The British vessels, off to leeward, crowded on all sail. In the white-caps there was very little sea, for the fitful wind was new and off the land.
It looked as if the Essex were going to escape; but just as she rounded the point, the muzzles of her guns almost in the water, another link in the chain of unfortunate circumstances was forged; there was a crash, and the main-topmast went by the board, broken short above the top. The men who were then lying out upon the yards went down with the great spar over the side, and all were drowned. The Essex brought up as if she had struck a shoal.
The English ships were now coming fast. Porter had no alternative but to endeavor to get back to the protection of the port; but he could not reach his former anchorage, hampered as he was by the wreckage at his side. Therefore he made secure all sail upon his foremast and ran for shore, anchoring there about a pistol-shot distance from the beach, and three-quarters of a mile to leeward of the battery on the east side of the harbor. Here he worked industriously to clear his decks and cut away the tangled wreckage, but in the midst of this the crew of the Essex saw that they were not to be unmolested.
Hillyar had determined to take advantage of the moment the Phoebe and Cherub came down before the breeze, which was now dying away, and, breaking all precedent of neutrality, they opened up their broadsides upon their almost helpless antagonist. It was nearly four o’clock when the first gun was fired.
Porter, seeing that the action was going to begin, endeavored to get a spring upon his cable, and bring a broadside to bear upon the British ships. He hoisted every flag he had, at every point where he could reeve a halyard, awaiting quietly the nearer onslaught, and praying for close quarters.
The Phoebe placed herself under the stern, and the Cherub on his starboard bow; but so hot was the Essex’s answer to the latter that she bore up and ran under his stern also; and now followed such slaughter as has hardly been equalled in naval warfare. From their positions they raked the hull of the Essex through and through, cutting long gashes in her sides, and aiming with precision, as if they were firing for practice at a helpless hull. Against all this destructive cannonade Porter could only bring to bear three long 12-pounders, which he had run out of the stern ports and the cabin-windows, and well were they manned and served.
Two or three times did he manage to get a spring upon his cable, and had half turned his broadside towards the enemy, but every time was the hawser shot away, and the poor ship drifted back to her almost defenceless position. Some of the round shot and whole charges of grape from the Phoebe’s guns swept the Essex’s decks from stern-post to the heel of her bowsprit. Whole crews were slaughtered as they worked the few guns able to be brought to bear; but as fast as the men were shot or blown away their places were filled by others. At one gun fifteen men were killed, and as many wounded and carried below.
At this point in the combat Hillyar signalled the Cherub, and they both drew off to repair their damages, that were far from slight.
Again in a few minutes they came down before the wind, and took a new position athwart the Essex’s bows. To this fire Porter could not bring a single gun to answer. Again the decks of the Essex were red with blood; there had been no time to move the wounded, and the dead lay huddled about in all directions. Now the shots even entered the cockpit, and the men were killed as they lay on the operating-tables under the doctor’s knife. To add to the horror, the Essex had caught on fire forward and aft.
Still undismayed, Porter determined to close with the enemy. The only sail that could be hoisted, owing to the mangled condition of the rigging, was the flying-jib. He raised this, cut his cable, and ran down on both ships, with the intention of boarding the Phoebe if possible.