Humphrey Bold: A Story of the Times of BenbowStrang, Herbert
General
Humphrey Bold: A Story of the Times of Benbow
Strang, Herbert
Benbow, John, 1653?-1702 -- Fiction
The gun spoke, and when the smoke had cleared we saw that the shot
had cut through the Frenchman's mizzen and main weather rigging,
bringing down the top masts with all their hamper of sails. Even to
my inexperienced eye it was clear that the barque was crippled and
lay at our mercy. She still kept her flag flying, however, and as
we drew nearer we could see a throng of soldiers upon her decks,
she being without doubt a transport returning from the French
possessions in the West Indies. She fired a shot or two at us, but
they fell short, her ordnance plainly being no match for ours, so
we had nothing to do but heave to and rake her at our pleasure.
After a couple of broadsides that made havoc on her decks, she
suddenly struck her flag, and of our crew I was perhaps the only
one who did not cheer, for it seemed to me that none but a craven
would have yielded so easily, and I was longing for the excitement
of boarding. We ran up to windward of her, and Captain Cawson,
keeping the port broadside trained on her in case of treachery,
sent an armed boat's crew in charge of the first mate to take
possession of her.
I was not among those who were told off for this duty, but the
fever of adventure had got such a hold upon me that I was hungry to
take a share in what was toward. So I contrived to slip into the
boat at the last moment, at some peril of a ducking, and mounted
the Frenchman's deck with the rest. Then I wished that I had not
been so impetuous, for the sight that met my eye was more terrible
than anything I had ever imagined, and explained the surrender.
Scores of wounded and dying men were strewn over the decks; their
groans and piteous looks turned my heart sick. But such sights were
no new thing to the rest of the crew. They set to work with amazing
coolness to clear the decks, and get the vessel into trim, our
captain having ordered the mate to rig jury masts, under which he
hoped to sail the prize to England.
This seemed to me, I own, an enterprise of much danger, for we were
near the French coast, and might easily fall in with a French
frigate, or even a squadron of the enemy's vessels. But the prize
was exceedingly valuable, and Captain Cawson was no more unwilling
than any other English seaman to run a certain risk. Accordingly
the soldiers and passengers on board the Frenchman were sent below
and battened under hatches, and the crew was made to assist our men
in cutting away the rigging and splicing and setting up the weather
shrouds. The lighter sails were stripped off the foremast, the mate
thinking to bring her into port under mizzen and main sail,
together with all the fore and aft canvas that could be safely set.
'Twas the work of several hours to get things shipshape, the
Dolphin meanwhile lying by to give us countenance and protection.
When all was trim and taut we set a course for our own shores,
following the Dolphin about three cables' lengths astern.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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