“We’ll have them right enough if they run ashore,” cried one of the men; “there’ll then be fair play maybe.”
“I wish that our captain would only just let us go back and fight them,” exclaimed another; “we’d soon show them that the saucy Liffy hasn’t done barking yet.”
But the Frenchmen seemed to have no intention of running ashore if they could help it. As we got alongside they had come almost within range of our guns. The remainder of the crew and officers stood ready to embark. Just at that moment I recollected that I had come away without my grandfather’s sword, which was hung up in the berth. I sprang on deck and rushed down below to obtain it. Having got it in my hand, I was hurrying out of the berth, when I saw the captain, accompanied by Mr Saunders with the gunner and his crew, just coming aft. At the same time I observed a dense smoke issuing from the fore-hold. They had matches in their hands, with which they had lighted some trains which had been laid leading to the after-part of the ship. I sprang back into the boat, into which the gunner and his crew followed me, the captain’s gig still waiting alongside. Mr Saunders came down and took his seat. The captain stood for some moments gazing along the deck, then, lifting up his hat, he also descended. “Shove off!” I heard him cry out, in a husky voice, just as we were pulling away.
He was the last man to leave the frigate. As he did so several shot came crashing aboard her from the opposite side. We pulled away as fast as we could lay our backs to the oars, for we had a good chance of being hit. The shot dropped round us pretty thickly, but we escaped uninjured. As we looked astern thick wreaths of smoke were issuing from every part of our gallant frigate.
“Her fighting days are over,” I observed.
“Not just yet, sir,—not just yet. Wait a minute and you’ll see,” exclaimed the coxswain.
He was right. Before we landed the flames had reached the guns, and her whole broadside, pointed towards the Frenchmen, went off in rapid succession.
“Hurrah! hurrah!” shouted all the men; “the old girl dies game to the last.”
What damage the guns of our ship effected on the French frigates we could not discover, but they were seen to haul their wind and to stand off as fast as they could from the land. We soon gained the shore, which was as captivating in appearance as any shipwrecked mariner has ever landed on. It seemed like a perfect garden, with churches and planters’ houses peeping out from among the trees, in the midst of the most picturesque scenery. In the centre rose a lofty cone, surrounded by a ruff of trees, below which all was one mass of verdure. We had little time or inclination just then to admire the beauties of nature. The crew having been mustered, none being missing except the poor fellows who were known to have been killed, the wounded were placed on litters formed of sails, and we were set off to march towards Charlestown, the smart little capital of the island, whence Captain Macnamara expected to be able to send intelligence of the disaster to the admiral.
We had gone some distance, and were all feeling hungry and thirsty, when we came in sight of the house of a planter. Our approach was perceived. The master of the mansion came forth, and, addressing Captain Macnamara, insisted on our halting, and taking such refreshment as he could provide. His offer was gladly accepted. As the house wouldn’t hold us all, we youngsters stopped in the shade of of a grove of trees close to it, the captain and gun-room officers being invited inside. The men threw themselves on the ground, in every variety of attitude, waiting for the expected feast. We of the midshipmen’s berth formed a group by ourselves a little way from the men, close to a fountain, which sent up a jet of water into the quivering air. The sight of it alone was calculated to cool us, and we needed cooling, for our march had been hot and fatiguing. Some of the men suffering most from thirst rushed to the fountain, and baled the water into their mouths, or lapped it up like dogs.