And now the great tulzie commenced in awful earnest, for Duncan ranged himself up against the _Vreyheid_ to the lee, while to windward of her was the _Ardent_. But three mighty Dutchmen came down hand-over-hand to the defence of their brave admiral's ship. So fearful was the fire of these latter that Duncan's ship would speedily have been placed _hors de combat_, had not others come to his rescue and restored the balance. But nothing could withstand the fury of Duncan's onslaught; and at last, with every officer dead or wounded, the brave Dutch admiral hauled down his flag. Twice during the terrible combat had Admiral Duncan's flag been shot away. It was then that bold Jack Crawford, whose name indicates his Scottish origin, wrapped the colours round his waist, and providing himself with nails and a hammer, climbed nearly to the main-truck and nailed the ensign to the mast. Duncan received De Winter's sword, and soon after the battle was over and the victory ours. A glorious day and a glorious victory, but, ah! how dearly bought. It gives us some faint notion of the pluck and go of our navy in those fighting days of old, to learn that the _Ardent_ had her captain and forty officers and men slain outright, and no less than one hundred and seven wounded. The scene in the cockpit during a fight like this is one that genius alone could graphically depict. The centre-ground of the picture is the big table, around which the surgeons are at work, stripped to their shirts, their faces stained, their hands and garments dripping gore. The whole place is filled with stifling smoke, through which the glimmering lights are but faintly seen; but all around are ranged the wounded, the gashed, the bleeding, awaiting their turn on the terrible table. You can hear them if you cannot see them--hear them groaning, sometimes even shrieking, in their agony; and the mournful call for "Water! water!" is heard in every lull of the fight or momentary cessation of cannon's roar. And bending low as they move among them are the stewards and idlers of the ship, serving out the coveted draught. But down the blood-slippery companion-ladder come the bearers incessantly, carrying as gently as a Jack can their sorely-stricken messmates. Verily a sad scene! On deck war is witnessed in all its pomp and its panoply, on deck is honour and glory; the dark side is seen in the cockpit--the sorrow, the despair, the hopelessness, the agony, the death. CHAPTER XX. NELSON AND THE NILE. "With one of his precious limbs shot away, Bold Nelson knowed well how to trick 'em; So, as for the French, 'tis as much as to say, We can tie up one hand, and then lick 'em." DIBDIN.