"Britannia needs no bulwark,
No towers along the steep,
Her march is o'er the mountain waves,
Her home is on the deep."
CAMPBELL.
The _Windsor Castle_ ploughed through the vast ocean of waters before a
propitious gale, laden with treasure, in the safe arrival of which so
many were interested. But what were all the valuables stowed away in
her frame, in the opinion of Newton Forster, in comparison with the
lovely being who had intrusted them with her safe conduct to her native
country! The extreme precautions adopted or suggested by Newton for
security during the night--his nervous anxiety during the day--became a
source of laughter and ridicule to Captain Oughton; who once observed to
him,--"Newton, my boy, I see how the land lies, but depend upon it the
old ship won't tumble overboard a bit sooner than before; so one reef in
the top-sails will be quite sufficient."
Indeed, although they "never mentioned it," it was impossible for either
of them to disguise their feelings. Their very attempts at concealment
only rendered them more palpable to everyone on board. Captain Oughton,
who was very partial to Newton, rejoiced in his good fortune. He had no
objection to young people falling or being in love on board of his ship,
although he would not have sanctioned or permitted a marriage to take
place during the period that a young lady was under his protection.
Once landed on Deal beach, as he observed, they might "buckle to" as
soon as they pleased.
The _Windsor Castle_ was within two hundred miles of the Mauritius, when
a strange vessel was discovered on the weather beam, bearing down to
them with all the canvas she could spread. Her appearance was warlike;
but what her force might be, it was impossible to ascertain at the
distance she was off, and the position which she then offered, being
then nearly "end on."
"Can you make out her hull, Mr Forster?" cried Captain Oughton, hailing
Newton, who was at the mast-head with a glass.
"No, sir; her fore-yard is but now clear of the water, but she rises
very fast."
"What do you think of her spars, Forster?" said Captain Oughton to
Newton, who had just descended to the last rattling of the main-rigging.
"She is very taut, sir, and her canvas appears to be foreign."
"I'll bet you what you please it's that damned fellow Surcoeuf. This is
just his cruising-ground, if the report of that neutral vessel was
correct."
"Another hour will decide the point, sir," replied Newton; "but I must
say I think your surmise likely to prove correct. We may as well be
ready for him: a cruiser she certainly is."
"The sooner the better, Mr Forster. He's but a `rum customer,' and `a
hard hitter' by all accounts. Clear up the decks, and beat to
quarters."
The strange vessel came down with such rapidity that, by the time the
captain's orders were obeyed, she was not more than two miles distant.
"There's `in studding-sails,'--and in devilish good style too!" observed
Captain Oughton. "Now we shall see what he's made of."
The vessel rounded to the wind as soon as she had reduced her sails, on
the same tack as the _Windsor Castle_, displaying her broadside, as the
French would say, _herisee des canons_.
"A corvette, sir," said Newton, reconnoitring through his glass;
"two-and-twenty guns besides her bridle ports. She is French rigged;--
the rake of her stern is French;--in fact, she is French all over."
"All Lombard Street to a China orange, 'tis Surcoeuf," replied Captain
Oughton, who, with the rest of his officers, had his glass upon the
vessel. "There goes the tricoloured flag to prove I've won my bet.
Answer the challenge. Toss my hat up.--Pshaw! I mean hoist the colours
there abaft. Mr Thomas," continued Captain Oughton, addressing the
boatswain, "send the ship's company aft.--Forster, you had better see
the ladies down below."
At the summons of the boatswain, the men came aft, and stood in a body
on the leeside of the quarterdeck, with their hats off, and impatience
in their looks.
"Now, my lads," said Captain Oughton, "if I am not mistaken, that vessel
is commanded by the very best seaman that ever left a French port, and
to do him justice, he's a damnation fine fellow!--a severe punisher, and
can take a mauling as well as give one."
"Yes, sir, so can we," replied several of the men together.
"I know you can, my lads; and give and take is fair play. All I say is,
let it be a fair stand up fight, and `may the best man win.' So now, my
lads, if you're ready to come to the scratch, why, the sooner we peel
the better--that's all."
"Hurrah!" cried the seamen, as they separated to their quarters; and, in
compliance with the injunctions of the captain, threw off their jackets,
and many of them their shirts, to prepare for the conflict.
The corvette, after she had rounded to, and exchanged colours, reduced
her sails to precisely the same canvas as that carried by the _Windsor
Castle_. This was to try her rate of sailing. In a quarter of an hour,
her superiority was manifest. She then hauled up her courses, and
dropped to her former position on the _Windsor Castle's_ weather-beam.
