[8]Inside Isle de Rhé, off the coast of France, close to La Rochelle.
[8]Inside Isle de Rhé, off the coast of France, close to La Rochelle.
[9]Perhaps Mr. William Foster is responsible for the story here told by the Antigallican narrator, that Anson "had no hand in the matter. That morning he desired a council of war, but Sir Peter Warren told him, 'There are French colours flying! which is a sufficient council of war'; and so bore down upon them, while his lordship lay at a distance." Anson, however, received his peerage for this very action—he was not "his lordship" when he fought it; Warren was knighted at the same time.
[9]Perhaps Mr. William Foster is responsible for the story here told by the Antigallican narrator, that Anson "had no hand in the matter. That morning he desired a council of war, but Sir Peter Warren told him, 'There are French colours flying! which is a sufficient council of war'; and so bore down upon them, while his lordship lay at a distance." Anson, however, received his peerage for this very action—he was not "his lordship" when he fought it; Warren was knighted at the same time.
CAPTAIN DEATH, OF THE "TERRIBLE"
One of the bloodiest privateer actions on record was that between theTerrible, owned in London, and theVengeance, of St. Malo.
TheTerriblecarried 26 guns, with a crew of 200 men, and was commanded by Captain Death. She was cruising off the mouth of the Channel at the end of the year 1756, and had had some success, capturing an armed French cargo ship, theAlexandre le Grand, (the narrator very simply translates this "Grand Alexander"!), which she was escorting into Plymouth, with a prize crew of an officer—the first lieutenant—and fifteen men, when on December 27th, at daylight, two sails were sighted to the southward, about twelve miles distant. Some communication was observed to take place between the two vessels, and then the larger one steered for theTerribleand her prize, which was far astern, so that theTerriblewas obliged to back her mizzen-topsail and wait for her.
Meanwhile, every preparation was made for action; but, from the absence of the prize crew and other causes, no more than 116 men out of 200 were ableto stand to the guns; indeed, the narrator, who was third lieutenant of theTerrible, tells rather a sad story of her crew—"the rest being either dead or sick below with a distemper called the spotted fever, that raged among the ship's company." This may have been malignant typhus, or the plague, terribly infectious; and there would be great reluctance to handle the dead bodies—hence some of these were left below.
The enemy approached, as was usually the practice, under English colours until within close range, when she shortened sail and hoisted French colours. TheTerriblewas ready for her, with her starboard guns manned, and the prize had by this time come up; but she was a clumsy sailer, deep-laden, and fell off from the wind; so the Frenchman got in between them, gave the prize a broadside, and then, ranging close up on theTerrible'sport quarter, delivered a most destructive fire, diagonally across her deck, killing and wounding a great number. So close were the two ships, that the yardarms almost touched, and theTerrible'speople, in spite of the awful battering they had just received, returned a broadside of round and grape, which was equally destructive. For five or six minutes they surged along side by side, while each disposed his dead and wounded, and a touch of the helm would have run either vessel aboard her opponent. The Frenchmen, more numerous in spite of their losses, might have boarded, and the "Terribles" were in momentary expectation of it—but they held off, and the English did not find themselves strong enough to attempt it. Separating again,they exchanged a murderous fire at close range, the casualties being very heavy on both sides.
The French ship had, however, one great advantage at such close quarters; in each "top" she had eight or ten small-arm men, who were able to fire down upon theTerrible'sdeck, and pick off whom they would—the latter was too short-handed to spare any men for this purpose.
This slaughter, to which they were unable to reply, really decided the action. Every man in sight was either killed or miserably wounded—the captain and the third lieutenant escaped for some time, but the latter was grazed on his cheek, and the captain, he states, was shot through the body after he had struck his flag. This is a very common accusation, and no doubt it has often been true, though probably only through a misapprehension; men who are blazing away and being shot at in a hot action do not always know or realise at the moment that the enemy has struck, and so some poor fellow loses his life unnecessarily.
It was too hot to last. The enemy was a ship of considerably superior force, and probably had three times the number of theTerrible'savailable crew at the commencement of the action. On board the English vessel nearly one hundred men were dead or wounded, the decks were cumbered with their bodies, and only one officer was left untouched; they had not a score of men left to fight the ship, and the enemy continued to pour in a pitiless fire, which at length brought the mainmast by the board.
Captain Death, a brave man, could then see no course but to surrender, having put up a very gallant fight; and so he ordered down the colours, and was then, as is said, fatally wounded by a musket-ball.
