Under Wolfe's Flag; or, The Fight for the Canadas

by Rowland Walker

  *CHAPTER V*

  *THE FIGHT WITH THE FRIGATE*

  There was no little excitement aboard when it became known that thedistant sail, "hull down" upon the horizon, was probably a Frenchfrigate.

  "Look at her white canvas, and her large, square yards!" exclaimedJamie. "She must be a man-of-war, and even if she's only a frigateshe'll carry thirty guns against our ten, and treble the number of men."

  "If she is a Frenchman she'll sink us, that's certain, though I hopeCaptain Forbes will make a fight of it," replied Jack, who could notentirely suppress a feeling akin to dread, as he watched the approachingship.

  "There's just a chance that she may be a friend, after all, for even theEnglish cruisers do not always show their colours to the quarry untilall chance of escape is cut off."

  "It's just possible, of course, for there should be plenty of themhereabouts. Mr. Rogers tells me that last year they brought no less thanthree hundred French ships and their crews into English ports."

  Breakfast was served as soon as the excitement aboard the _Duncan_ hadabated somewhat, and afterwards the captain assembled the crew andaddressed them as follows--

  "Lads, we're now within two hundred leagues of the New England coast,and we're carrying a valuable cargo. 'Tis our duty to save it if wecan, but yonder is a fast and powerful frigate in our wake, who won'tshow any colours, though mine have been flying at the mast-head thishalf-hour."

  "Hurrah! hurrah!" burst from the men, as they saw the ensign they lovedso well unfurled to the breeze.

  "That's right, lads! I'm glad to see that you're not ashamed to fightfor the old flag," exclaimed the captain.

  "We'll die for it, captain, if need be!" shouted several of the men, andno wonder, for 'tis remarkable the courage that even a flag inspires inthe presence of an enemy, especially when that enemy dares to insult it.

  "The fact that he has not yet shown his colours," went on the captain,"means that we've an enemy in our wake. Still, if this breeze holds wemay outsail him, but if we can't do that we've got to fight him."

  "Aye! aye! sir! Let's fight him."

  "No Frenchman shall ever take my ship while I live. I'll blow her upfirst. Mark my words, lads. I will!" This was spoken in such afierce, but deliberate manner that the men all saw that Captain Forbesmeant it, and they responded with a ringing cheer, which rent the airlike a broadside, and filled each heart with courage and determination.

  "So now, lads, let's clear the decks, and prepare for the worst."

  "Aye! aye! sir!"

  And the men went to work as only British tars can work. They clearedthe decks of everything that was useless in an action. They cleaned andloaded the guns, but they did not as yet open the port-lids to run themout, lest the lower decks should be swamped, and the ship delayed. Theyran out the boarding-nets, and brought up the powder, wads and shot.They got ready their cutlasses and boarding-pikes, and in every waypossible prepared to meet a daring foe.

  "Tell the men aloft to keep a sharp lookout. We may sight an Englishfrigate at any moment, and then we shall see some fun, Mr. Rogers."

  "Aye! aye! captain. That we shall," replied the mate.

  Slowly the distant frigate gained upon the _Duncan_, and before noon itcould be easily seen from the deck, though still some five leaguesdistant. Nearer and nearer she came, and every man aboard the _Duncan_had now made up his mind that a fight was the only possible ending, andthe sooner it came, the better.

  The second mate, Mr. Hudson, and Jamie were in the fore-top now, andjust before dinner the captain hailed them, and said--

  "Ho, there! Can you make out her armament yet?"

  "Pretty well, sir."

  "How many guns does she carry?"

  "Twenty-six, I fancy, sir, for I can make out thirteen portholes on herstarboard side."

  The captain trod the deck impatiently, looking anxiously first at theapproaching frigate, and then into the weather quarter, as though heanticipated a change.

  "I fear the wind's dropping, Mr. Rogers," he said to the first mate, whopaced the deck beside him. "We shall have a calm shortly," and withinanother half-hour the wind moderated, and shortly after that it blewspasmodically, and the frigate, now only two leagues away, was "layingon and off," trying to catch every breath of wind. The sails thenflapped idly against the masts, and there followed a dead calm, whenboth ships lay helpless upon a mirrored sheet of glass.

