“They fired grape-shot at us, which did much damage to the sails, and broke one of the irons which support the boarding net, and wounded some of our men. Only one was killed in the engagement, a man named Reeves, from Lichfield it is thought, who was a brave and good sailor. He was shot through the thigh and breast, and must have been killed instantaneous, for he did not look agonized. This is the first man I have seen killed. At about twelve o’clock the five gun-boats retired, having had more than they expected; the breeze was still light, and they returned, but we think not all of them, to Tarifa.”[[4]]
[4]. This quotation is made, with the kind permission of the editor of the Cornhill Magazine, from an article which appeared therein in May 1887, entitled “From a Diary of 1806.”
Now this somewhat rambling account, the narrative of a plain merchant, not much skilled in the use of his pen, telling us exactly what struck him, too manly to be ashamed of owning himself to have been both sea-sick and frightened, yet showing us in his modest way that he was usefully employed in helping those who did the actual fighting, this straightforward, sensible story puts the whole scene before us more clearly than a thousand official reports. Little David running upstairs “singing merry,” not old enough to keep his tears back when the splinter wounded him on the forehead, forms a picture too vivid to be forgotten. Captain Anthony’s hearty laugh when his passenger thought himself shot, helps us to realize the joviality with which our grandfathers went into action, too confident in themselves to trouble their heads about the issue, even when fighting against six enemies at once.
The Postmaster General did not think much of this action, ranking it somewhat low among the achievements of the Packets chiefly because it was a running fight. One might have supposed that the sinking of one of the gun-boats, together with the skill in manœuvring exhibited by Captain Anthony in repelling the other five, entitled him to a considerable share of credit. He gained more however for his conduct nearly a year later, namely on July 2nd, 1807.
On that date the “Cornwallis” was chased by a lugger about thirty leagues off Brest. The lugger came on under English colours; but Captain Anthony, finding that she made no answer to the private signal, instantly cleared his decks, called his men to their stations, served out cutlasses and pistols, and waited for the lugger with his guns ready shotted.
It was well that he had sailed the seas long enough to be cautious; for the lugger, having flown her English colours until she came within half pistol shot distance, suddenly hauled them down, and ran up the Spanish flag at the mizzen, and the French ensign, topped with a red flag, the signal of no quarter, at the main. In the same moment, without hail or summoning gun, a broadside roared out, followed by a rattling volley of small arms, by which her commander doubtless thought to shake the nerve of the Falmouth men, and by one sudden blow to win an opportunity of boarding.
He was mistaken in his men, and he had forgotten the “Cornwallis’” stern guns. Her broadside came crashing into him before the smoke of the first discharges had blown away, and Captain Anthony was perfectly awake to the manœuvre his enemy was contemplating. He saw the lugger making sail; he understood full well that she was bearing down to grapple him on the starboard quarter. His couple of 12–pounder carronades were double-shotted, and as the lugger sheered up under the stern of the “Cornwallis” she got such a storm of grape and canister along her decks as took the heart out of her for boarding; while as she fell away in some confusion the Packet’s starboard guns came to bear, and were discharged at short range with terrible effect.
This was the decisive moment of the action, and the event was never afterwards doubtful, though the fight was by no means over. The lugger sheered off to a safer distance, and commenced a heavy cannonade which did much injury to the “Cornwallis,” dismounting one of the stern guns which had served her so well, wounding three men seriously, and almost crippling her in sails and rigging. The enemy, however, either suffered more, or did not realize how effective her fire had been; for she showed no inclination to come to close quarters again, and after about an hour hauled off, and stood away to the southward, leaving the Packetsmen to enjoy their triumph.
Somewhat earlier than this, namely on May 28th, 1807, the “Duke of Marlborough” was in the neighbourhood of Barbados, when the look-out at her masthead reported a schooner in sight running before the wind a few miles away to the southward. Captain Bull was not on board, and the Packet was in charge of Mr. James, the master, an officer whose growing reputation both as a navigator and in action already marked him as destined for an independent command. Mr. James was well aware of the great probability that any strange vessel encountered in that situation was an enemy; and he made his preparations without loss of time. It was half-past four in the afternoon when the schooner was sighted. By five o’clock the decks were cleared, the boarding nettings triced up, the arms served out, the mail brought on deck, the guns loaded, and the men were at their quarters, cheerful and confident.
Hardly were these arrangements completed when the schooner tacked and made all sail in chase. At 10.15 P.M. she came up astern and fired the first shot, to which the Cornishmen replied with their full broadside. On this the action became general, and the two vessels pounded each other for three-quarters of an hour at close range without serious damage on either side.