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

by William Henry Giles Kingston

On a fine bright morning the Ouzel Galley sailed into the Bay of Dublin, with flags flying at her mast-heads and mizen-peak. She was quickly recognised as she ran up the Liffey, and Mr Ferris’s partners and the underwriters who had insured her were soon collected on board to welcome her long-lost master and their other friends. A dinner was shortly afterwards given to all who had returned in her, when, to commemorate the event, and to show their satisfaction at the result of the arbitration to which they had agreed, it was determined to form a society, the members of which should be called the captain, officers, and crew of the “Ouzel Galley,” the president taking the title of captain, and the other office-bearers that of officers; and it was wisely resolved, instead of going to law, to submit in future any disputes which might arise connected with underwriting to their arbitration. As a mark of respect to Captain Tracy, he was elected the first captain, Owen Massey being appointed his lieutenant.

Before many weeks had elapsed the three proposed marriages took place, Archie Sandys departing with his bride for Scotland, while Norman Foley and Owen Massey made a tour through the south of Ireland before going to Waterford, where they had agreed to remain for some time, to be near Mrs Massey and Captain Tracy. Owen would, however, have again to go to sea, but neither he nor Norah liked to talk of the subject, and wisely forebore thinking about it.

Norman was expecting to enjoy some months on shore, when he and Gerald received orders to join the Aeolus, 32-gun frigate, which was at that time cruising off the Irish coast. On getting on board they found several of their old shipmates. They had been at sea for some time when the Aeolus was joined by the Pallas and Brilliant frigates, soon after which a gale coming on compelled the squadron to put into Kinsale harbour. Here they were lying repairing some slight damages they had received, when a courier arrived in hot haste with the information that a French squadron of three frigates, under the command of Captain Thurot, had attacked the town of Carrickfergus and plundered the place, and had had the audacity to demand contributions from Belfast, which he threatened to treat in the same way. Captain Elliott, who commanded the Aeolus, and was senior captain, immediately put to sea with the other frigates in search of the Frenchmen. He soon gained information that they had left Carrickfergus, and were apparently intending to return to France. As far as force was concerned his ships carried the same number of guns as the Frenchmen, but the latter had many more men on board. He, however, felt confident of victory.

The three frigates were standing towards the Isle of Man, when, early in the morning, the French squadron was seen approaching from the northward. Thurot could not possibly escape without an action had he wished it. He commanded the Marshal Belleisle, of forty-four guns, and had with him the Blonde and Terpsichore. Nor was he a man to yield as long as a hope of victory remained: his character was well known to all on board the British ships.

Norman Foley and Gerald had taken part in not a few actions, but they felt that this was likely to prove, though short, as severe as any in which they had fought.

The crews were piped to breakfast as usual. It was quickly got over, and then every man went to his gun and stood ready for the fight. At nine o’clock the first shot was fired, and the Aeolus, ranging up alongside the brave Thurot’s ship, hotly engaged her. The battle lasted for upwards of an hour, the English firing with a rapidity which told fearfully on their enemies.

The Blonde and Terpsichore at length struck their colours, but Thurot held out to the last. The Aeolus, discharging another broadside, ran her aboard, when grappling-irons were secured and the boarders called away, led by Norman Foley and Gerald Tracy. Her deck already presented the appearance of a perfect shambles, so many of her crew lay dead and dying in all directions. A determined band still held out, headed by an officer who, by his shouts and gestures, encouraged his men to fight till the last. Gerald at first supposed that he must be Thurot, but a second look convinced him that he was a much taller and darker man. Just as the British crew sprang on board a rifle bullet struck him on the chest, and, throwing up his sword-arm, he fell backward on the deck, when the rest of the crew, retreating, shouted out that they yielded. One of the men aft immediately hauled down the French flag.

Among the slain was Thurot, who had been struck down just before the ship got alongside.

Gerald then approached the officer he had seen killed. A glance convinced him that he was no other than O’Harrall. This was confirmed by Tim Maloney, who had joined the Aeolus with him, and corroborated by some of the French prisoners, who stated that he had only a short time before come on board the ship, having lately arrived from the West Indies.

“This will not be unsatisfactory news to Owen Massey,” observed Gerald to Norman Foley. “It is my belief that he is the last of the O’Harralls, and Owen will have a good chance of recovering the property of which they so unjustly deprived his family.”