Our skipper was standing just abaft the main-rigging, conning the ship, with one hand on the topmast backstay all ready for a spring, while he signalled the helmsman with the other. Sennitt was forward, also ready for the rush; while Mr Clewline, who with a dozen hands was to remain on board and take care of the ship, was in the waist. The men stood at their guns, with their cutlasses drawn, the captains with the trigger-lines in their hands, ready to fire at the instant of collision. Harvey was forward with Mr Sennitt; while little Markham and I stood by to follow in the skipper’s wake.
As the frigate drew up abreast of us, her captain sprang into the mizen rigging and hailed through a speaking-trumpet, “Mais, Monsieur le capitaine, why you shall not haul down votre drapeau; Vous avez se rendre, n’est pas?”
Captain Brisac raised his hand to his mouth as though to reply; waving it at the same time for the helmsman to sheer us alongside; the men with the grappling irons being crouched under the bulwarks all ready to heave; and all hands fore and aft straining forward like hounds in leash, waiting breathlessly for the coming shock.
“What ship is that?” hailed the skipper; not that he wanted particularly to know, just at that moment; he hoped to find out for himself very shortly; but the question served to fill up time until the moment for action should arrive.
“‘L’Audacieuse;’ frégate de —,” began the French captain; when an officer sprang into the rigging beside him, and said something in an excited manner, pointing at us and gesticulating with frightful vehemence.
In the meantime our helmsman, touching the wheel as daintily as though we had been sailing a match, brought us alongside so cleverly that the two ships touched with a shock which was barely perceptible, just enough in fact “to swear by,” as the gunner remarked.
“Heave!” shouted Sennitt to the men with the grappling irons, “Fire!” roared the skipper; and away went our double broadside crash into the Frenchman, eliciting such a chorus of shrieks and yells as might lead one to suppose that Pandemonium had broken loose. Three or four of the frigate’s guns replied: and there was an ominous crashing among our spars; but no one paused to ascertain the extent of the damage; and our men had sprung like tigers into the frigate’s rigging almost before our own guns had exploded; they were, therefore, so far safe. Captain Brisac made a dash at the frigate’s mizen rigging while giving the word to fire; with Markham and myself close upon his heels; but before he had fairly got a hold of the ratlines a sponge was thrust out of one of the upper-deck ports, catching him in the face, and inflicting such a blow that he fell back upon us unfortunate mids, and would have gone down between the two ships had we not caught him unceremoniously by the collar and steadied him on his feet again.
The sponge was the reverse of clean, and the blow had been delivered with such hearty good-will just between the eyes that our venerated commander’s claret was very effectually tapped; he presented therefore a somewhat alarming spectacle as he flung himself in upon the Frenchman’s deck; his face black from contact with the foul sponge, the dingy colour being pleasantly relieved by bold streaks and dashes of crimson.
“Mille diables!” ejaculated the astonished French captain, as this apparition appeared before him—he having jumped down on deck again as we ranged alongside; and he placed himself on guard in the most approved fashion. Captain Brisac had no more knowledge of sword-play than he had of flying, a circumstance which often proved exceedingly embarrassing—to his adversaries, for he had a rough-and-ready way of handling his weapon which, if not so scientific, was equally as effective as the utmost refinements of the thoroughly accomplished swordsman. Instead therefore of engaging, as his antagonist evidently expected, he simply bore down the guard by sheer strength of wrist, and rushing in upon his astounded adversary, delivered a blow with his left hand straight from the shoulder, which laid the unhappy Frenchman senseless upon his own deck. “Hurrah, lads!” he shouted; “give it them right and left; drive the rascals below or overboard, and push forward to meet Mr Sennitt.” The division which had boarded with us, abaft, replied with a cheer, which was responded to by Sennitt’s party forward; and away we went, driving the French along the deck before us until they were all huddled up amidships between the two parties of boarders: and there they made a most determined stand.
And now ensued a fierce and sanguinary hand-to-hand conflict; our men still pressing impetuously forward; and the French opposing us with a resolution which their previous conduct had given us no reason whatever to expect, obstinately contesting with us every inch of the deck, and, if they yielded for a moment, renewing the defence more actively than ever; cutlasses and pikes were used with savage freedom; and the dead and wounded encumbered the decks until they became almost impassable.