The Missing Ship: The Log of the "Ouzel" Galley

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“Much as the enemy were knocked about, we were already in a pretty bad condition, having all our masts, sails, rigging, and boats considerably damaged, eight or ten men killed, and nearly thirty wounded. If it hadn’t been for the four ships of the enemy still able to manoeuvre, we should have taken or sunk the other three, for they couldn’t manage to get free of each other, while they could only now and then fire a few shot at us. At length, to our infinite satisfaction, we saw the masts of the 64 engaged with the Dreadnought go over the side, while all the line-of-battle ships were evidently tremendously knocked about both in hull and rigging. We had been engaged for upwards of two hours, when the French commodore made a signal to one of the frigates, which, coming up, took him in tow and carried him out of action; and his example was followed by the whole of the French squadron, which made sail for Cape François, then to leeward of them.

“The Edinburgh had been as much damaged in her masts, yards, and sails as we were, and Captain Langdon signalled that she had also several shot in her hull. The Dreadnought, we saw, had lost her main and mizen topmasts, while nearly all her other masts and yards were greatly injured, and she also had received many shot in her hull, besides having lost as many men as we had. This made Captain Forrest refrain from following the Frenchmen.

“I was very glad to find Mr Foley all right, for his own sake, for I like him very much—and still more for that of Miss Ferris, for it would be a terrible thing for her were he to be killed, and I hope he won’t, though we all run the risk of losing the number of our mess. As soon as I could leave my station I ran down below to see how poor Mountstephen was getting on. He was perfectly sensible, though pale as a sheet. He said he felt no pain. His first question was, ‘What are the enemy about?’

“‘They’re running,’ I replied.

“‘What, all seven of them?’ he asked.

“‘Yes, every one,’ I answered.

“‘Hurrah!’ he exclaimed, waving his hand above his head, ‘we’ve gained the victory.’

“Scarcely were the words out of his mouth than he fell back, and before the doctor could come to him he was dead.

“When I got on deck again—and I can tell you I was very glad to breathe some fresh air, after being down in that dreadful cockpit, full of poor fellows groaning with pain, some having their legs and arms cut off, others with their sides torn open or heads fearfully smashed—I found that the enemy were out of our reach, and that not one of our three ships was in a condition to follow them. This was very provoking, though we had fought a right gallant action, of that there can be no doubt. Captain Forrest seeing that, if we got to leeward, we should be unable to beat off, and very likely be driven on shore and lost, ordered a course to be steered for Jamaica, where we arrived in a couple of days. The admiral highly approved of what had been done, and Captain Forrest received orders to get his ship repaired with all despatch and return as soon as possible in search of the enemy. The hands were taken off our sloop for this purpose, and there seemed every probability of our remaining some time longer on board the Augusta. Still, things are not done so quickly out here as they are in the dockyards at home. At last we got to sea and sailed for Cape François. On looking into that port we found that the Frenchmen had put their best legs foremost, and that Monsieur De Kearsaint, having repaired his ships, had some days before sailed with the convoy for Europe, and we should have no chance of overtaking him. We had accordingly to come back, when we again sailed with the admiral, whose flag was flying on board the Marlborough, for a cruise off Cape Tibéron. I should make my letter too long if I were to describe all that took place. We had not been many days on the station before we captured two French privateers, and from their crows learned that a rich convoy was preparing at Port au Prince to sail for Europe, under the protection of two large armed private ships. The admiral on this sent in his tender to ascertain if such was the fact. Her commander, who speaks French, managed to gain all the intelligence he required; he soon returned, having ascertained that the information received was correct. The admiral accordingly directed us to proceed off the island of Golavé, to cruise there for two days, and, should we see anything of the convoy at the expiration of that time, to return and join him. Golavé, you will understand, is in the middle of the large bay which occupies nearly the whole western coast of Saint Domingo, to the northward of Cape Tibéron.

“The afternoon of the day following our arrival, we had got well up into the bay, when we caught sight of two sloops. To prevent them from taking us for what we were, we hoisted Dutch colours and stood away from them. In the evening we sighted seven more sail steering out of the bay. On this, to deceive the enemy, we hung tarpaulins over the sides of the ship, set the sails in lubberly fashion, and, hauling our wind, stood away from the strangers till dark. We then again made sail and followed them. At ten o’clock we saw two more sail, one of which fired a gun, and the other then parted company and steered for Leogane. Soon afterwards eight more sail were seen to leeward. We had not lost sight of the ship which had fired a gun; though she might have suspected our character, she did not stand away from us. We accordingly soon ran up alongside, when Captain Forrest shouted out to him in French to strike, adding, ‘If you alarm the other ships, or let them discover by any means what we are, we’ll send you forthwith to the bottom.’