  A puff of blue smoke broke away from one of the starboard guns of theenemy, as she now lay broadside on towards the English ship, and then--

  "Boom!" came a report, rumbling over the water.

  At the same instant the French flag was broken at the mast-head.

  "I thought as much, lads! Now we know who she is, and what she wants.That shot is a demand for surrender. What are those other flags he'shanging out, Mr. Hudson?"

  "He's signalling, sir. Wants to know if we've struck. What shall Itell him, sir?"

  "Tell him we haven't struck yet, but we'll do so as soon as he comes alittle nearer, in the same way that Englishmen always strike."

  At these words, which were heard all over the ship, a rousing cheer,which the Frenchman must have heard and wondered at, rang across thewater, for it summed up the feelings of every man aboard. Shortly afterthis, the event which every one was expecting, from the captain down tothe youngest cabin boy, happened.

  "They're preparing to lower away the boats, sir. They mean to cut usout," came from the fore-top.

  "Stand ready, my lads. Load every gun with grape-shot, lads, but don'tfire till I give the order."

  "Aye, aye, sir!"

  One, two, three boats had been lowered, and filled with armed men. Eachpulled ten oars, and there were at least thirty men in each boat, nowpulling towards the _Duncan_.

  Guns were run out; matches lit; cutlasses and pikes kept handy; but forthe next half-hour a deep silence pervaded the ship's company. The menspoke not, for every order had been given, except that one for whichthey were all waiting; but the glow which was upon every cheek, and thesparkle which was in every eye, showed the tense feeling which animatedthe men. It was as though every man heard the words--

  "In quietness and in confidence shall be your strength."

  Jamie and Jack were both stationed at the same gun, one of thetwelve-pounders on the port-side, amidships. This was their firstaction, and they had a strange feeling at this moment. It was not fear,for who could fear with the eye of that brave commander upon them fromthe quarter-deck. It was rather a feeling of mingled awe and suspense.Oh, how slowly the moments crawled! Five--ten--twenty minutes passed.

  They could now hear the swish of the enemy's oars as they fell inmeasured strokes upon the water. Nearer and nearer they came. Thefirst boat was now scarcely a cable's length away, when--

  "Fire!" came in a voice of thunder from the poop.

  Every gun that had been brought to bear belched forth its contents offlame and iron. The deadly missiles sped on their way, carrying deathand destruction.

  As soon as the smoke had cleared away, the awful effect of thisconcentrated fire could be seen. The first boat was literally blown topieces; nothing was left of it but broken fragments, and the sea seemedfull of struggling creatures, whose cries were pitiful. The second andthird boats, however, were untouched, and while one went to theassistance of the first, the other dashed alongside, and with a wild cryof vengeance, the men clambered up the side and attempted to board.

  "Repel boarders! Give it 'em, lads!" cried the captain, and seizingtheir pikes and cutlasses the men left the guns and attacked the enemy,who came on cheering, led by their brave officers. The third boat hadstopped but to pick up a few stragglers, and then joined their comrades.There were now sixty or seventy men attempting to board the merchantman,but very few of them reached the deck, for the nets impeded theirprogress, and the stalwart defenders hurled them back into the sea.

  The carnage was frightful. No q
uarter was asked, and none was given.The guns were silent now. It was hand-to-hand. Once the enemysucceeded in cutting away the nets, and an intrepid officer, followed bya few men, gained the deck, but in a trice Captain Forbes was amongstthem, hewing his way with his long cutlass. A dozen men sprang to hisassistance, and in less time than it takes to tell it, the intruderswere stretched dead or wounded upon the deck.

  At another time the alarm was given that the Frenchmen had gained thepoop. Alas, it was only too true; some of them had clambered up and inat the stern windows, and had thus gained the upper deck. There was nota moment to spare, for already they were attempting to turn one of thebrass swivels on the poop upon the crew.

  "Follow me, lads!" cried the captain, as he sprang aft and up thecompanion ladder, and every man who could leave his post followed him,including Jamie and his chum.

  A dreadful hand-to-hand fight took place. The men fought like tigers.Only two of the enemy escaped who had reached the poop, and these wereglad to leap into the sea, to escape those avenging English, who foughtlike demons.

