Marmaduke Merry: A Tale of Naval Adventures in Bygone Days

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“Down, with your faces on the deck, all of you, my lads,” shouted the captain, the order being repeated by the other officers. I observed, however, that both he and Mr Lukyn stood upright. The expected shower came, the enemy passing within pistol shot. I looked up anxiously to ascertain if either of my superiors was hurt. There they stood as calm as before, but Mr Lukyn’s hat had been knocked off, and two bullets had passed through the sleeve of his coat.

“That was a narrow shave,” observed the captain, as Mr Lukyn stooped down and picked up his hat. Had the men been standing up, great numbers, probably, would have been killed or wounded. The enemy after this hauled up on the larboard tack, and was about to pour her starboard broadside into us, when, our crew springing to their feet, our sails were thrown back, and the French frigate’s larboard bow came directly on to our starboard quarter. As she did so, the boatswain with his mates sprang aft, and in a moment it seemed that the enemy’s bowsprit, or rather jib-boom, was lashed to our mizen-rigging, in spite of a heavy rattling fire of musketry, kept up on them by the French marines on their forecastle. A body of our marines came aft to reply to them, and numbers were dropping on both sides. While this was going forward, I saw a French officer walking along the bowsprit with a musket in his hand. He rested it on the stay, and was taking a deliberate aim at Captain Collyer, who stood, not observing this, encouraging the men to work the after guns. At that instant a marine who had just loaded his musket was shot dead. I seized it as he fell, and in the impulse of the moment, dropping on my knee, raised it to my shoulder and fired at the Frenchman on the bowsprit who at the same time fired. A ball passed through the captain’s hat—he turned his head and observed that I had just fired, and saw also the Frenchman falling headlong into the water.

“Thank you, Mr Merry, you have saved my life,” he said, turning a look of approval on me; but there was no time for more. Everything I have described passed like a flash of lightning. All was now smoke and noise, the men straining at the gun-tackles, sponging and loading; the marines firing and stooping down, as they had been ordered, to load, to avoid the bullets of the French marines who were so much above them. Meantime the French had been mustering on deck, and suddenly appearing on their forecastle, they rushed along the bowsprit, and were leaping down on our hammock nettings, the headmost reaching the deck.

“Boarders, repel boarders!” shouted Mr Bryan; and he with one or two mates, followed by Jonathan Johnson, with his doughty cutlass, hurried aft to meet them. What had become of the captain and Mr Lukyn I could not tell. Fierce was the encounter, for the French seamen fought desperately, and their marines kept blazing away faster than ever. Mr Bryan and the French officer leading the boarders met,—their blades flashed rapidly for a few seconds, and the Frenchman fell mortally wounded. Mr Johnson was in his glory: the first time he led on his followers, however, the Frenchmen withstood him for some seconds, and, more of them pouring down on the deck, he was driven back a foot or two, but it was only for a moment. With a loud shout, he made a furious dash at the boarders: Mr Bryan, with several mates and midshipmen, of whom I was one, seconded by our gallant purser, who with a brace of pistols in his belt and a sharp cutlass in his hand, instead of remaining below, had come on deck to share the danger and aid in the fight; and of the whole number of the enemy who had reached the deck of the Doris, not one quarter escaped on board their own ship unwounded, and very nearly half were killed outright, or were taken prisoners. We, however, did not get off scathless. The enemy still continued to annoy us with their foremost guns; while the shot from their muskets rattled thickly round our heads, our main royal-mast and main-topsail yard had been shot away, and the gaff was so severely wounded, that when the Frenchmen fell aboard us, it dropped over his deck. At this moment we saw some of the crew tear our ensign from the gaff and carry it aft as a trophy; there was not a man in our ship who would not have gladly rushed aboard the enemy to recover it.

“It will never do to be without a flag,” said I to Grey. “I propose we go aloft and nail a couple to the mast.”

“With all my heart,” he answered; and he getting a boat’s ensign and I a union-jack from the signal locker, we ran aloft with them before any one saw what we were about. We agreed, however, that they would look best at each end of the cross-jack, and accordingly, quick as lightning, we lashed them there. The Frenchmen might certainly have picked us off, but, as many of their nation have much chivalry in their composition, when they saw that we were young midshipmen, and what we were about, I suspect refrained from firing. At all events, we accomplished our dangerous exploit, and returned on deck. Scarcely had we reached it, and stood amid the shower of bullets whistling along it, than, to my great sorrow, I saw Grey fall; he uttered no cry; I ran towards him to lift him up; he said that he was not badly hurt, but he fainted, and Mr Bryan ordered him at once to be carried below. Directly afterwards Mr Bryan fell; he, however, raised himself on his arm, and with the help of two seamen, in a short time stood up, and refused to leave the deck. Mr Collman, our brave purser, tried to persuade him to go below.

“Let the surgeon look to you, and if he thinks you are fit you can return.”

“No, no; thank you, Collman,” he answered. “I don’t know what may happen while I’m away. Time enough to go to the doctor when we’ve thrashed the Frenchmen.”

It was my duty, as I said, to stay by the first-lieutenant. I was inquiring for him, when I saw a number of the French marines peppering away at the after ports in the captain’s cabin. I instantly bethought me that the captain and Mr Lukyn must be there, and accordingly hurried to the main-deck.

Our captain had, without asking leave of the dock yard authorities, cut two ports in his cabin on each side next the quarter, in readiness for the very contingency which had now occurred. Our carpenter had, however, stupidly forgotten to drive in ring bolts to work the guns, while the gunner had not prepared tackles of sufficient length to haul the aftermost guns from the side to the new ports.