Then follows a dismal story of the treatment of the English prisoners, which we may hope, for the sake of French humanity and generosity, is somewhat exaggerated—as we know that such things can be, under the smart of defeat and surrender: "They turned our first lieutenant and all our people down in a close, confined place forward the first night that we came on board, where twenty-seven men of them were stifled before morning; and several were hauled out for dead, but the air brought them to life again; and a great many of them died of their wounds on board theTerriblefor want of care being taken of them, which was out of our doctor's power to do, the enemy having taken his instruments and medicine from him. Several that were wounded they heaved overboard alive."
If this is a true account one shudders to think what may have been the fate of those unhappy, plague-stricken men below—probably brought up and hove overboard in a ferocious panic!
The French ship was named theVengeance, of 36 guns and about 400 men; so there was no discredit to Captain Death in yielding, after such a plucky resistance. The merchants of London opened a subscription at Lloyd's Coffee House for his widow and the widows of the crew, and for the survivors, who had suffered the loss of all their possessions.
This desperate fight was much talked about at the time, and inspired some rhymester, whose name has not come down to us, to compose the following:
CAPTAIN DEATH
The muse and the hero together are fir'd,The same noble views has their bosom inspir'd;As freedom they love, and for glory contend,The muse o'er the hero still mourns as a friend;So here let the muse her poor tribute bequeath,To one British hero—'tis brave Captain Death.The ship was theTerrible—dreadful to see!His crew was as brave and as valiant as he.Two hundred or more was their full complement,And sure braver fellows to sea never went.Each man was determined to spend his last breathIn fighting for Britain and brave Captain Death.A prize they had taken diminish'd their force,And soon the brave ship was lost in her course.The French privateer and theTerriblemet,The battle began with all horror beset.No heart was dismayed, each bold as Macbeth;The sailors rejoiced, so did brave Captain Death.Fire, thunder, balls, bullets were soon heard and felt,A sight that the heart of Bellona would melt.The shrouds were all torn and the decks fill'd with blood.And scores of dead bodies were thrown in the flood.The flood, from the time of old Noah and Seth,Ne'er saw such a man as our brave Captain Death.At last the dread bullet came wing'd with his fate;Our brave captain dropped, and soon after his mate.Each officer fell, and a carnage was seen,That soon dy'd the waves to a crimson from green;Then Neptune rose up, and he took off his wreath,And gave it a triton to crown Captain Death.Thus fell the strongTerrible, bravely and bold,But sixteen survivors the tale can unfold.The French were the victors, tho' much to their cost,For many brave French were with Englishmen lost.For thus says old Time, "Since Queen Elizabeth,I ne'er saw the fellow of brave Captain Death."
There is another poetic effusion on the subject, under the title "The Terrible Privateer"; but it is such halting doggrel that the reader shall be spared the transcription; with the exception of the last verse, which breathes such a blunt British spirit that it would be a pity to omit it:
Here's a health unto our British fleet.Grant they with these privateers may meet,And have better luck than theTerrible,And sink those Mounsiers all to hell.
TheVengeancewas, in fact, captured about twelve months later by theHussar, a man-of-war, after a stout resistance, in which she lost heavily; it is impossible, however, to say how far the devout aspiration of the poet was fulfilled!
MR. PETER BAKER AND THE "MENTOR"
In the Reading-room of the Free Library in Liverpool there hangs an oil-painting, of which a reproduction is here given, illustrating an incident whichoccurred during the American War of Secession, in 1778.
Liverpool merchants and shipowners were very active at that time in the fitting out of privateers; and some, or one of them, entered into a contract with one Peter Baker to build a vessel for this purpose. Now, Baker does not appear to have had the necessary training and experience to qualify him as a designer and builder of ships. He had served a short apprenticeship with some employer in the neighbourhood of Garston, near Liverpool, and had then worked as a carpenter in Liverpool, eventually becoming a master. However, he set to work to fulfil his contract; but he turned out of hand such a sorry specimen of a ship—clumsy, ill-built, lopsided, and with sailing qualities more suited to a haystack than a smart privateer—that the prospective owner refused her, throwing her back on his hands—a very serious matter for Peter Baker, who was heavily in debt over the venture.
Strangely enough, this apparent calamity proved to be the making of him.
Despairing of paying his debts, he resolved upon the somewhat desperate course of fitting out the ship as a venture of his own, and contrived to obtain sufficient credit for this purpose. Probably his creditors agreed to give him this chance, as the privateers not infrequently made considerable sums of money.