  While this fierce scuffle was taking place, something happened that hadpassed unnoticed until it was too late. The wind, which had dropped toa dead calm, had sprung up and freshened rapidly from the nor'-east, andthe frigate, receiving the first benefit of the breeze, had crept innearer to the ship, and almost before Captain Forbes could get hisvessel under way, the enemy poured in his first broadside of thirteenguns, with an awful, crashing effect. The ship staggered, and shookfrom stem to stern at this fearful impact. Down came the foremast, andwent over the side, carrying with it a tangle of wreckage, torn sailsand rigging, giving the vessel a heavy list to starboard, and killingseveral men on the spot. More than twenty men were killed or woundedwithin a few minutes, for broadside now followed broadside.

  "Cut away that rigging, lads!" cried the captain.

  They were almost his last words. As he seized a hatchet and sprangforward to cut away the wreckage, a cannon ball shattered his right arm,and even as he fell, a musket ball pierced his breast, and he fell uponthe blood-stained deck. Jack rushed forward to support him, and triedto staunch his wounds, but the captain shook his head and lapsed intounconsciousness.

  It was a most unequal fight, but the men still fought on stubbornly.Half the guns were dismantled, and there were not enough unwounded mento serve the rest, but every gun that could be manned was double-loadedand fired with such precision, that great havoc was worked upon theenemy's decks, which were much more crowded than those of the Englishship.

  For another hour the unequal contest continued, and the French werepreparing to board again, when the _Duncan's_ main-top-mast went overthe side with a crash, bringing down with it the colours, which had tillnow floated proudly over the wreckage of the merchantman.

  This crash awoke the captain to consciousness for a moment, and henoticed the colours, hanging over the side, as he half raised himselfand endeavoured to assume command.

  "The colours! the colours!" he cried. "Take the ensign aloft, some one!"

  Jamie, who was bending over him, heard and understood. He seized theensign, tattered and torn as it was, and tore it away. The next momenthe sprang into the mizzen shrouds, for that was the only mast remaining.Amid a shower of bullets from the French sharpshooters, he reached thecrosstrees. As he reached the top-gallant yard a shaft of pain seemedto grip his left shoulder; still, up he went, and in another moment hehad made fast the colours above the mizzen-royal yard.

  A moment only he stayed there--to wave his hat in defiance at the enemy,whose bullets still whistled around him. This daring act was not lostupon a gallant foe. The French captain ordered his men to cease firingat _ce brave fils_, and a cheer even broke from the cruiser's deck as hebegan to descend.

  It was with difficulty that he came down from that perilous post, forhis left arm was useless owing to the bullet wound in his shoulder, fromwhich the blood had been flowing freely. Everything about was nowbecoming blurred and indistinct.

  When at last he reached the deck the captain, supported by Jack and thesecond mate, was breathing with great difficulty, but he beckoned Jamieto him. Smiling faintly, and holding out his hand, which the ladgrasped, he was only able to whisper--

  "Well done! We'll go down with colours flying!"

  Then he raised his eyes, to look once more at that tattered ensign,floating bravely at the mizzen, and even while he gazed at it, stillholding the lad's hand, his eyes became fixed in death, and that tornflag was the last thing that he saw on this side.

  Thus died a brave sailor, and an English gentleman, whose courage andfidelity had perhaps passed unnoticed but for this brief record. Andthey laid him gently against the foot of the broken main-mast.

  "Why, what's the matter, Jamie? You're wounded, too!" exclaimed Jack,one of the few still aboard who remained unwounded.

  As Jamie looked at the dead captain the mists swam before his eyes, andhe reeled and fell beside his leader, his idol and example, who had diedat the post of duty for his ship, and the honour of his country.

  "And how can man die better, Than facing fearful odds, For the ashes of his fathers, And the temples of his gods."

  "Wake up, Jamie! Wake up! Oh, comrades, he's dying. Speak, Jamie!Speak!" he cried in an agony of bitterness, quite heedless of the shotsthat still flew around; but his comrade spoke not, for he had swoonedaway from weakness and loss of blood.

  In Jamie's ears the roar of battle now seemed afar off, like the murmurof a distant stream. The smoke, the enemy and the battle faded from hisvision, for it seemed to him that he still sat in the old school-houseat Burnside, and Jack was beside him, while Dr. Birch, book in hand, wasspeaking of the heroic deeds of ancient days--of Hector and Achilles, ofDiomed and Ajax, of AEneas and Ulysses.