"The fellow has the heels of us, at all events," observed Captain
Oughton; "but, Forster, the ladies are not yet below. Mrs Enderby, I
am sorry to be obliged to put you in confinement for a short time. Miss
Revel, you must do me the favour to accept of Mr Forster's convoy below
the water-line."
Newton offered his arm to Isabel, and followed Captain Oughton, who
escorted Mrs Enderby. His heart was swelling with such variety of
feeling that he could not at first trust himself to speak. When they
had descended the ladder, and were picking their way, stepping over the
rammers, sponges, and tackles, stretched across the main-deck, Newton
observed--"This is not the first time I have been commissioned to place
you in security. I trust I shall again have the pleasure of relieving
you from your bondage."
Isabel's lips quivered as she replied, "I trust in God that you may, Mr
Forster!--but--I feel more anxious now than I did on the former
occasion. I--"
"I have a foreboding," interrupted Newton, "that this day's work is to
make or mar me! Why, I cannot tell, but I feel more confident than the
chances would warrant; but farewell, Isabel--God bless you!"--and
Newton, pressing her hand, sprang up the ladder to his station on the
quarter-deck.
I have before observed that a man's courage much depends upon his
worldly means or prospects. A man who has much to lose, whatever the
property may consist of, will be less inclined to fight than another
whose whole capital consists of a "light heart and a thin pair of
breeches." Upon the same reasoning, a man in love will not be inclined
to fight as another. Death then cuts off the sweetest prospects in
existence. Lord St. Vincent used to say that a married man was damned
for the service. Now (bating the honeymoon), I do not agree with his
lordship. A man in love may be inclined to play the Mark Antony; but a
married man, "come what will, he has been blessed." Once fairly into
action, it then is of little consequence whether a man is a bachelor, or
married, or in love; the all-absorbing occupation of killing your
fellow-creatures makes you for the time forget whether you are a beggar
or a prince.
When Newton returned on deck, he found that the corvette had gradually
edged down until nearly within point-blank range.
"Shall we lay the main-topsail to the mast?" observed Newton. "We shall
see his manoeuvres."
"Why, he hardly would be fool enough to bear down to us," replied
Captain Oughton; "he is a determined fellow, I know; but I believe not a
rash one. However, we can but try. Square the main-yard."
As soon as the _Windsor Castle_ was hove-to, the courses of the enemy
were seen to flutter a few moments in the breeze, and then the canvas
was expanded. When the vessel had gathered sufficient way, she hove in
stays, and crossed the _Windsor Castle_ on the opposite tack.
"I thought so," observed Captain Oughton. "The fellow knows what he is
about. He'll not `put his head in chancery,' that's clear. How
cautious the rascal is! It's very like the first round of a fight--much
manoeuvring and wary sparring before they begin to make play."
The corvette stood on the opposite tack until well abaft the beam. She
then wore round, and ranged up on the weather quarter of the Indiaman.
When within two cables' length of the _Windsor Castle_, who had, a
little before, filled her main-topsail to be in command, the Frenchman
hauled up his foresail, and discovered his lower rigging manned by the
ship's company, who gave a loud but hasty cheer, and then disappeared.
One cock crowing is a challenge, sure to be answered, if the antagonist
is game. The English seamen sprang up to return the compliment, when
Captain Oughton roared out, "To your guns, you fools! Hard down with
the helm--fly the jib-sheet--check headbraces--look out now, my lads."
The corvette had already put her helm up and paid off to pass under the
stern of the _Windsor Castle_, with the intention, of raking her. The
promptitude of Captain Oughton foiled the manoeuvre of the Frenchman;
which would have been more fatal had the English seamen been in the
rigging to have been swept off by his grape-shot. As the _Windsor
Castle_ was thrown upon the wind, an exchange of broadsides took place,
which, according to the usual custom of all well regulated broadsides in
close conflict, cut away a certain proportion of the spars and rigging,
and cut up a proportion of the ships' companies. The _Windsor castle_,
worked by Newton, bracing round on the other tack, and the corvette
rounding to on the same, the two vessels separated for a few minutes.
"Devilish well stopped, Newton, wasn't it?" said Captain Oughton,
showing his white teeth. "Look out again--here she comes."