Baker did not, however, aspire to the post of privateer captain; he appointed to the command his son-in-law, John Dawson, who had made several voyages to the coast of Africa, and knew enough about navigation to get along somehow. The vessel measured 400 tons, carried 28 guns, and shipped a crew of 102 men; but they were a very queer lot: loafers picked up on the docks, landsmen in search of adventure, and so on. With this unpromising outfit—a lopsided, heavy-sailing vessel, an inexperienced commander, and a crew of incapable desperadoes—Peter Baker entered upon his privateering venture, and in due course theMentor, provided, no doubt, with a king's commission, proceeded down the Irish Sea, hanging about in the chops of the Channel for homeward bound French merchantmen. Dawson was not very persistent or enterprising, for we are told that in something under a week he was on the point of returning, not having as yet come across anything worthy of his powder and shot. Falling in with another privateer, homeward bound, he made the usual inquiry as to whether she had seen anything, either in the way of a likely prize or a formidable enemy; and was informed that a large vessel, either a Spanish 74-gun ship, or Spanish East Indiaman, had been seen just previously in a given latitude.
Dawson thereupon resolved to put his fortune to the test—"For," said he, "I might as well be in a Spanish prison as an English one, and if I return empty I shall most likely be imprisoned for debt." So he made sail after the assumed Spaniard, and found her readily enough; as he closed, he made out through his glass that she was pierced for 74 guns, and was, of course, in every respect a far more formidable craft than the lopsidedMentor. Handing theglass to his carpenter, John Baxter, evidently an observant and intelligent man, the latter exclaimed that the stranger's guns were all dummies!
Thereupon John Dawson bore down to the attack, boarded the enemy, and carried her, with his harum-scarum crew, almost unopposed.
She proved to be a French East Indiaman, theCarnatic, with a most valuable cargo—said to be worth pretty nearly half a million sterling. One box of diamonds alone was valued at £135,000.
the 'invention'
CAPTURE OF THE FRENCH EAST INDIAMEN "CARNATIC"
The crew had been three years in the vessel, trading in gold and diamonds, and did not even know that war had broken out.
Here was a piece of luck for Peter Baker! When the rich prize was brought into the Mersey, in charge of the proud and happy Dawson and his crew, bells were set ringing, guns were fired, and both captors and victors were entertained in sumptuous fashion by the delighted townspeople. Baker became, of course, immediately a person of importance: he was jocosely alluded to as "Lord Baker," and was later elected Mayor of Liverpool and made a county magistrate.
He proceeded to build himself a large house at Mossley Hill, outside Liverpool, which either he or some facetious friend dubbed "Carnatic Hall"; it was partially destroyed by fire later on, and rebuilt by the present owners, Holland by name.
Baker and Dawson entered into partnership as shipbuilders, and the uncouth but luckyMentorcontinued her cruising, capturing two or three moreprizes of trifling value. In 1782, however, while on her passage home from Jamaica, she foundered off the Banks of Newfoundland, thirty-one of her crew perishing.
Such is the story of Peter Baker's sudden rise of fortune, illustrating the extraordinary uncertainty of those privateering times. Baker had, so to speak, no business to succeed; one cannot help regarding him, in the first instance, as something of an impostor in undertaking to build a ship under the circumstances—for we may be sure that she was not rejected without good reason; but she caused all this to be forgotten by one piece of good luck. Her fortunate builder and owner died in 1796.
CAPTAIN EDWARD MOOR, OF THE "FAME"
A privateer commander of the best type was Captain Edward Moor, of theFame, hailing from Dublin. His vessel carried 20 six-pounders and some smaller pieces, and a crew of 108 men. It was in August 1780, when he was cruising off the coast of Spain and the northern coast of Africa, that he received news of the departure of five ships from Marseilles, bound for the West Indies: all armed vessels, and provided with fighting commissions of some kind—letters of marque, as they are styled.
Being a man of good courage, and not afraid of such trifling odds as five to one, Moor went in search of these Frenchmen; and on August 25th he was luckyenough to sight them, off the coast of Spain. As dusk was approaching he refrained from any demonstration of hostility, but took care, during the night, to get inshore of the enemy.
At daybreak they were about six miles distant, and, upon seeing theFameapproach in a businesslike manner, they formed in line to receive her.
Adopting similar tactics to those of George Walker in attacking eight vessels—perhaps purposely following the example of a man who had such a great name, and whose exploits were sure to be known among privateersmen[10]—Moor bade his men lie down at their guns, and not fire until he gave the word.
