Part 32 (1/2)
As soon as we were near enough, the after-yards were s.h.i.+vered, the jib sheet to windward, and the helm put up. The Calliope worked beautifully; she paid sharp off, and we again pa.s.sed under her stern, and gave another raking broadside; very unexpected on the part of the Dutchman, who presumed that we were going to engage him to windward, and had his men all ready at his larboard guns in consequence.
The Dutch captain was evidently much annoyed: he stood at the taffrail, and, much to our amus.e.m.e.nt, cried out, in bad English, ”You coward--not fight fair.”
As we shot ahead of her, to leeward, she gave us a portion of her starboard broadside: but the men, having been over at the guns on the other side, were not quick enough, and they did us no injury; whereas, her mizzen-mast fell over the side a few minutes after we pa.s.sed her.
She then raid off, and so did we, so that she might not rake us, and broadsides were exchanged on equal terms; but before we had exchanged these broadsides, both s.h.i.+ps running with the wind on the quarter, we found that our superiority in sailing free was so great, that we shot ahead of him out of his fire, and we were enabled to luff up and rake him again.
The last raking broadside brought down his main-topmast and then she was all our own, as Bob Cross said; as she could not round to with no after sail, and we could from our superiority in sailing, take our position as we pleased, which we did, constantly keeping ahead of him, and raking him, broadside after broadside, and receiving but one broadside in return, until his foremast went by the board, and he had nothing but his main-mast standing.
This bettered his condition on the whole; as, although hardly manageable with so little wind, he had more power over his vessel, as far as rounding to the wind, which he did, and the action continued; but our fighting under sail gave us great advantage, and although an occasional shot would come in, and we had to carry some men into the c.o.c.kpit, for one shot we received, we certainly returned ten. The action had continued about an hour, when, by the continual cannonading, the light wind was beaten down, and it fell dead calm. This put us again upon a more equal footing, as the Calliope had not steerage way.
We were then about a quarter of a mile apart, lying head and stern; but both s.h.i.+ps had fallen off during the calm, so that only the quarter guns of each could be brought to bear. The major portion of the s.h.i.+p's company being, therefore, not able to use their guns, were employed in repairing the damages we had received, which were very considerable, especially in the sails and rigging.
I was standing by Bob Cross, who was looking out for cats' paws, as we call slight breaths of wind, when he said in a low voice:--
”Master Keene, I never had an idea that the captain could handle his s.h.i.+p so well: he really knows what he's about as well as any man in the service.”
”I thought so, too,” replied I. ”Whew! there's a nasty shot,” cried I, as one came in and upset half a dozen of the marines, who were hauling upon the mizzen-topsail sheet, which had just been spliced.
”Yes, sir, that chap is made of good stuff, depend upon it--all the Dutchmen are: if they could only keep their hands out of their breeches pockets, they would be rummer customers than they are now; as it is, they are not to be played with; and, depend upon it, we're a long way off having him yet: we must pray for wind to come up and he must pray for the calm to continue.”
”Where's Mr Keene?” said the captain, who was on the other side of the deck.
”Here, sir,” said I, running up and touching my hat.
”Mr Keene, go down quietly and ascertain how many men we have hurt: the doctor will be able to tell you pretty nearly.”
”Aye, aye, sir,” replied I, and I dived down below; just as I did so, a shot came in and cut away the lower rail of the copper stanchions which were round the hatchway, about a foot beyond my hat: had I not gone down so quickly, it would have taken my head off.
I went down into the gun-room, for the doctor preferred being there to the c.o.c.kpit, as there was so much more room to operate, and I gave him the captain's message.
He was very busy taking off a poor fellow's leg. It was a horrible sight and made me sick and faint. As soon us the bone had been sawed off, he said--
”You will find all the wounded I have dressed in the steerage; those they have brought me down dead are in the c.o.c.kpit. There have been five amputations already the master is badly wounded, and Mr Williams the mate, is killed: those whom I have not been able to attend to yet, are here in the gun-room. You must ascertain what the captain wishes to know yourself, Mr Keene. I cannot, leave a leg with the arteries not taken up, to count heads. Mr Rivers, the tenaculum--ease the tourniquet, now.”
As I felt what the doctor said to be true, I got a lantern and commenced my examinations. I found fourteen wounded men waiting the doctor's care in the gun-room, which was almost a pool of blood. In the steerage there were nine who had been dressed, and four in their hammocks, who had undergone amputation of the arm or leg. I then went down into the c.o.c.kpit, where I counted eleven of our best men lying dead. Having obtained the information required, I was proceeding up the c.o.c.kpit ladder, when I turned towards the purser's steward's room, and saw Mr Culpepper, the purser, on his knees before a lantern; he looked very pale--he turned round and saw me.
”What's the matter?” cried he.
”Nothing, sir; only the captain wishes to know how many men are killed and wounded.”
”Tell him I do not know: surely he does not want me on deck?”
”He wants to know how many men are hurt, sir,” replied I, for I perceived that he thought that the message was sent to him.
”Mercy on me! Stop a minute, Mr Keene, and I'll send up word by you.”
”I can't stop, sir,” replied I, going up the ladder.
Mr Culpepper would have called me back, but I preferred leaving him in his error, as I wished to see which he most dreaded, the captain's displeasure or the shot of the enemy.