death, any officer coming on board any of
his vessels, except Captain Bathurst.

On the forenoon of the 18th of October,
1827, the Genoa made the island of
Zante, and bore up for the harbour of
Navarino in the Morea, before which the
English, French, and Russian fleets were
cruising. We had scarcely got in the middle
of them, about one o'clock, before a signal
flew at the mizen top–gallant mast–head
of the Asia, the admiral Sir Edward
Codrington's flag–ship.

"You need not look at the signal–book,"
said our captain. "I know that
signal well. It is to tell us to clear for
action."

The brave old boy then called the drummer
and fifer, and ordered them to beat to
quarters, and also told the gig crew to get
ready, as he was going on board the
admiral's vessel.

The fleet, which lay in a calm and glassy
sea, consisted of ten line–of–battle ships,
three English, three Russian, and four
French; with frigates, sloops of war, and
gun–ships, making in all a total of thirty–two
sail, all cleared for action. The
Russian ships, fine new–looking vessels,
strongly built, but clumsily rigged, were
commanded by Rear–Admiral Count Heyden:
the French, by Chevalier de Rigney.

We soon got the Genoa ready for fighting.
Nothing left on the decks but what
was wanted for the guns—rammers,
sponges, handspikes, and match–tubs. The
chests and mess things we stowed down
in the hold. Tables were ranged in the
tiers to rest the wounded upon—fire–screens
were hung on the magazine hatchways,
and two casks of water for the men to
drink were lashed to the stanchions on
the deck amidships. Boxes of grape (each
shot as big as a walnut) and canister shot
were placed between each gun, with large
cheeses of wads braced to the breast of
each; every bulkhead in the ship was taken
down by the carpenters. When all this
was done, the men went to work in
different corners of the main–deck; the
gunners' crew to make wads; the armourers
to clean gun–locks; the top–men to get the
top chains up, with which to string the
yards.

The morning of the 19th was beautifully
calm. The high lands on the shore
gradually, one by one, shook off the sultry
mist, and stood out blue and sharp. We
were about three miles from the entrance
to the harbour of Navarino, and, at the
distance, it seemed scarcely wide enough
to admit a single line–of–battle ship. Our
squadron, now obeying signal, were lying
with their sails furled, and in close order.
Presently we saw the Dartmouth frigate,
all sail set, pass into the bay with our
admiral's final proposition to Ibrahim Pasha.
It was just sunset when she was seen
coming out of Navarino with all sail spread,
but coming very slowly, owing to the calm.
She hoisted the signal. "We shall wait
for a better opportunity of entering the
harbour to–morrow. Furl sails, and lie to
for the night."

Our sails were soon furled, and everything
made snug. The men not on watch
spent the evening drinking, sleeping, or
writing home. After a rest of four hours,
the sleepers were roused by the cry of the
boatswain's mate,  both watches pass up
shot." A line of men was formed for the
purpose from the shot–locker to the main
ladder. We soon had the tubs filled and
everything prepared; the sun was just
rising when we were called on deck to make
sail. The English squadron had kept nearly
abreast of Navarino harbour during the
night, but the Russian and French ships
had dropped four or five miles to leeward,
so we made a stretch out from the land
to give our allies time to come up before
we stood in for the bay.

At six bells (eleven o'clock) the drum
beat to quarters with the stirring tune of
"Hearts of Oak." The lieutenant of my
quarters was a young man named Broke,
son of that brave captain who fought the
Chesapeake. His words to us were:

"Now, my men, you see we are going
into the harbour to–day. I know you'll be
glad of it; at least I suppose you would
be as much against cruising off here, all the
winter, as I am. So I say let's in to–day,
and fight it out like British seamen, and if
we fall, why there's an end of our cruise.
You'll all be at your stations."

We cheered, the drum beat "retreat," and
in a few minutes some of the men, tired with
their night– work, were stretched fast asleep
between the guns. Half an hour afterwards,
a whisper passed round, "the captain!"
I and some of the rest, seeing his grey
head appearing, started up, and tried to
rouse the others; but he good–naturedly
said, "Let them be, let them be, poor
fellows; they'll have enough to do before
night;" and, walking forward, he stepped
over them with great care.

We were soon within two miles of the
entrance to Navarino Bay, when all the
boatswains piped to dinner. We were quieter