At half-past six they were within gunshot, and the Frenchmen opened fire; but theFameswept on in silence until she was close to the largest ship; then they blazed away, and in three quarters of an hour she surrendered. Without a moment's delay Moor tackled the next in size, which also shortly succumbed. Putting an officer and seven men on board, with orders to look afterbothships—what glorious confidence in his men!—he went after the others, which were now endeavouring to escape; only one succeeded, however, though one would have imagined that, by scattering widely, they might have saved another. These two fugitives made no further resistance, and Captain Moor thus got four ships, to wit—Deux Frères, 14 guns, 50 men;Univers, 12 guns, 40 men;Zephyr(formerly a British sloop-of-war, according to Beatson's "Memoirs"), 10 guns, 32 men;andNancy, 4 guns, 18 men—a total of 40 guns and 140 men, against his 26 guns and 108 men. The Frenchmen certainly ought to have made it hotter for him; but probably their crews were not trained, and Moor evidently had his men well in hand, just as Walker had.
He took his prizes into Algiers, where he landed the prisoners, who gave such a good account of the kind and generous treatment they had received from their captors that the French Consul-General at Algiers wrote a very handsome letter to Moor, expressing in the strongest terms his appreciation of his conduct.
This Edward Moor was evidently one of those commanders like Walker and Wright; a gentleman by birth and instinct, combining the highest courage with refinement of mind and humanity; he would have been well employed in the Royal Navy.
CAPTAIN JAMES BORROWDALE, OF THE "ELLEN"
Earlier in this same year, 1780, a Bristol ship made a very brilliant capture. This was theEllen, an armed merchantman, provided with a letter of marque. She carried 18 six-pounders and a crew of 64, half of them boys and landsmen on their first voyage. She was commanded by James Borrowdale, a careful man, who, while fully aware that he was expected to make as good a passage as possible, and refrain from engaging in combat unless it was forced uponhim, took some pains to ensure that, in such event, the foe should not have a walk-over.
He had as passenger one Captain Blundell, of the 79th—Liverpool—Regiment, going out to join his regiment in Jamaica; and this gentleman, in order, no doubt, to beguile the tedium of the voyage, undertook to train sixteen of the crew to act as marines—hoping, probably, for an opportunity of proving their metal; and he was not disappointed.
A month out, on April 16th, a ship was sighted to windward, apparently of much the same size and force as theEllen. Captain Borrowdale, with all his canvas set to catch the Trade-wind, stood on, apparently unheeding the approach of the stranger; but his men had the guns cast loose and loaded, and Blundell, with his little band of amateur marines, was very much on the alert.
Arriving within gunshot, the stranger fired a gun, hoisting Spanish colours; upon which Borrowdale shortened sail, seeing that it was impossible to avoid a fight, and hoisted American colours, to gain time; for his idea was to commence the action at very close quarters.
He then addressed his crew, bidding them ram down a bag of grape-shot into every gun—on top of the round shot, of course—to keep cool, and reserve their fire for close quarters, keeping the guns trained on the enemy meanwhile; to fire as quickly as possible, and to fight the ship to the last extremity.
When the other was within hailing distance down came the American colours, up went the English, anda deadly broadside was delivered, accompanied by a well-directed volley from Blundell's contingent. So effective, in fact, was the sudden and vigorous attack, that it quite staggered the Spaniards, who fell into confusion, neglecting the proper handling of their vessel, so that she fell off from the wind and got under theEllen'slee; upon which the other broadside was poured into her. The Spanish captain, imagining that he had only an ordinary armed trader to deal with—and many of them were very poor fighters—had perhaps not made full preparation for action; at any rate, he and his men were so demoralised by these two broadsides that he put his helm up and ran for it. The English captain, having successfully defended his ship, might now have pursued his voyage, without any loss of credit, that being his business; but no such idea entered his head. The crew gave three hearty cheers as they trimmed and cracked on sail, and the Spaniard, having sustained some damage aloft, was unable to escape. Running alongside, theEllenattacked again, and the action was maintained for an hour and a half, the two vessels running yardarm to yardarm; and then, theEllen'sfire having completely disabled the foe aloft, the Spanish colours came down, and Captain Borrowdale found himself in possession of theSanta Anna Gratia, a Spanish sloop-of-war, mounting 16 heavy six-pounders and a number of swivels, with a crew of 104 men, of whom seven were killed and eight wounded; theEllenhad only one killed and three wounded; but these small losses were doubtless owing to the two vessels mutuallyaiming at the spars and rigging, each endeavouring to cripple her opponent aloft.
