier. It's good

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to be patriotic at times. I heard the local big
wig chuckle to himself as we made off, and in
view of what he had charged Blake for his dynamite,
I fancied he spoke the true about himself. The tug
cast off, and we steamed away, with a torpedo boat
following a stern and the stars and stripes gaily fluttering

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from our peak. As soon as we were hauled down
from Liverpool, Borset made off for Loose Bay as hard
as he could pelt, we following in more leisurely fashion.
This precaution was in case we should meet an enemy's cruiser, which,
seeing a torpedo boat in our company, might become unduly inquisitive.

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And it was a good thing that Blake was so cautious,
for off the calf of Man we sighted a French
cruiser standing towards us. She proved to be the Duquesne,
a rather ancient old tub to whom we could have
shown our heels in a stern chase had we so minded.
She signaled to the Elizabeth E. Greenwood to lie by,

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and sent a boat to inspect us. When we obeyed,
sindbad n Rock, as a cellar of notions to blockaders,
was ready to welcome the French officer, who might have
refused to believe in the genuineness of the Yankee flag,
had Simbad been less American. The papers were overhauled and

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found satisfactory. The Frenchman was preparing to go when his
eye caught one of our dummy torpedo boats that lay
upon the collier's deck, from which the turpollin cover had
partially slipped. He looked at it curiously, but before he
could remark about it, the hand of Sinbad and Rock
crashed upon his back as he asked, say, stranger, will

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you deal a genuine torpedo boat for one thousand dollars
dirt cheap and a bargain? You can frighten the Britishes
with it, and no mistake and no loss to you
if they sink it. Real Brumagen, Well, I suppose I'll
take eight hundred to clear. The officer, but half understanding

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yet with suspicions fully roused, strode to the side and
called to his boat's crew that he wished his captain
to come on board, and they started back to the
Ducaine to fetch him. I guess it's cut and run now, captain,
said Simbad to Blake. Blake nodded, and full speed ahead,

(20:20):
was hastily ordered. The distance between the ships was about
three cables, and until their boat reached them and they
missed their officer, it was possible the cruiser's suspicions would
not be aroused by our moving on. Going at fifteen knots,
we should by that time be out of range of
her guns. So off we went without delay. Collar the

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French ye sharp cried blake to me, and I succeeded
in seizing him, just as he drew his revolver to
fire and give the alarm to his ship. He fought
like a wildcat before we had him down. However, still
he was triced up at last. At length, it occurred
to the dukes that our moving on might not be

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in order, and she fired a blank charge at us. Then,
as we took no manner of heed, she sent a
shot ricocheting across our bows, and a minute or two
later one went singing over us. A broadside followed, but
the range was too far for them the shot fell short.
Her ten knots were no good against our fifteen, and

(21:24):
gradually we drew away until we had left her far
behind in the glow of the sunset. After that, calling
in at Loose Bay for young Borset. We got back
to Lamlash without further adventure. Indeed, we had had our
full meed of it already. Still, what with the dynamite
and the necessary newspapers, we had profited well. The newspapers

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were essential requirements, as from them we could learn whether
the time had arrived for us to start Blake and
I scanned them eagerly reading the war news, which included
telegraphic reports of the bombardment of Sheerness by the Russians
and the complete failure of the Brennan torpedo, on which
the Medway had counted so much. We were by now

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too used to tales of disaster to be very much
affected by this last one. And I think I may
say that we felt keener interest in the fate of
Admiral Sir p Gangren, commander in chief at the Nore,
than in the destruction of a few more forts that
were built with money that should have been spent on ships.
Admiral Gangren, you may remember, after vainly telegraphing for assistance,

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had put to sea in his steam yacht, the Wildfire,
accompanied by flag captain counterpoys, with a view to observing
the movements of the retreating Russians, and his return was
no longer hoped for. It was not till long after
the war was over that I learned how the Gallant
Admiral was captured, only to be set ashore again on

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the first opportunity, his criticism on their details of uniform
and style of hair dressing being more than his captors
could endure. These episodes, the Indian Mutiny, the investment of London,
and the running away of our volunteer Army Corps gave
us plenty to talk about. But in the midst of

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it all we had one thing for self congratulation. Though
they had been unable to stamp out our cruisers on
the high seas, the enemy believed that all that remained
of the British Navy in home waters was securely shut
up in Plymouth's Sound or at Chatham. Of the existence
of Blake's flotilla, no one seemed to have the least

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idea end of Chapter