We had got to windward of the fleet, and the helm being put up, we edged
down towards the brig which it had been determined to take. In dead
silence we approached our victim. As we drew near, the stranger
observed us, and her people must have suspected that all was not right.
He hailed, and inquired what schooner we were.
"The French schooner _Concorde_," answered our captain, who knew that a
vessel of that name had been out in the West Indies. For a short time
the answer seemed to satisfy the Frenchmen; but seeing us approach still
nearer, they hailed again, and told us to keep off.
Captain Savage did not deign a reply, but our grappling-irons being
ready, our helm was put hard a starboard, we ran alongside the brig, and
had her fast locked in a deadly embrace.
Although the Frenchmen's suspicions had been aroused, they had made no
preparations to receive us; yet as we ran her on board, we saw that
there were numbers of people on her deck. "Follow me, my lads!" shouted
Mr Le Gosselen, who saw that to secure an easy victory there was no
time to be lost; and before any of the Frenchmen had time to stand to
their arms, some fifty of us had sprung on their deck and attacked them,
previously driving some overboard, others fore and aft, and the rest
below. The greater number of our opponents seemed to be soldiers, by
their dress and the way they fought. In vain their officers called to
them to stand firm, and tried to rally them to the last; they themselves
were pistolled or cut down, and in less than five minutes we were
masters of the whole deck, with the exception of the after-part of the
poop. Here a band of men stood firm, evidently surrounding a person of
superior rank. He fought like a lion, and was likely to delay our
victory, or to prevent it altogether. Seeing this, Captain Savage, who
was himself the best swordsman I ever met, calling twenty of us to
follow him, sprang on board over the quarter; and thus attacked in front
and on one side, the French officers were driven across the deck. A
blow from Captain Savage's cutlass brought their chief on his knee. At
that moment a piercing shriek arose high above the din of battle. How
mournful! how full of agony it sounded! We had not before perceived a
woman standing alone and unharmed among the wounded, the dead, and the
dying, for not one of those who had opposed us had escaped.
"Spare my father's life! hurt not more his grey hairs!" she cried out in
French.
"That depends on circumstances, mademoiselle," answered the captain of
the privateer. "Here, my lads; carry the lady and the old man on board
the schooner out of harm's way; we must secure the brig before we think
of anything else."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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