This was a very brilliant little affair, and Borrowdale and his merry men must have felt very well pleased with themselves as they sailed into Port Royal, Jamaica, the prize in company, with the English colours surmounting the Spanish.
[10]The account of George Walker's exploits comes later on.
[10]The account of George Walker's exploits comes later on.
FORTUNATUS WRIGHT
Surely the fairies must have been busy with suggestions at the birth and naming of this fighting seaman—great seaman and determined fighter, and withal a smack of romantic heroism about him, which is suggested at once by his Christian name—Fortunatus. No man with such a name, one is disposed to assume, could be an ordinary and commonplace sort of person, muddling along in the well-worn grooves of every-day life. This, of course, would be an absurd assumption; men have been named after all kinds of heroes, naval and military, statesmen, masters of the pen, and so on, and have fallen very far short—to put it mildly—of the aspirations of their fond and admiring parents.
Wright's father was a master-mariner of Liverpool, of whom we are told that he had upon one occasion defended his ship most gallantly for several hours against two vessels of superior force—an exploit which is recorded upon his tombstone in St. Peter's churchyard, Liverpool, and from which we gather that he was either a privateer commander, or that his vessel, an ordinary trader, was armed for thepurpose of defence. We do not know, however, why he named his son Fortunatus—we can only fall back upon the fairies; but a supplementary inscription upon the tombstone tells us that "Fortunatus Wright, his son, was always victorious, and humane to the vanquished. He was a constant terror to the enemies of his king and country"; and that is a very good sort of epitaph; moreover—unlike many such effusions, recording amiable or heroic characteristics of the dead which few had been able to recognise in the living—it is a true one. If not always victorious—and a probably true story, presently to be narrated, appears to point to one instance, at least, in which he and his antagonist parted indecisively—he was, at any rate, never beaten; and his conduct and character obtained for him, from a brave seaman and fighter of his own stamp, who sailed under him, the epithet, "that great hero, Fortunatus Wright"; the actual words, by the way, are "that great but unfortunate hero," and herein is an allusion, no doubt, to some very ungenerous treatment meted out to Wright by foreign authorities, and also to his unknown, and probably tragic, fate.
We have but little information concerning his early manhood; there is not, indeed, any evidence to hand of even the approximate date of his birth. Smollett, in his "History of England," alludes to Wright's exploits, and describes him as "a stranger to a sea-life," until he took to privateering in the Mediterranean; but it is not easy to see upon what grounds the historian bases such an assumption.Fortunatus Wright was, as we have seen, the son of a sea-captain of no ordinary stamp, and the probability is that he would be brought up in his father's calling—a probability which becomes, practically, a certainty when we reflect that, immediately upon assuming the position of privateer commander, he displayed a consummate skill in seamanship, combined with remarkable tactical powers in sea-fighting, which elicited the enthusiastic admiration of his subordinates; and these qualifications are not acquired on land.
No; Fortunatus Wright was undoubtedly trained as a seaman, and very possibly a privateersman; but it appears that, somewhere about the year 1741, having previously retired from the sea, and settled in Liverpool as a shipowner, he realised his business, and went to reside abroad; and in 1742 we come across news of him in Italy.
Mr. (afterwards Sir) Horace Mann, at that time British Resident at the Court of Florence, in a letter to his friend Horace Walpole—with whom he kept up an enormous correspondence—relates how he had had complaints concerning the violent conduct of Mr. Wright at Lucca. It appears that our friend, travelling in that part of Italy, with introductions to some of the nobility, presented himself one day at the gates of Lucca, never doubting but that, as a respectable and peaceably disposed person, he would immediately be admitted. He had not reckoned, however, with the particular form of "red tape" which prevailed there. He had upon him a pair of pistols; and, upon being informed that the surrenderof these weapons was the condition of being permitted to pass the gates, his English choler immediately rose against what appeared to him to be a tyrannical and unnecessary proceeding; and his natural instinct being—as it always is in fighting men of his stamp—rather to beat down and override opposition than to yield to it, disregarding the serious odds against him—twenty soldiers and a corporalversusFortunatus Wright—he presented one of the offending pistols at the guard, and clearly indicated that the first man who endeavoured to arrest him would do so at the cost of his life. This was very awkward; no one cared to be the first victim of the "mad Englishman," who was evidently a man of his word, and how it might have ended nobody knows, had there not appeared upon the scene a superior officer—a colonel—with thirty more soldiers. Mr. Wright was thereupon persuaded that the odds were too heavy even for a "mad Englishman," and was escorted to his hotel by this imposing bodyguard, being there made a prisoner while representations were made to the English Ambassador.
