The Virginie and Aurora made an excellent passage across the Atlantic. They stood to the northward until the Trades were cleared, when they fell in with fresh westerly winds, which carried them all the way across; and, as the weather was fine, they had no difficulty in keeping each other in sight during the whole passage, the two craft regulating their spread of canvas so that neither should outsail the other.
The passage was consequently an uneventful one, nothing worthy of note occurring until they were in the chops of the Channel. Then, indeed, an adventure befell them, which proved George to have been wise in his determination that the two vessels should make the voyage in company.
It was the last week in October. They had just struck soundings, when the two craft ran into a dense, raw fog, which compelled all hands to seek warmth and comfort in their thickest jackets, and necessitated, as a matter of prudence, the immediate shortening of sail.
The fog lasted a couple of hours, and when it cleared up the Aurora was discovered about two miles astern of the brig, and a large ship was at the same moment made out directly ahead. The stranger was hove-to under single-reefed topsails, with her head to the northward, her topsail-yards being just visible from the deck. The fact of her being hove-to in such a position seemed to point to the conclusion that she was a man-o’-war, and this supposition was confirmed when George took a look at her through his glass from the fore-topgallant-yard. She was a frigate, and French apparently, from the cut of her canvas; but of course it was quite possible that she might be in English hands, the English often taking French prizes into their own navy, and sending them to sea again with little or no alteration. Still, George thought it best to be on the safe side, and he accordingly at once ordered the Virginie to clear for action, the Aurora being signalled to do the same, his intention being to attack the frigate, if an enemy, since, as far as he could make out, she carried only twenty-four guns.
In the meantime, however, the brig and the barque had been discovered by the frigate, which at once made sail, and manoeuvred in such a manner as to intercept them.
Bowen, on the other hand, guessing at once what was in the wind, crowded sail upon the Aurora, and soon recovered his position alongside the Virginie, approaching the latter vessel within hailing distance, in order the better to concert plans for the possible coming engagement. These were soon arranged, but not before it had become pretty evident, from the comparatively clumsy handling of the stranger, that she was indeed French. Their doubts, such as they were, were set at rest when the frigate had approached within a mile of them, by her hoisting a tricolour at her gaff-end, and soon afterwards she sent a shot across their fore-foot as a polite intimation that they would oblige her by heaving-to.
They, however, did nothing of the kind; a piece of discourtesy which so preyed upon the French captain’s mind that, without more ado, he bore down upon them, and opened fire from his starboard broadside.
The three ships at that moment formed the three angles of a nearly equilateral triangle, the sides of which measured each about a quarter of a mile; the Virginie and the Aurora occupying, as it were, the two ends of the base, and the Frenchman being at the apex. This allowed both English ships to attack their enemy on the same side—the starboard—and compelled the Frenchman to fight them both with only half his battery. He soon saw how great a disadvantage he laboured under by this arrangement, and did all he could to get between them. But it was all to no purpose; George and Bowen were fully as wide-awake as he was, and they successfully defeated every effort of his in this direction, principally, it must be confessed, by some lucky shooting on their part, whereby the Frenchman’s spars and rigging were so cut up that the craft soon became practically unmanageable. At length, after a brisk fight of about twenty minutes, the Frenchman’s fore and main-topmasts both went simultaneously over the side, the frigate luffed into the wind, and obstinately remained there, and she was at George’s mercy. The Virginie at once made sail and took up a position across the enemy’s bows, the Aurora placed herself across his stern, and from these two advantageous positions a raking fire was opened, which, in less than five minutes, caused the Frenchman to haul down his flag and surrender.
The prize—which proved to be the twenty-four-gun frigate Cigne—was at once taken possession of by boats from both the Virginie and the Aurora, her crew secured, and her damages repaired; and about midnight the three vessels made sail in company, arriving without further adventure at Spithead on the day but one following.