Ronald Morton, or the Fire Ships - Part 13
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Part 13

"I don't say as how I 'zactly hates the Frenchmen," observed Mr Rammage, the gunner; "but it's my opinion that the sea is not big enough for both of us, and the sooner we drives them off it, the sooner we shall be friends again."

Ronald had not long to wait before he saw, though chiefly at a distance, one of the most important of England's naval battles. The "Thisbe"

formed one of Lord Howe's fleet, when he gained the glorious victory of the 1st of June which taught the Frenchmen, by a lesson often to be repeated, that they must expect defeat whenever they might venture to contend with England's navy on the ocean.

As the "Thisbe" was employed as a look-out frigate, she took but little part in the action. What she did do, far from damping Ronald's ardour, only made him the more eager to fight again. He had not long to wait.

The "Thisbe," with the rest of the fleet, returned to Spithead to receive the marks of honour the sovereign and the nation showered on the heads of the gallant chiefs, who had led their ships to victory; but before long she was again on a cruise down channel. Rounding Ushant, she steered to the southward, boldly standing along the French coast, and making what the French probably considered a very impertinent examination of their forts and harbours.

She approached the place to be examined during the night, and at early dawn the required information having been obtained, she was again standing off sh.o.r.e, under all sail, before any of the enemy's ships could get under weigh to pursue her. She proceeded as far south as Roch.e.l.le.

Looking one morning into the harbour of that place, a frigate was discovered in the outer roads, apparently ready for sea.

"She seems about our size; if we could draw her out, we might take her,"

observed Captain Courtney to his first lieutenant, Mr Strickland.

"No doubt about it, sir," was the answer; "she is, however, I suspect, rather larger, but so much the better. There is little honour in capturing a Frenchman of one's own size. That we are of course expected to do. We should be thankful when we fall in with an antagonist of superior strength."

"You are right, Strickland," exclaimed the captain, warmly. "Back the maintopsail and fire a gun towards her. The signal of defiance will be understood, and if her captain has a spark of courage, he'll come out and meet us."

With colours flying, the British frigate lay-to off the Frenchman's port. While thus defying the enemy a large schooner was seen standing along sh.o.r.e and apparently making for the harbour.

"We'll take her before their very noses, and if that does not rouse them, I do not know what will," observed the captain, as he gave the orders to make sail in chase.

The schooner, little expecting to be snapped up by an enemy in the very sight of port, endeavoured in vain to escape. The "Thisbe," like an eagle towards its prey, flew after her, and in a short time she was a prize.

Taking out the prisoners and putting a prize crew on board, Captain Courtney stood back, with the schooner in tow, towards the mouth of the harbour; then again firing another shot of defiance, he bore away to the westward.

"The Frenchmen will bear a great deal, but they will not bear that,"

observed Morton to his son. "Before this time tomorrow we shall either be inside that harbour, feeling very much ashamed of ourselves--and I don't think that is likely to happen--or we shall have that frigate in there for our prize, and be standing away with her for old England."

The "Thisbe" had got some eight miles or so away from the land, when the French frigate was seen under sail and standing towards her. Captain Courtney was anxious to draw the enemy as far from the coast as possible, lest, when the hoped-for result of the action should become known, notice might be sent of the event to other ports to the northward, and a superior force despatched to capture him. He accordingly hove-to occasionally, and then stood on to entice the enemy after him.

When the evening closed in, the Frenchman was in sight about two leagues off, coming up astern. The "Thisbe," now casting off the prize, stood towards her. At this time there was no other sail in sight, with the exception of a small boat, apparently a fishing boat, which kept as close as she could to the "Thisbe," possibly to watch what was going to take place.

Captain Courtney's object was, of course, to obtain the weather gauge; and in consequence of having to manoeuvre to obtain it, it was not till past midnight that the two ships got within range of each other's guns.