Fortunately, one of the Luccese noblemen to whom he had an introduction intervened, undertaking that no harm should result; and on the morning of the fourth day, at the early hour of four, the irate Englishman was informed that since he had been so daring as to endeavour to enter the town by force of arms, it was therefore ordered that he should forthwith leave the State, and never presume to enter it again without leave from the Republic; and thatpost-horses, with a guard to see him over the border, were waiting at the door.
"He answered a great deal," says Sir Horace Mann, "not much to the purpose"; and so was seen safely out of Lucca, with his pistols in his pocket, we may presume, swearing at the unreasonableness of Italians and their laws. He continued, however, to reside in Italy, and was living at Leghorn when, in 1744, war was declared with France; and then there came to Fortunatus Wright the imperative call to return to a seafaring life.
The war had not been long in progress before the English merchants in Leghorn began to suffer immense annoyance and loss from the depredations of the French privateers which swarmed upon the coast of Italy. Their trade was stifled, their ships compelled to remain in port, or almost inevitably captured if they ventured out; apparently there were not men-of-war available for escort, and the situation became unbearable.
When men have come to the conclusion that things are past bearing they look about for some drastic remedy, and in this instance Mr. Wright was the remedy; Mr. Wright, living quietly in Leghorn, with his wife and family, but with his sea-lore available at the back of his mind, and, for all we know, the love of the salt water tugging at his heart-strings—sailors are made that way. Why not fit out a privateer, and place Mr. Wright in command? The suggestion may, indeed, have come from him in the first instance; at any rate, no time was lost. There was a vesselavailable, to wit theFame, a staunch brigantine. We have no precise details of her tonnage and force, but she was undoubtedly an efficient craft for the purpose, and Wright speedily demonstrated that he was an entirely fit and proper person to be placed in charge.
Carefully studying the winds of the Mediterranean, and the probable track of the enemy's privateers and merchant vessels, he had his plan of action matured by the time the ship was ready; and this is how it is set forth by William Hutchinson, one of his officers, writing thirty years later:
"Cruising the war before last, in the employ of that great but unfortunate hero, Fortunatus Wright, in the Mediterranean Sea, where the wind blows generally either easterly or westerly—that is, either up or down the Straits—it was planned, with either of these winds that blew, to steer up or down the channels the common course, large or before the wind in the daytime without any sail set, that the enemy's trading ships astern, crowding sail with this fair wind, might come up in sight, or we come in sight of those ships ahead that might be turning to windward; and at sunset, if nothing appeared to the officer at the masthead, we continued to run five or six leagues, so far as could then be seen, before we laid the ship to for the night, to prevent the ships astern coming up and passing out of sight before the morning, or our passing those ships that might be turning to windward; and if nothing appeared to an officer at the masthead at sunrise, we bore away and steered asbefore. And when the wind blew across the channel, that ships could sail their course either up or down, then to keep the ship in a fair way; in the daytime to steer the common course, under the courses and lower staysails, and in the night under topsails with the courses in the brails, with all things as ready as possible for action, and to take or leave what we might fall in with."
Before many months had elapsed the soundness of these tactics, and the sagacity with which Wright determined what to take and what to leave, were very conspicuous.
In the months of November and December, 1746, theFamehad to her credit no fewer than eighteen prizes, one of which was a privateer, of 200 tons, with 20 guns and 150 men, fitted out by the French factories on the coast of Caramania, with the express object of putting a stop to the inconveniently successful cruising of Fortunatus Wright, who, however, turned the tables upon her, sending her as a prize into Messina. The Frenchmen, to avoid being taken prisoners, had run her on shore and decamped; but the English captain was not going to be deprived of the prize-money which he and his men had justly earned, so they set to work and got the vessel afloat again, in order that she might be produced and duly condemned as "good prize."
Wright's success, both in fighting and in the pursuit of traders, infuriated the French, and particularly the Knights of St. John, in Malta, where there was very hot antagonism between the two factions—theFrench and Spaniards on one side, and the Austrians and English on the other.
When Wright kept on sending in his prizes the Austrians would "chaff" the French. "Here's another of your ships coming in, under the care of Captain Wright," we can imagine them saying. Some duels were fought by angry officers, and eventually the French sent urgent representations to Marseilles, and a vessel was fitted out and manned with the express object of humiliating the English by capturing theFameand putting a stop to Wright's victorious career.
