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We leave the historian to describe minutely the progress of the fight, and turn to the ship of Anton Lundt. We have already said that this ship was the outermost in the inner harbour, and as the combat deepened, she was exposed to the heavy broadsides of two English seventy-fours.
Anton Lundt started a little, his lip quivered, and his eyes grew lustrous with hidden emotion. 'Ah! exclaimed his messmates, 'your sweetheart and your country no toast can be better than that! Hurrah for Rosine and old Denmark! Anton Lundt dashed the cuff of his sleeve over his eyes, and turned aside with a glowing heart, and a prayer on his lips. On the eventful morning of the 2d April
There was nothing remarkable or striking in his appearance: he was a sun-burnt, hardy-looking young man of about five-and-twenty, and slight rather than muscular in appearance. Like many of his countrymen, his hair was very light flaxen, and his eyes bright blue. His name was Anton Lundt. 'Come, messmate, said one of the sailors, 'what is your toast?
I'm not even looking for him, you know, and just now I don't want to marry anybody." "I only hope when you do, Hermia, that you will commit no imprudence," said Mrs. Westfield severely. Hermia turned quickly. "Auntie, Captain Lundt of the Kaiser Wilhelm used to tell me that there were two ways of going into a fog," she said. "One was to go slow and use the siren.
Just as Anton Lundt emerged, a twenty-four pounder struck the water within a few yards of his back, but ricochetted exactly over his head, merely stunning him for a moment with the spray. He swam straight as an arrow, with the long and powerful strokes of a first-rate swimmer; and occasionally, when the grape and musket shots whistled thick as hailstones around him, he dexterously dived.
No British ministry of the present day would dare or wish to act as did the ruling sachems in the early part of this century. Anton Lundt as true a hero as Nelson himself, although incomparably a humbler one was, as already related, conveyed to the rear of the battery, and his wounds were attended to as well as circumstances would admit.
In the midst of their supplications, the countenance of Anton Lundt was illumined with a gleam of unearthly triumph, and springing half-upright, he tossed his left arm aloft, and in soul-thrilling tones pealed forth his battle-cry of 'Rosine og gamle Danmark hurrah! He then instantly fell back a corpse on the bosom of his betrothed.
In this horrible crisis, Anton Lundt, who was stationed on the quarter-deck, stepped up to the captain, stripped to the waist, all begrimed with powder, and sprinkled with the blood of his messmates, and said: 'I will leap overboard with a line, and swim ashore to that battery, and then you can bend a hawser to the line; and when we have hauled and secured it ashore, you will heave upon it, and get the ship back to her moorings! The captain gazed a moment at the intrepid mariner who made such a chivalrous proposal, and then, without a word of reply, sadly shook his head, and significantly pointed to the water, which was all alive with hissing balls.
The liner acknowledges and recommends inverting the bearings. The Argol answers that she has already done so without effect, and begins to relieve her mind about cheap German enamels for collar-bearings. The Frenchman assents cordially, cries "Courage, mon ami," and switches off. Then lights sink under the curve of the ocean. "That's one of Lundt & Bleamers' boats," says Captain Hodgson.
In the suburb of Oesterbrö, at Copenhagen, is a naval cemetery, and it generally attracts the eye of the stranger, as it most forcibly did our own, by a number of rough, picturesque fragments of unhewn granite, strewn over the mortal remains of the brave men who fell fighting for old Denmark against Nelson. The simple words, 'Anton Lundt, död 2 April 1801, may be seen on one of them.
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