Captain Boyle replied that he had admired her appearance greatly.
The Portuguese officer then went on to say that the three other vessels ahead were English, and were under the protection of the commander of his brig.
“By what right?” answered the captain of the Comet. “This is an American cruiser. We are on the high seas, the highway of all nations, and surely it belongs to America as much as to the King of Great Britain or the King of Portugal.”
The officer upon this asked to see the Comet’s authority from her government. This Captain Boyle courteously showed to him. After reading the papers carefully, the officer began to advise the American captain in a manner that provoked the following reply: “I told him,” writes Boyle, in the log-book of the Comet, “that I was determined to exercise the authority I had, and capture those vessels if I could. He said that he should be sorry if anything disagreeable took place; that they were ordered to protect them, and should do so. I answered him that I should equally feel regret that anything disagreeable should occur; that if it did he would be the aggressor, as I did not intend to fire upon him first; that if he did attempt to oppose me or to fire upon me when trying to take those English vessels, we must try our respective strengths, as I was well prepared for such an event and should not shrink from it. He then informed me that those vessels were armed and very strong. I told him that I valued their strength but little, and would very soon put it to the test.”
What a fine old fighter this Baltimore captain must have been! Here were four vessels, each of the three smaller ones as large as his own, and one nearly twice as large, against him; the Portuguese mounting twenty guns, the English ship fourteen, and the smaller brigs ten guns apiece. Fifty-four guns against fourteen. But the American was undaunted, and the Portuguese lieutenant rowed back to his ship.
Shortly afterwards the brig hailed again, asking Captain Boyle to lower his boat and come on board.
“It is growing too dark!” shouted Captain Boyle through his speaking-trumpet, and he squared his yards and made all sail for the nearest English vessel—the big ship.
So fast a sailer was the Comet and so quick in stays that she could shuttle back and forth through the little fleet in a manner that, to say the least, must have been confusing to the others. The moon was now coming out bright as the sun went down; but little of daylight was left.
The Comet came up handily with the English ship (the brigs were sailing close by), and Boyle ordered her to back her main-topsail or he would fire a broadside into her. So great was the headway of the privateer, however, that she shot past, and had to luff about the other’s bows, Boyle again hailing, and saying he was coming down on the other side.
The man-of-war brig had crowded on all sail, and was hard after the American; but the latter now let drive her broadside at the ship and one of her smaller consorts, tacked quickly, and then found the man-of-war close alongside. The Portuguese, disregarding the policy of “minding one’s own business,” opened up her broadside upon the American. The Comet returned this with tremendous effect, and, tacking, again let go her starboard battery at the third Englishman, who was now closing in. Nothing but bad gunnery and good sailing must have saved the daring little vessel at this moment. But she loaded and fired, and the enemy appeared to be confused and frightened. The Comet stuck close to the English vessels, letting go whole broadsides into them at point-blank distance, and firing at the man-of-war whenever she came in range. The British vessels separated at last to give their “protector” a better chance, but it availed them very little. By the time the Portuguese was ready to fire the Comet had spun about on her heel and was out of danger. It was the clever boxer in a crowd of clumsy bumpkins. At eleven o’clock the big ship surrendered, being cut almost to pieces and quite unmanageable. It was broad moonlight; but the moon would soon go down, and in the ensuing darkness Captain Boyle feared the others might escape him. As soon as the ship hauled down her colors he gave the first brig a broadside that ripped her bulwarks and cut away her running-gear. Immediately down came her flag, and she surrendered also. She proved to be the Bowes, of Liverpool.