Barry started. The colors be struck! no such thought had entered his mind. The colors be struck! "No!" said he; "if the ship can't be fought without me, carry me at once on deck." The lieutenant, if ashamed, was also rëanimated. He repaired on deck, went round among the crew, and made known Barry's courage and determination. There was but one response among the brave tars. They decided to "stick to him manfully." And they did. From that moment "the ship was fought"—and fought without the presence of Barry. But no sooner was his wound dressed, than he insisted on being aided in ascending to the deck; before reaching it, however, the enemy had struck. Brave seamen! brave commander!
The Alliance had eleven killed during the action, and twenty-one wounded. Among the latter, were several officers. She had suffered terribly in her spars and rigging. The loss of the enemy was eleven killed and thirty wounded.
7. CONGRESS AND SAVAGE.
The Savage was a British sloop, carrying twenty guns and about one hundred and fifty men. In September, 1781, while on a cruise along the Southern coast of the United States, she entered the Potomac, and plundered the estate of Washington, then in another quarter, commanding the American army. It was an expedition unworthy a high-minded and honorable officer, and a well-merited rebuke was soon after meted out to him.
On leaving the Potomac, the Savage fell in with the American privateer Congress, Captain Geddes, off Charleston. The vessels were of the same force. On board the Congress, at the time, was Major McLane, a distinguished American officer, who with a part of his command had volunteered to serve as marines. As the crew of the Savage were all seamen, she had decidedly the advantage, in respect to the Congress, whose crew, in part, were landsmen, unacquainted with marine warfare.
The vessels were now within cannon distance. The Congress commenced by firing her bow-chasers. This was at half-past ten in the morning. At eleven, they had approximated so near each other, that the landsmen employed their musketry, and with effect. A sharp and destructive cannonade followed on both sides.
At the commencement of the engagement, the advantage lay with the Savage. Her position being on the Congress' bows, was favorable for raking. But a closer engagement followed, and the tide turned in favor of the privateer. So well did she manœuvre, so promptly, so dextrously, that she soon disabled her enemy. At the expiration of an hour, the braces and bowlines of the Savage were shot away. Not a rope was left by which to trim the sails. The musketry of the Americans had cleared her decks. In this situation, it was deemed impossible that she could much longer continue the contest. Indeed, she was already nearly a wreck—her sails, rigging, and yards were so shattered as to forbid her changing her position, but with the greatest difficulty. She would not, however, surrender, but rëcommenced a vigorous cannonade. Again her quarter-deck and forecastle were cleared by the fatal musketry of the American landsmen. Three guns on her main deck were rendered useless. The vessels were now so near each other, that the fire from the guns scorched the men opposed to them in the other. At length, the mizen-mast of the Savage was shot away. At this instant, the boatswain of the Savage appeared forward, with his hat off, calling for quarter. But it was half an hour before the crew of the Congress could board her, by reason of the loss of their boats. But, on reaching her, she was found to be scarcely more than a wreck. Her decks were covered with blood, and killed and wounded men.
The Congress had thirty men killed and wounded. The Savage had twenty-three killed and thirty-one wounded. Among the latter, was her commander, Captain Sterling.
The marine service often furnished examples of great heroism and most patriotic endurance. Such an instance occurred on board the Congress. After the action terminated, Major McLane went forward to ascertain what had become of his sergeant, Thomas. He found the poor fellow lying on his back in the netting, near the foot of the bowsprit, with his musket loaded, but both legs broken. "Poor fellow!" thought the major, as he beheld him; "poor fellow!" But the poor fellow began huzzaing lustily for the victory achieved; and followed his exulting and even vociferous huzzas by a corresponding exclamation addressed to his major: "Well, major, if they have broken my legs, my hands and my heart are still whole."
Sergeant Thomas was terribly wounded, but the kind-hearted major did not neglect him. The best care was taken of him; ultimately, he recovered; and, nothing deterred by the painful experience he had had of the sometimes ill-fortune of war, he entered on board the Hyder Ali, commanded by Captain Barney.