The corvette again attempted to rake as she ranged up after tacking, by
throwing herself up in the wind; but Captain Oughton, watching the
slightest variation of his adversary's career, gradually edging away,
and then putting his helm up, manoeuvred that the broadsides should
again be exchanged. This second exchange was more effectual than the
first.
"A stomacher, and both down!" cried Captain Oughton, as he surveyed the
deck. "Be quick, Newton, hand the men below. Don't bring her to the
wind yet, he has lost his way by luffing up, and cannot make play again
for a few minutes."
After the second broadside, the vessels were much further apart, from
the _Windsor Castle_ running off the wind, while the corvette was too
much crippled to work with her usual rapidity. This was convenient to
both parties, as the last broadside had been very mischievous. The
Frenchman, low in the water, had suffered less in her hull and ship's
company, but more in her spars and rigging. The foremast was nearly cut
in half by the carronade shot of her antagonist; her mainyard was badly
wounded, and her wheel knocked to atoms, which obliged them to steer on
the lower deck. The _Windsor Castle_ had received five shots in her
hull, three men killed, and six wounded; three of her main shrouds cut
in two, and her mizzenmast badly wounded.
It was a quarter of an hour before the Frenchman returned to the attack.
Captain Oughton had again hauled his wind, as if not wishing to decline
the combat; which, indeed, the superior sailing of his antagonist
prevented. The corvette appeared to have given up manoeuvring; whether
from the crippled state of her spars and sails, or from perceiving that
he had hitherto gained nothing by his attempts. He now ranged up to
within two cables' lengths of the _Windsor Castle_, and recommenced the
action, broadside to broadside.
The breeze was lulled by the concussion of the air; and both vessels
continued in the same position, and at the same distance for upwards of
an hour, pouring in their broadsides, every shot of which was effectual.
"Now, this is what I call a reg'lar set-to. Fire away, my lads," cried
Captain Oughton, rubbing his hands. "A proper rally this. Damn it, but
he's game!"
The wounded mizzen-mast of the _Windsor Castle_ received another shot in
the heart of it, which threw it over the side. Every part of her hull
proved the severe and well directed fire of the enemy; her sails were as
ragged as Jeremy Didler's pocket-handkerchief; her remaining masts
pitted with shot; the bulwarks torn away in several places; the boats on
the booms in shivers; rigging cut away fore and aft, and the ends
swinging to and fro with the motion of the vessel; her decks in
confusion; and some of her guns, from necessity, deserted. Captain
Oughton, Newton, and the rest of the officers, continued to encourage
the men, giving them assistance in working the guns; and the ship's
company appeared to have fully imbibed the bull-dog spirit of their
commander.
The fire of the _Windsor Castle_ had been equally destructive. The
vessels had gradually neared each other in the calm; and the height of
the _Windsor Castle_ out of the water, in comparison with the corvette,
had given her the advantage in sweeping the decks of the enemy. The
contending vessels were in this situation, when, for a minute or two, a
cessation of firing took place, in consequence of the accumulation of
smoke, which had so completely enshrouded them both that they knew not
where to direct their guns; and they waited until it should clear away,
that the firing might recommence. A light air gradually swept the veil
to leeward, and discovered both vessels to each other, at the distance
of half a cable's length. Captain Oughton was with Newton on the poop,
and the commander of the French corvette was standing on the hammock
nettings of his own vessel. The latter took off his hat, and
courteously saluted his adversary. Captain Oughton answered the
salutation; and then waving his hat, pointed to the English colours,
which had been hoisted at the main; as much as to say, "They never shall
come down!" The Frenchman (it was Surcoeuf) did the same to the
tricolour, and the action recommenced.
"Well done, my lads!" cried Captain Oughton; "well done! that broadside
was a staggerer--right into his ribs. Hurrah now, my hearts of oak!
this fellow's worth fighting. Aim at his foremast--another broadside
will floor it. It's on the reel. Newton, jump forward, and--"
But the order was stopped by a grape-shot, which struck Captain Oughton
in the breast. He staggered and fell from the poop to the quarter-deck.
Newton leapt down, and went to him. The torrents of blood from his
breast at once told the tale: and Newton called to some of the men, that
his commander might be taken below.
"Wait a moment, my dear lad," said Captain Oughton, faintly, and
catching his breath at every word; "it's a finisher--can't come to
time--I die game." His head fell on his breast, and the blood poured
out of his mouth.
Newton directed the body to be taken into the cuddy, that the men might
not be dispirited by the sight. He then hastened to the poop, that he
might reconnoitre the enemy. He perceived that the corvette had hauled
on board his tattered courses, and was standing ahead of them.