In due course the privateer put in an appearance at Malta. She was of considerably superior force to theFame, the captain was a man of repute as a seaman and fighter, and was entertained by the French, who patted him on the back and sent him forth to conquer.
But it is never safe to pat a man on the back for prospective triumphs.
As the days passed excitement and expectation became intense; the points of vantage, whence a good view of incoming vessels could be obtained, were thronged with anxious spectators of both factions; and we may suppose that there was a considerable amount of mutual banter, not in the best of good-humour.
At length two vessels were sighted; as they approached it was seen that one was towing the other. Then the French privateer was recognised, and it was noticed that the other vessel, in tow, was very much knocked about. While conjecture was ripening into triumphant conviction up went the colours—French colours! That decided the question—the career of the obnoxious Wright—"ce cher Wright," sarcastically—was at an end, and the enthusiastic Frenchmen shook hands and embraced, and waved hats and handkerchiefs to the victor.
There was one delightful characteristic of "ce cher Wright," however, which they had failed to realise—he was possessed of a very keen sense of humour. In spite of the shattered condition of the staunch littleFame, she had come off victorious, and Wright had very naturally placed her in tow of the larger vessel, which he himself was navigating, her crew his prisoners of war; and seeing the crowded ramparts from afar, this agreeable but unsuspected little trait of his had displayed itself in the hoisting of French colours.
Then, when the cheering and embracing was at its climax, as the vessels rounded the fort, the English colours sailed up to the peak, with the French below!
And then—well, then we may imagine that there was the making of some more duels!
Fortunatus Wright was no mere filibustering swashbuckler, like so many other privateer commanders who, as we have seen, brought their calling into sad disrepute; nor was he a man to be intimidated by his crew into committing any unlawful act for the sake of plunder; but he was very tenacious of his rights, and on more than one occasion came to serious loggerheads with high authorities; very much, eventually, to his cost.
In December 1746, while reports were going home of his numerous captures, he overhauled and seizeda French vessel, on a voyage from Marseilles to Naples, having on board the servants and all the luggage and belongings of the Prince of Campo Florida. The French skipper produced a pass, from no less a person than King George II. of England, by which these persons and goods should be exempt from molestation by English cruisers; but there was a flaw in this document, for the name of the ship was not entered upon it. "All very well," said Wright, "but how am I to know that King George intended this ship to go free? She is not named on the safe-conduct"; and into Leghorn she went as a prize, prince's servants, baggage, and all, to the horror of the British Consul, and to the great disgust of the Prince of Campo Florida; nor would Wright listen to the remonstrances of the Consul, maintaining that he was technically justified in his action; and there was undoubtedly some ground for this contention. However, the British Minister persuaded him to refer the matter to the Admiral commanding on the station, by whose adverse decision Wright loyally abided, and the vessel was released accordingly.
It was a much more serious affair when, in 1747, he fell out with the Turkey Company—officially known as "The Company of English Merchants trading to the Levant Sea"—a very wealthy and powerful organisation, jealous of its rights, and somewhat perturbed, moreover, at this particular period, by the falling off in its returns; so that it was exceedingly annoying to find Turkish goods being seized by Captain Wright on board French ships.
There were two vessels in question, and the English Consul at Leghorn received orders from home to investigate the business. With his previous experience of the privateer captain's stiffness and command of technical knowledge of prize law, the Consul, we may be sure, did not anticipate an easy acquiescence in any suggestions he might make; and, in fact, Wright's reply was a very decided refusal to admit that he was in fault. He said that both ships had a French pass, hailed from Marseilles, and hoisted French colours; and one of them offered a stout resistance before she struck. "For these reasons I brought them to Leghorn, and have had them legally condemned in the Admiralty Court, by virtue of which sentence I have disposed of them and distributed the money."
Quite an unassailable position, one would imagine; but the irate Governors of the Turkey Company were able to procure, by some means or other, an order from the English Government that Turkish cargoes in French vessels were to be exempt from capture. Upon this order being communicated to the privateer captains and Admiralty Courts in the Mediterranean, it was expected that Wright would refund the prize-money; but he, very properly, as it appears, refused to admit that such an order could be retrospective—he had the money, and meant to keep it; and then there was trouble. Orders were sent from England to have him arrested and sent home; the Italian authorities obligingly caught him and locked him up, refusing, with singular and gratuitous crookedness, to yield him up to consular jurisdiction—and there he remained in prison at Leghorn for six months, when he was at length handed over to the Consul. Wright had, however, had enough of prison, and, upon giving bail to answer the action in the High Court of Admiralty, he was set at liberty.
