t
paralysed their defence. Some jumped overboard; others threw down
their arms and ran below. The fight, though short, had been so fierce
that the deck was simply strewn with bodies. Many of the French who
had retreated below renewed the fight there; they tried to blow up the
quarter-deck with gunpowder in their desperation, and the British had
to fight a new battle between decks with half their force while the
ship was slowly getting under weigh. The fire of the batteries was
furious, but, curiously enough, no important spar was struck, though
some of the boats towing alongside were sunk. And while the batteries
thundered overhead, and the battle still raged on the decks below, the
British seamen managed to set every sail on the ship, and even got
topgallant yards across. Slowly the _Chevrette_ drew out of the
harbour. Just then some boats were discovered pulling furiously up
through the darkness; they were taken to be French boats bent on
recapture, and Maxwell's almost exhausted seamen were summoned to a new
conflict. The approaching boats, however, turned out to be the
detachment under Lieutenant Losack, who came up to find the work done
and the _Chevrette_ captured.

The fight on the deck of the _Chevrette_ had been of a singularly
deadly character. The British had a total of 11 killed and 57 wounded;
the Chevrette lost 92 killed and 62 wounded, amongst the slain being
the _Chevrette's_ captain, her two lieutenants, and three midshipmen.
Many stories are told of the daring displayed by British seamen in this
attack. The boatswain of the _Beaulieu_, for example, boarded the
_Chevrette's_ taffrail; he took one glance along the crowded decks,
waved his cutlass, shouted "Make a lane there!" and literally carved
his way through to the forecastle, which he cleared of the French, and
kept clear, in spite of repeated attacks, while he assisted to cast the
ship about and make sail with as much coolness as though he had been on
board the _Beaulieu_. Wallis, who fought his way to the helm of the
_Chevrette_, and, though wounded, kept his post with iron coolness
while the fight raged, was accosted by his officer when the fight was
over with an expression of sympathy for his wounds. "It is only a
prick or two, sir," said Wallis, and he added he "was ready to go out
on a similar expedition the next night." A boatswain's mate named Ware
had his left arm cut clean off by a furious slash of a French sabre,
and fell ba