"He's off, sir," cried one of the quarter-masters.
"I suspect not," replied Newton, who had his glass to his eye, looking
upon the decks of the French vessel. "They are preparing to board, and
will be round again in five minutes. Cutlasses and pikes ready--
forward, my lads, all of us! We must beat them off!"
"And will, too," cried the seamen, as in obedience to their orders, they
collected on the forecastle. But they mustered thin; nearly half of the
ship's company were either lying dead or under the hands of the surgeon;
and, as Newton surveyed his little force, fatigued as they were with
their exertions, black with powder, stained with blood, and reeking with
perspiration, he could not but acknowledge how heavy were the odds
against the attack of a vessel so well manned as the corvette appeared
to be. Newton said but a few words; but they were to the point; and he
had the satisfaction to perceive, as they grasped their cutlasses, that
if their numbers were few and their frames exhausted, their spirit was
as unsubdued as ever.
The corvette had in the meantime run ahead on a wind, about a mile, when
she wore round, and was now standing right on to the _Windsor Castle_,
and had neared to within three cables' lengths. A few minutes were to
decide the point. Her courses were again hauled up, and discovered her
lee fore-rigging, bowsprit, cat-heads, and forecastle, crowded with men
ready for the dash on board, as soon as the vessels should come in
contact Newton stood on one of the forecastle guns surrounded by his
men; not a word was spoken on board of the _Windsor Castle_, as they
watched their advancing enemy. They were within a cable's length of
each other, and Newton could plainly distinguish the features of the
gallant Surcoeuf, who was in advance on the knight-heads, when a puff of
wind, which at any other time would not have occasioned the starting of
a royal sheet, took the sails of the corvette; and her wounded foremast,
laden with men in the lee-rigging, unable to bear the pressure, fell
over the side, carrying with it the maintop-mast, and most of the crew,
who had been standing in the rigging, and leaving the corvette an
encumbered wreck. A loud shout from the forecastle of the _Windsor
Castle_ announced that the English seamen were but too well aware of
their desperate situation, and that they hailed the misfortune of the
Frenchmen as their deliverance.
"Now, my lads, be smart," cried Newton, as he sprang aft to the wheel,
and put up the helm; "man the flying jib-halyards (the jib was under the
forefoot); let go the main-top bowling; square the main-yard. That will
do; she's paying off. Man your guns; half a dozen broadsides, and it's
all our own."
The sun had disappeared below the horizon, and the shades of evening had
set in, before this manoeuvre had been accomplished. Several broadsides
were poured into the corvette, which had the desired effect of crippling
her still more, and her encumbered condition prevented any return. At
last the night hid both vessels from each other; and the breeze
freshening fast, it was necessary that the remaining masts of the
_Windsor Castle_ should be properly secured. The guns were therefore
abandoned; and during the time the seamen were employed in knotting the
rigging and bending the spare sails, Newton consulted with his brother
officers, who were unanimous in agreeing that all had been done that
could be expected, and that to wait till the ensuing day, when the
corvette would have repaired her damages, would be attended with a risk
of capture, which the valuable property entrusted to their charge would
never authorise. It was not until past midnight that the _Windsor
Castle_ was in a condition to make sail; but long before this, Newton
had contrived to leave the deck for a few minutes to communicate with
Isabel. With most of the particulars, and with the death of Captain
Oughton, she had already been made acquainted; and if there could be any
reward to Newton, for his gallantry and his prudence, more coveted than
another, it was the affectionate greeting with which he was welcomed and
congratulated by Isabel, her eyes beaming with tears of delight as they
glanced from his face, and were shrouded on the deck.
Love and murder make a pretty mixture, although as antithetical as the
sweet and acid in punch,--a composition which meets the approbation of
all sensible, discriminating people. But I shall leave the reader to
imagine all he pleases, and finish the chapter by informing him that,
when the sun again made his appearance, the corvette was not to be
discovered from the mast-head. The guns were therefore properly
secured; the decks washed; a jury mizzen-mast stuck up abaft; Captain
Oughton, and the gallant fellows who had fallen in the combat, committed
to the deep with the usual ceremonies; the wounded made as comfortable
as possible in their hammocks; the carpenters busied with the necessary
repairs; and the _Windsor Castle_, commanded by Newton Forster, running
before a spanking breeze, at the rate of eight knots per hour.