“Round-shot and bullets came rattling about our heads, but they didn’t stop our way more than would a shower of hail. Away we pulled, maybe a bit faster, to get through them the quicker. In a quarter less no time we were alongside the ship, which mounted six guns, scrambling up her sides, knocking everybody who opposed us on the head—not that all stopped for that, seeing that many leaped into their boats as soon as we gained the deck, and pulled away for the shore. The rest, however, made a tough fight of it before they knocked under. To cut the cables and to let fall the topsails and sheet home was the work of a few moments only, and we were under weigh almost before the enemy had turned the guns of the castle on us.
“The other boats, meantime, divided the barques among them, and, attacking them altogether, drove their crews into the water, and, cutting their cables, made sail after us. We lost only one man killed and two wounded in the whole affair, and carried all four vessels off in safety.
“That’s what we call a cutting-out expedition. There’s nothing we used to like better. They were generally pretty sharp slap-dash affairs; no shilly-shallying, and counting what was dangerous and what was not; but it was pull in, jump aboard, and we were out again with the prizes before the enemy had time to find out what we were about. But that wasn’t what I was going to tell you about.
“Soon after this, our squadron was cruising off the Bay of Naples—not all, by the by, the Espoir had been sent away somewhere, and we had only the Spartan, that was our ship, and the Success. Well, we made out, under weigh in the Bay, two ships, a brig and a cutter. Not many moments had gone by before we had crowded all sail in chase. It was a French squadron we saw, but they didn’t like our looks, so they put about and stood towards Naples, we following them almost up to the Mole. That was on the first of May. The next morning at daylight we saw our friends at anchor, but they seemed in no way inclined to come out and fight us.
“‘Perhaps if they see one of us alone they may come out and take a taste of our quality,’ says our captain; so he sent off the Success to wait for us about eight leagues from the island of Capri, thinking that the Frenchmen would then, without doubt, venture out to attack us.
“In the meantime, the French General who had command at Naples, Prince Murat, had formed a plan to capture us. His French squadron consisted of a 42-gun frigate, the Céres; a 28-gun corvette, the Fama; an 8-gun brig, the Sparvière; and a cutter, mounting 10 guns; but besides these there were seven gunboats at least, each with one long 18-pounder and 40 men. General Murat had also embarked four hundred Swiss troops on board the ships, so that they had altogether 95 guns and 1,400 men, while we had only 38 guns and about 260 men. (Note.) We didn’t mind the odds against us, all we thought of was how we could take the enemy. They made sure, however, it seems, with the great odds in their favour, on the other hand, do ye see, of taking us; but we sung, with some right to sing it, too:—
“Hearts of oak are our ships,
Jolly tars are our men;
We always are ready,
Then steady, boys, steady,
We’ll fight, and we’ll conquer again and again.”
“All we were anxious for was the moment to begin. At last, before sunrise, on the third day after we had first made them out, which, do you see, was the 3rd of May, 1810, we got a slant of wind from the South-east, though it was very light, and we, being well to the southward, stood under easy sail into the Bay of Naples.
“Well, we were keeping a bright look-out for the enemy, and just at daybreak we made them out about six miles ahead, standing out from the Mole of Naples, and just between the island of Capri and the mainland. We were on the starboard tack, and they were on the larboard, or what we now call the port tack, remember.”
“What do you mean by the starboard and port tacks?” asked Digby, who was much interested in the details of the account, and wanted to understand it.