the _Vreyheid_. Just as in days of long, long ago the
chiefs of opposing armies used to delight to single each other out and
fight hand-to-hand, so did bold Duncan keep his eye on the Dutchman, and
as soon as the battle had commenced he went straight for her. As he bore
down towards her, however, the _States-General_ presented a target that
he could not resist, for she was stern on to the _Venerable_. Murderous
indeed was the broadside Duncan poured into her, raking her from aft to
fore. This vessel soon after left the battle ranks, with a loss of over
two hundred and fifty killed and wounded.

[Illustration: "_Bold Jack Crawford nailed the colours to the mast._"
Page 169.]

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