Not a man of the "Thisbe's" crew had turned in. The drum beat to quarters. The men flew to their stations with pistols in their belts and cutla.s.ses by their sides, eager to begin the fight.

The "Thisbe" was on the starboard tack, when the enemy, on the larboard tack, slowly glided past her to windward, looking like some dark phantom stalking over the surface of the deep.

Ronald, who stood on the forecastle with his father, watched her with intense eagerness. Presently a sheet of flame burst from her side, followed by the loud thunder of the guns and the whizzing of shot. A few came near the English frigate, but none struck her.

"Return the compliment, my lads. Give it them!" exclaimed Captain Courtney.

The crew, with a cheer, obeyed the order, the flashes of their guns throwing a ruddy glow on the bulwarks and the figures of the crew, as stern and grim they stood at their quarters.

"Hands about ship!" was the next order issued; and the "Thisbe," tacking in the wake of her opponent, stood after her.

"Father," asked Ronald, as he stood by Morton's side on the forecastle, "will the Frenchman try to escape us?"

"No fear of that, he would not have come out at first if he had intended to play us that trick," was the answer. "He has made one slight mistake, though; he fancies that he is going to take us; and it's my firm belief that we are going to take him."

"I hope so, father," answered Ronald. "I would sooner die than be taken by a Frenchman."

"That is the right spirit, my boy," exclaimed Rolf, warmly. "But little fear of what will happen--our captain is not a man to throw away a chance of victory."

While they were speaking, the "Thisbe" was rapidly coming up with the enemy; and as her guns could be brought to bear they were fired in quick succession--the French frigate returning them with right good will, though as her shot flew high, the "Thisbe's" masts and spars suffered more than her hull, and few of her men had hitherto been hit.

Morton looked anxiously aloft. "It will be a bad job if they go," he muttered to himself. He then sent Ronald aft to ascertain the condition of the main and mizenmast, which he believed had been struck.

His son soon returned with a very bad report. The masts were already badly wounded.

Soon after this the "Thisbe" got within musket-shot of the starboard quarter of her opponent; and the marines opened their fire, while the firing of the great guns became warmer than ever.

Captain Courtney had never, for a moment, taken his eye off the French ship, that he might watch for the least indication of any manoeuvre she might be about to perform. Suddenly he exclaimed, "Up with the helm!-- square away the after yards!"

Quickly the manoeuvre was executed, though only just in time to prevent the enemy who wore the instant before, from crossing the "Thisbe's"

bows, and pouring in a raking fire. The two frigates now ran on before the wind, closely engaged, broadside to broadside. Fast came the round shot, crashing on board. Splinters from the torn bulwarks were flying about, from aloft some rattling blocks and shattered spars; while showers of bullets were raining down death and wounds in every direction.

Ronald Morton felt his spirits rise to an unnatural pitch as the fight grew hotter and hotter. Not the remotest thought of death, not a shadow of fear crossed his mind. Others were struck down, but those missiles of destruction were not for him. Others might be hit, but he bore a charmed life.

There is something far more terrific and trying to the nerves in a night action than in one fought by day. The dark, mysterious form of the enemy, the flashes of the guns, the irregular glare, the dim light of the fighting lanterns, the cries and groans of the wounded, the uncertainty as to who is. .h.i.t or what damage has been done, all combine to produce an effect which the most desperate fight by day can scarcely exhibit.

The crew of the "Thisbe" could see that their shot was producing great effect on their antagonist. Her masts still stood, but several of her spars were shot away, and her rigging appeared a ma.s.s of wreck. The English frigate was also much injured aloft, but her masts were still standing.

By this time the "Thisbe" had shot ahead of her antagonist. "Starboard the helm!" exclaimed Captain Courtney. "Cease firing, my lads! Be ready to give her a raking broadside as we cross her hawse."

