CAPTAIN CANOT -- BRANTZ MAYER (1854) (Episode 187/376)

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Déjà vu:
so that they were already rather perilously close when I thought it
best to give them the contents of my pivot, which I had crammed almost
to the muzzle with bolts and bullets. The discharge paralyzed the
advance, while my carronades flung a quantity of grape into the
companion boats. In turn, however, they plied us so deftly with balls
from swivels and musketry, that five of our most valuable defenders
writhed in death on the deck.
. . .

The rage of battle at closer quarters than heretofore, and the screams
of bleeding comrades beneath their feet, roused to its fullest extent
the ardent nature of my Spanish crew. They tore their garments;
stripped to their waists; called for rum; and swore they would die
rather than yield!

By this time the consort's reinforcement was rapidly approaching; and,
with hurrah after hurrah, the five fresh boats came on in double
column. As they drew within shot, each cheer was followed with a fatal
volley, under which several more of our combatants were prostrated,
while a glancing musket ball lacerated my knee with a painful wound.
For five minutes we met this onset with cannon, muskets, pistols, and
enthusiastic shouts; but in the despairing confusion of the hour, the
captain of our long gun rammed home his ball before the powder, so
that when the priming burnt, the most reliable of our weapons was
silent forever! At this moment a round shot from the launch dismounted
a carronade;--our ammunition was wasted;--and in this disabled state,
the Britons prepared to board our crippled craft. Muskets, bayonets,
pistols, swords, and knives, for a space kept them at bay, even at
short quarters; but the crowded boats tumbled their enraged fighters
over our forecastle like surges from the sea, and, cutlass in hand,
the victorious furies swept every thing before them. The cry was to
"spare no one!" Down went sailor after sailor, struggling with the
frenzied passion of despair. Presently an order went forth to split
the gratings and release the slaves. I clung to my post and cheered
the battle to the last; but when I heard this fatal command, which, if
obeyed, might bury assailant and defender in common ruin, I ordered
the remnant to throw down their arms, while I struck the flag and
warned the rash and testy Englishman to beware.

The senior officer of the boarding party belonged to the division from
the cruiser's consort. As he reached the deck, his element eye fell
sadly on the scene of blood, and he commanded "quarter" immediately.
It was time. The excited boarders from the repulsed boats had mounted
our deck brimming with revenge. Every one that opposed was cut down
without mercy; and in another moment, it is likely I would have joined
the throng of the departed.

All was over! There was a hushed and panting crowd of victors and
vanquished on the bloody deck, when the red ball of the setting sun
glared through a crimson haze and filled the motionless sea with
liquid fire. For the first time that day I became sensible of personal
sufferings. A stifling sensation made me gasp for air as I sat down on
the taffrail of my captured schooner, and felt that I was--a prisoner!

FOOTNOTE:

[E] It will be understood by the reader, hereafter, why I omit the
cruiser's name.