186 CAPTAIN BROKE [1813. already captured the Peacock, an English battleship, and was known to be one of the most gallant of men. Having sent the challenge, Captain Broke now went up to the mast-head of the Shannon and watched anxiously for any movement on the part of the hostile ship. A faint breeze rippled over the waters of the Boston Harbour, while the summer sun lit up the town beyond. Mid-day came, and Broke descended to the deck. "She will surely be out to-day or to-morrow," he said, pointing over the gleaming waters. The hours passed on. Daylight was beginning to wane, when a cry rang out through the ship, "She is coming!" It was true. Sail after sail spread forth, flag after flag unfurled, and with all speed the Chesapeake was seen bearing down on her expectant foe, attended by barges and pleasure-boats. To the men of Boston, it seemed that Lawrence sailed forth to certain victory. They crowded house-tops and hills to see his success; they prepared a banquet to celebrate his triumphant return. Slowly and in grim silence the Shannon and Chesapeake drew near. On board the Shannon, Broke was addressing his men. "Shannons!" he cried, "the Americans have lately triumphed over the British flag; they have said that England had forgotten how to fight. You will let them see to-day, there are Englishmen in the Shannon who still know how to fight. Don't 188 THE SHANNON WINS. [1813. cheer. Go quietly to your posts. I know you will all do your duty." As the Chesapeake moved on, a blaze of fluttering colours, one sailor looked sadly at the one faded blue flag above him. "Mayn't we have three ensigns, sir, like she has?" he asked. "No," answered the Captain; "we have always been an unassuming ship." The fight soon began. Never was there a braver, shorter, or more deadly conflict. On both sides the fire was tremendous, but the well-trained British gunners on the Shannon fired with deadly aim; every shot told. The rigging of the Chesapeake was torn, her stern was beaten in, her decks were swept by fire. For six minutes the conflict raged. Lawrence had already fallen, mortally wounded. As the two ships ground together, Broke shouted above the din, Follow me who can!" Then bounding on to the deck of the Chesapeake, over the bodies of dead and dying, the English sailors boarded the American ship, and thirteen minutes after the first shot had been fired, the British flag waved over the Chesapeake. 66 "Blow her up! blow her up!" cried the dying Lawrence. But it was too late. The foe had yielded; resistance was over. Broke, now lying badly wounded, had won. He had restored confidence in his country's fleet, but at tremendous cost. 252 men 1812.] NAPOLEON IN RUSSIA. 189 from the two ships fell that day. It was characteristic of the Captain of the Shannon, that he should enter in his journal for that day only two words— "Took Chesapeake." This ended the naval war, though fighting by land went on between the two countries till 1814, when peace was made, which has never been broken. since. 39. NAPOLEON'S RETREAT FROM MOSCOW. "No pitying voice commands a halt, -WORDSWORTH. THE story of Napoleon's advance to and retreat from Moscow, is one of the most pathetic in human history. Full of spirit, the Grand Army had started, but already difficulties were beginning. It took three days to cross the Niemen, by means of pontoon bridges thrown across; but they reached the far side unmolested, and pursued their way over the sandy wastes. The solitude of the way, the sultry heat of a Russian midsummer, and drenching thunderstorms depressed the spirits of the army. By the time they reached Vilna some seventy miles on -10,000 horses had perished, 30,000 stragglers had deserted, and there were 190 NAPOLEON AT MOSCOW. [1812. 25,000 sick men, and the transports as yet ever so far behind. It was not till July 16, that an advance was possible, and the Grand Army could once more inarch on its way to Moscow. Fever and disease now played their part, and food ran short. No human genius could have achieved the stupendous task, Napoleon had now undertaken. So fearful was the prospect, that Napoleon seriously thought of putting off the invasion till the spring. But the temptation of conquest was strong upon him, and once more the great host moved forward to Smolensko. The Russians moved out of each city as the French advanced. At last, on September 7, the two armies met some seventy miles from Moscow, and a tremendous battle was fought at Borodino. Both sides claimed the victory, which neither had won, though 40,000 French and 30,000 Russians lay wounded or dead on the battlefield. The Grand Army, now so reduced in size, reached Moscow a week later. There lay the famous city at last at the foot of the hill, with its gardens, its churches, its river, its steeples crowned with golden balls, all flashing and blazing in the bright morning sunlight of that autumn day. "Moscow ! Moscow !" cried the delighted soldiers. Yes, here at last is the famous city," said Napoleon, reigning in his horse. The conqueror entered his new capital, expecting |