The frigate luffed up into the wind; and, as she did so, her larboard guns were discharged in quick succession into the bows of the Frenchman; but amid the roar of the guns a loud crash was heard, and the mizenmast, unable to bear the additional strain on it, went by the board, but falling to starboard, did not impede the working of the guns. As the crew were running from under it, the tall mainmast was seen to totter, and with all its yards and sails, over it went on the same side. With a groan the boatswain saw what had occurred. He feared, too, that the enemy might escape, as her masts were still standing; but as the "Thisbe's" mainmast went, the French frigate ran stern on to her, on her larboard quarter, her bowsprit pa.s.sing directly across her deck over the capstan.

"She is our own if we can but keep her," exclaimed the boatswain; and, followed by Ronald, he hurried aft, calling to some of his mates to a.s.sist him.

The officers and crew had enough to do at that moment, for the Frenchmen trusting to their number, which appeared to be very great, were swarming on the forecastle, and rushing along the bowsprit with the intention of boarding the "Thisbe."

"Boarders! repel boarders!" shouted the captain, setting the example in attacking the first Frenchmen who presented themselves as they sprang forward.

Now the clash of steel, the sharp report of pistols, intermingled with the roar of the great guns--those on the quarter and main-decks still continuing to pour a destructive fire into the enemy's starboard bow as they could be brought to bear the Frenchmen, from the position in which their ship was placed, being only able to reply with musketry. Their critical position made them rush on and on again with the greatest frenzy, but each time they were driven back with heavy loss, many of them falling overboard from off the bowsprit, or being cut down by the British seamen. Meantime Rolf Morton and his followers were busily engaged in lashing the enemy's bowsprit to their capstan with such ropes as they could lay hands on. Captain Courtney looked round, and saw how they were engaged.

"Admirably done, Mr Morton," he cried out. "Keep her there, and we will give a good account of the Frenchmen in her."

At that moment the enemy, with loud shouts and _sacres_ and other oaths, came rushing forward in greater numbers than before, intending to drop down on the "Thisbe's" deck, and hoping to overwhelm her crew by their numbers. Again they felt the effect of British cutla.s.ses. Desperately as they fought, they were once more driven back with diminished numbers to the ship. In vain the Frenchmen endeavoured to free their ship from the position in which they had placed her. The "Thisbe" stood on, towing them after her. Scarcely one of their guns could be brought to bear, but the marines, however, kept up a hot and destructive fire of musketry on the deck of the frigate, from the tops as well as from some of her quarter-deck guns which had been run in midships fore and aft.

Though the darkness prevented their taking good aim, no sooner was it known that the bowsprit was being made fast to the capstan of the English frigate, than the whole of their fire was turned in that direction. The lashings were not yet completed. Showers of bullets fell around the brave men engaged in the work. Several had fallen. The boatswain did not think of himself, but he dreaded lest his son should be hit. He was considering on what message he should send him to another part of the ship, when he felt a sharp blow, his fingers relaxed from the rope he was grasping, and he fell to the deck. He had the feeling that he had received his death wound. Ronald saw what had happened, and in an instant was on his knees supporting his father's head.

What thought he then of the fierce contest raging? What did he care who gained the victory? All his feelings were concentrated on his father.

Was he mortally wounded, or would he recover? He entreated some of the men to carry him below, but they were at that moment too much occupied to attend to him. Rolf recovered slightly.

"No, no, boy; let me remain here," he said in a firm voice. "All hands have work enough to do; I am but hit in the leg, and if they would set me on my feet again I could still be of use."

But Ronald did not heed him, and continued imploring the men to carry the boatswain below. Just then the lashings were torn away, and the French frigate floated clear of the "Thisbe." Cries of disappointment escaped from the English crew, but they redoubled their efforts to cripple their opponent, so as once more to get hold of her. Meantime several of the men, being now at liberty, offered to take the boatswain below, but he desired to be left on deck.

"I'll see the fight out, lads," he answered. "Help me up, some of you, and pa.s.s this handkerchief round the limb. Cheer up, Ronald, I'm not so badly hurt as you fancy, boy."