“I have, sir,” replied he; “and I shall not forget the conversation.”
I turned forward. Swinburne had made his retreat the moment that he heard the voice of the captain. “How many sails are there in sight, sir?” inquired the captain.
“One hundred and sixty-three, sir,” replied I.
“Signal to convoy to close from the Acasta,” reported the midshipman of the watch.
We repeated it, and the captain descended to his cabin. We were then running about four miles an hour, the water very smooth, and Anholt lighthouse hardly visible on deck, bearing N.N.W. about twenty miles. In fact, we were near the entrance of the Sound, which, the reader may be aware, is a narrow passage leading into the Baltic Sea.
My watch was nearly out, when the midshipman who was looking round with his glass on the Copenhagen side, reported three gun-boats, sweeping out from behind a point. I examined them, and went down to report them to the captain. When I came on deck, more were reported, until we counted ten, two of them large vessels, called praams. The captain now came on deck, and I reported them. We made the signal of enemy in sight, to the Acasta, which was answered. They divided—six of them pulling along shore towards the convoy in the rear, and four coming out right for the brig. The Acasta now made the signal for “Boats manned and armed to be held in readiness.” We hoisted out our pinnace, and lowered down our cutters—the other men-of-war doing the same. In about a quarter of an hour, the gun-boats opened their fire with their long thirty-two pounders, and their first shot went right through the hull of the brig, just abaft the fore-bits; fortunately, no one was hurt. I turned round to look at the captain; he was as white as a sheet. He caught my eye, and turned aft, when he was met by Swinburne’s eye, steadily fixed upon him. He then walked to the other side of the deck. Another shot ploughed up the water close to us, rose, and came through the hammock-netting, tearing out two of the hammocks, and throwing them on the quarter-deck, when the Acasta hoisted out pennants, and made the signal to send our pinnace and cutter to the assistance of vessels astern. The signal was also made to the Isis and Reindeer. I reported the signal, and inquired who was to take the command.
“You, Mr Simple, will take the pinnace, and order Mr Swinburne into the cutter.”
“Mr Swinburne, sir!” replied I; “the brig will, in all probability, be in action soon, and his services as a gunner will be required.”
“Well, then, Mr Hilton may go. Beat to quarters. Where is Mr Webster?” The second lieutenant was close to us, and he was ordered to take the duty during my absence.
I jumped into the pinnace, and shoved off; ten other boats from the Acasta and the other men-of-war were pulling in the same direction, and I joined them. The gun-boats had now opened fire upon the convoy astern, and were sweeping out to capture them, dividing themselves into two parties, and pulling towards different portions of the convoy. In half-an-hour we were within gun-shot of the nearest, which directed its fire at us; but the lieutenant of the Acasta, who commanded the detachment, ordered us to lie on our oars for a minute, while he divided his force in three divisions, of four boats each, with instructions that we should each oppose a division of two gun-boats.