Arriving at length at Marseilles, he found that the grain-ships had turned up safely, which was really a great triumph; but the wily merchants were too cunning for the simple seaman. There was, it appears, a clause in the agreement to the effect that Cassard should bring in the convoy—it is easy to imagine how such a document would be worded—and, because he had not personally conducted the ships into port, the merchants refused to pay him the stipulated sum for his services! He appealed, but the merchants had too many friends at court; so he found himself some £10,000 out of pocket in the long run, as a reward for averting a famine by his skill and courage.
He was destined, however, to repeat the exploit. In June 1709 a huge fleet of eighty-four merchant vessels, under convoy of six men-of-war, was despatched to Smyrna to bring back grain. The squadron consisted of the Teméraire, 60, Toulouse, 60, Stendard, 50, Fleuron, 50, Hirondelle, 36, and Vestale, 36, under the command of M. de Feuquières. Reaching Smyrna in safety, they sailed in October on the return voyage, with their precious freight; but De Feuquières, learning that a strong English squadron was watching for him in the Gulf of Genoa, put into Syracuse, in Sicily; and sent the Toulouse to Marseilles for additional force.
The people of Marseilles shamelessly appealed to Cassard, whom they had treated so scurvily; he refused at first to have anything to do with it. However, he was eventually placed in command of a little squadron, consisting of the Parfait, 70, with his flag; the Toulouse, Captain De Lambert; Serieux, 60, Captain De l'Aigle; and Phœnix, 56, Captain Du Haies.
With a fair wind, on November 8th he sailed for Syracuse, according to Mr. Norman, arriving there on the evening of the following day—a feat which may be safely put down as practically impossible, the distance being over 650 nautical miles, or knots. However, there is no doubt that Cassard arrived off Syracuse one day, and found only two English men-of-war watching for the grain fleet, instead of a strong squadron, as he expected. With these he resolved to deal at once, and bore down upon them.
The two English ships were the Pembroke, 64, Captain Edward Rumsey—not Rumfry, as Mr. Norman calls him, probably from some French document—and the Falcon, 36, Captain Charles Constable, the remainder of the squadron having gone to Mahon, in Corsica, to refit. The Pembroke had apparently had her turn there and returned to her station a few days previously, the Falcon joining her.
When Cassard's squadron hove in sight and Captain Rumsey, having failed to receive from them the acknowledgment of the private signal, realised that he was in for a serious business, he signalled the Falcon to shorten sail, and, running up alongside her, he asked Captain Constable what he made of the strangers, to which the latter replied that one of them was a very big ship, but he could not make much of the others.
"Shall we fight them?" shouted Rumsey through his speaking-trumpet. "Just as you please, sir!" bawled Constable. "That's no answer," rejoined Rumsey. "With all my heart," said Constable, and they cleared for action—none too soon, for the French ships, bringing up a stronger breeze with them, were already almost within gunshot.
Cassard had signalled Feuquières to weigh and convoy the grain-ships out while he engaged the two English ships. Rumsey, realising that he was imperatively called upon to prevent, or at least to retard their escape, had probably made up his mind before he spoke to Constable. Leaving only two ships there was a blunder, and he really had no choice about fighting, for he could not well have escaped.
The action which ensued was one of the most stubborn sea-fights on record. Cassard attacked with three ships, the Parfait ranging alongside the Falcon, while the Serieux and Phœnix tackled the Pembroke. If the Frenchmen expected an easy conquest of the Falcon by the huge 70-gun ship they were very much in error. With her crew of 740 men the Parfait was run alongside, and her bowsprit lashed to the fore-rigging of the Falcon. Instantly Constable turned the tables on the foe, rushing on board at the head of one hundred men. They were repulsed, with heavy losses on both sides, and before Cassard could return the compliment the two ships fell apart. The Falcon's flight was soon stayed by the heavy fire of the French ship, which brought down spars and cut rigging extensively, and once more Cassard laid her on board. His first attack was repelled by the indomitable Constable and his men; but the price was too heavy: something like 120 men had been killed or desperately wounded already, and Constable, taking counsel with his officers, was forced to the conclusion that it was useless to sacrifice more lives, and so hauled down his colours; he had been badly wounded in the shoulder, but kept his place on deck. According to Captain Schomberg, in his "Naval Chronology," there were only sixteen men of the Falcon's crew able to stand at their quarters when she surrendered.
Meanwhile, the Pembroke and the other two ships were hammering each other at close range, and much damage resulted on both sides. After an hour and a half of fighting Captain Rumsey, who had behaved splendidly, was killed, and Barkley, the first lieutenant, came on deck and took his place. For two hours after the captain's death the unequal conflict was maintained: Cassard came down and joined the fray after the Falcon was captured, and had a tremendous cannonade with the Pembroke, yardarm to yardarm, while the Serieux pounded her on the other quarter. It could not last; the English ship's mizzen-mast went crashing by the board, her maintopmast followed, her rigging was nearly all cut away, her mainmast wounded and tottering, her decks lumbered with wreckage, which also rendered the ship almost unmanageable, and the crew falling by tens—to hold out longer would be worse than useless, so Barkley and his brother officers agreed, and the colours had to come down.