Will Weatherhelm: The Yarn of an Old Sailor

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“Repel boarders!” was the shout. On came the Frenchmen, streaming in crowds over their forecastle. We met them, cutlass and pistol in hand, and with loud shouts drove them back to their own ship. They must not have been sorry to get there, for every instant it appeared that our gallant frigate would go down under the repeated blows given us by our opponent. I do not believe, though, that such an idea occurred to many of us. We only thought of driving back the enemy, of striving to gain the victory. All this time our great guns were blazing away, and the marines were keeping up a hot fire of musketry, while the enemy were pounding us as sharply in return.

Not a minute of rest did they afford us. Led on by their officers, with shouts and shrieks they rushed over their bows and down by the bowsprit on to our deck. Every inch of plank was fiercely contested, and literally our scuppers ran streams of blood.

Try and picture for a moment the two ships rolling, tumbling, and grinding against each other, the wind whistling in our rigging (for it was blowing heavily), the severed ropes and canvas lashing about in every direction; the smoke and flames from our guns, their muzzles almost touching, the cries, and groans, and shouts; spars and blocks tumbling from aloft; the decks slippery with gore; the roar of big guns, the rattle of musketry, the flash of pistols, the clash of cutlasses as we met together; and some faint idea may be formed of the encounter in which we were engaged.

Once more the enemy were driven back, leaving many dead; but we also suffered fearfully. Still we persevered. For an instant I had time to look round. I saw the shattered condition of our ship, my brave companions dropping rapidly around me, several of our lieutenants severely wounded, and for the first time the dread came over me that we must strike our flag or sink at our quarters, for I felt convinced that the ship could not stand much longer the sort of treatment she had been undergoing.

Again the shout was raised, “Repel boarders!”

“Steady, my brave lads, meet them!” cried our gallant captain. We saw the Frenchmen hurrying along the waist, leaping up on the forecastle, and then in dense masses they rushed down on our decks. We met them as bravely as men can meet their foes, but already we had nearly sixty men (more than a quarter of our crew) either killed or wounded, and, terribly overmatched, we were borne back by mere force of numbers.

The way cleared, the Frenchmen continued pouring in on us till our people were literally forced down the hatchways or against the opposite bulwarks, while our cutlasses were knocked out of our hands, no longer able to grasp them. The bravest on board must have felt there was no help for it, and no one was braver than our captain. The British colours were hauled down.

When I saw what had happened, I felt as if a shot had gone through me—grief and shame made my heart sink within my bosom. The Frenchmen cheered; we threw down our weapons, and went below. We were called up, however, to assist in getting the ships free of each other. This was a work of no little difficulty. Some of our people were removed aboard the Ville de Milan, and she sent about forty men, including officers, to take possession of the Cleopatra.

Some of the Frenchmen told us that their captain had been killed by one of the last shots we fired. We had four lieutenants, the master, and the lieutenant of marines wounded, as well as the boatswain and a midshipman, though not an officer was killed. Of the seamen and marines, we had twenty-two killed and thirty wounded. Another proof that we did not give in while a chance of victory remained was, that scarcely were we free of the Frenchman than our main and fore masts went over our side, and very shortly afterwards the bowsprit followed, and our gallant frigate was left a miserable wreck on the waters.

The French lost a good many men, and their ship was so knocked about, that her main and mizzen-masts both went over the side during the night, and when day broke, to all appearance she was not much better off than the Cleopatra.