Scarcely had the flash been seen than a whole broadside fired by the enemy came rattling on board the Triton. It was returned by the British crew. Broadside after broadside was given and received. In vain Captain Fancourt endeavoured to haul either ahead or astern of the enemy to rake her. She kept her advantageous position, and the Spaniards, whatever may sometimes be said of them, fought their ship gallantly. The action continued to be a regular broadside to broadside one. The boatswain was seen examining the masts with anxious looks. They and the bowsprit had been wounded pretty severely, while the rigging hung in festoons, and her sails were shot through and torn. Still the British seamen fought their guns as energetically as at first.
“Keep it up, my lads!” cried Headland, as he with Harry and other officers moved from gun to gun. “We have given her as much as we have received, and something more into the bargain.”
As far as the canopy of smoke which hung round the ships could enable the British crew to distinguish the condition of their antagonist, they saw that every shroud had been cut away, and her boats and upper works knocked to pieces, while hitherto but very few of their own crew had been hit and not one killed. The action lasted an hour and twenty minutes, when the Spaniards’ fire sensibly slackened.
The Triton, giving her antagonist another broadside, now forged ahead. The crew were ordered to leave their guns, and in an instant the greater number swarming aloft began knotting and splicing the damaged rigging, while fresh sails were got up and bent with a rapidity which looked like magic. Meantime the Spaniard was similarly engaged, and her helm being put up she endeavoured under such sail as she could set to make off. The sight still further stimulated the British crew to exertion, and in twenty minutes, with rigging refitted, she went about and with every gun reloaded stood down once more towards the enemy. Though the latter had hitherto fought with the greatest courage, yet no sooner did the Triton come within range than the proud flag of Spain was hauled down. A cheer, such as British sailors alone can give, burst from the victorious crew.
Headland and Harry were sent on board with the only boat that could swim, to take possession.
The brave Spanish captain delivered up his sword with a dignified bow, and Headland, complimenting him on his gallantry, requested him at once to go on board the Triton. That he had not yielded till the last moment was evident, for the booms having fallen down had disabled all the waist guns of the frigate, and fully thirty men lay on the decks, while an equal number were found wounded in the cockpit, many of them mortally.
Not a moment was to be lost, and as soon as two other boats could be patched up, more of the Triton’s crew were sent on board to repair the damages the prize had received.
She proved to be the Mahonesa, and her brave captain, Don Tomas Ayaldi.
“Well, we have done something now at all events,” said Harry to Headland, as the severed shrouds and running rigging of the prize having been repaired and sail made she and her captor were steering for Gibraltar.
The Triton remained sometime at Gibraltar to refit.