“Stiff work, sir,” said the Captain, eyeing the formidable array with its communications to the land secured at either end.
“Might be worse, Berry,” replied the Admiral, looking at them with the eye of a seaman determined on attack. And as ideas began to chase through his eager and penetrating mind, he jerked out, “They can’t get away anyhow, they’re anchored,—and where there’s room for an enemy’s ship to swing there is room for one of ours to anchor.”
“Are you going to force the passage, sir, and take them on the inside?”
“Of course: they’re so strongly secured on the outside that the guns won’t be manned on the inside. If I know the French they won’t even be cleared for action, for they didn’t expect us, Berry. You can wager that they felt sure of having till to-morrow, even after they saw us coming in. Who leads, Berry?”
“The Goliath.”
“Foley won’t want any telling. It was this plan which took his imagination so that night, in case we had an enemy supported by the shore. See, there he goes, brave fellow!” he shouted, as Foley, coming up to the leading French vessel, the Guerrier, and receiving her fire at considerable disadvantage while half her men were aloft preparing to furl sail, swung round her, and to the vast astonishment of her company tried to bring up on her inner side. In this he failed, in spite of all his precautions: the anchor hung, and he found himself on the inner quarter of the Conquérant, the second ship. The Zealous, which was close behind him, anchored abreast of the Guerrier; and the Orion, Theseus, and Audacious, the next three ships, followed them inside; the Audacious bringing up on the bow of the Conquérant; the Theseus abreast of the Spartiate, but dividing her fire between the hapless Conquérant and the Aquilon; and the Orion dividing hers between the Peuple Souverain and the Franklin.
While they were taking up their positions, and had the best part of their ships’ companies engaged in navigating the ships, they should have been very severely handled by the French. But the Admiral’s instinct was, as ever, correct: the larboard guns which trained on the land were neither manned nor ready. The French, of course, did all they could in the time to reply to the English fire; but their hurried attempts were unavailing, and in three minutes’ time every mast of the Guerrier and Conquérant was overboard, though they were bare sticks without a sail set. We were the sixth ship—you must bear in mind that our fleet at this moment only consisted of ten ships, because the Alexander and Swiftsure were away to leeward, and the Culloden away to windward, and the Leander, which was but a fifty-gun ship, was a long way behind. I suppose the Admiral had chosen this place, sixth in the line, because it was doubtful whether the vessel in this place should follow the other five or lead on the outside. You can imagine that we, who had never seen a shot fired from the ship, were in a fine state of excitement. I suppose I must have winced as a round shot went through the mizzen-stay close to where I was in attendance on the Admiral, for he patted me on the shoulder and said to me, “How do you like that music?” he having on his own face his fighting smile of serene superiority. Indeed, he had not long since come up from his dinner, which was being served when we came into range of the French guns. We did not reply for some time: we had to pay so much attention to navigating; and I own that, though I became as indifferent to fire as becomes an English sailor, I was a little startled at finding the shot whizzing over us steadily when I followed the Admiral up on deck. He had been good-naturedly allowing me to eat at his table.
“Never you mind, youngster,” he said, as he patted me. “D’ye know that Charles XII. ran away from the first shot he heard, though afterwards called the Great because of his bravery. I therefore hope much of you in future.”
This put me on my mettle, especially as Will was there with his proud fair face flushed with the fighting fever, and helping to carry a man, who was pouring out blood, to the companion; for, mind you, it is one thing to have round shot coming close enough to hear them whistle, and another thing to see a man, who has been your shipmate for months, bleeding to death in your arms in the first quarter of an hour of your first battle.
“Where shall I lay the ship, sir?” asked the Captain.