The action appears to have dragged on for two or three years, without result—at any rate, Captain Wright never refunded the money, and one cannot help feeling gratified at his success. He wrote, in June 1749, a long letter to the Consul in vindication of his right, which concludes as follows: "They attacked me at law; to that law I must appeal; if I have acted contrary to it, to it I must be responsible; for I do not apprehend I am so to any agent of the Grand Signior, to the Grand Signior himself, or to any other Power, seeing I am an Englishman and acted under a commission from my prince"; surely a most logical, and certainly a most dignified attitude.
Peace restored, Wright engaged in commerce, in partnership, apparently, with William Hutchinson. They fitted out as a trader an old 20-gun vessel—theLowestoft—which made several voyages to the West Indies—Wright continuing to reside at Leghorn.
FORTUNATUS WRIGHT—continued
In 1755 it became apparent that a renewal of hostilities between France and England could not be long delayed; and the staunch littleFamenot being again available, Wright had a vessel built for him at Leghorn—quite a small vessel, which he named theSt. George.
The Tuscan authorities were, however, in spite of declared neutrality, very strongly in sympathy with France, and they did not regard Captain Wright's little ship-building venture with any favour; in fact, they instituted a minute supervision over all English vessels in the port, and naturally, knowing his reputation, they paid particular attention to Wright's little craft; and thereby they stimulated that sense of humour which he had previously exhibited at Malta.
Humbly begging for precise information as to the force he was permitted, as a merchant vessel, to take on board, he was informed, after some deliberation, that he must limit himself to four small guns and a crew of five-and-twenty, and the authorities kept a very sharp eye upon him to see that he complied. Not in the least disconcerted, Wright displayed the greatest anxiety not to exceed the limit, and even suggested that guard-boats should be kept rowing round his ship, as a precautionary measure; one would imagine that these Tuscan magnates could have had but little sense of humour! Finally, before sailing, Wright obtained from the Governor a certificate to the effect that he had complied with all requirements.
Armed with this, he put to sea on July 28th, 1756, in company with four merchant vessels, with valuable cargoes, bound for England. In their anxiety to prevent any irregularities on board theSt. George, the port authorities had overlooked the lading of these vessels, which carried a proper armament and a large accession of men for the former!
In spite of his astuteness, Wright nearly got into a mess; for the authorities had apparently given timely notice to the French that Wright's little squadron would be worth attention, and that he could offer but a feeble resistance, and a vessel had been fitted out with the express purpose of waylaying theSt. George: those little incidents at Malta had not been forgotten, we may be sure. This vessel, a large zebeque—that is to say, a vessel with three masts, each carrying a huge three-cornered sail, probably a fast sailer, and very efficient at beating to windward—carried, according toThe Gentleman's Magazineof August 1756, sixteen guns of considerable size, besides swivels and a full supply of small arms, with a crew of 280 men. She had been waiting off the port forsome time, and her captain had been heard to ask in Leghorn, "When is Captain Wright coming out? He has kept me waiting a long time already." No wonder he was impatient, for it is said that the French king had promised knighthood and a handsome pension for life to the man who should bring Wright into France,alive or dead; while the merchants of Marseilles had posted up "on 'Change" the offer of double the value of Wright's vessel to her captor. Here were nice pickings, indeed! And these offers afford in themselves a pretty good indication of the Englishman's personality; he was, indeed, a terror to the enemies of his country.
Sailing out from Leghorn in the hot summer weather, Wright had to make what seamen term an offing, before he could set about transhipping his guns and men; and before he had got half-way through with it, the zebeque, bristling with cannon and crowded with men, was sighted, bearing down with the confidence assured by vast superiority of force.
Fortunatus Wright saw her coming, and measured the decreasing distance, calculating the time which remained for him to prepare with a cool and critical eye, while his men worked like giants; and, when all was done, he could mount but twelve guns, including the four pop-guns which he had been permitted to ship in port: while his crew—a medley of half a dozen nationalities, who had never worked together—numbered seventy-five all told.
Hastily telling off his men to their stations, andleaving his four traders lying to in a cluster, Wright made sail for the Frenchman; the wind, we may conclude, must have been light or the latter would have been down upon him before. And now the royal favour and comfortable pension, the handsome donation from the Marseillaise merchants, must have loomed very large in the eyes of the French skipper. Even supposing, as would seem probable, that he was not altogether unaware of the operations of the Englishman, his vastly superior force, with his practised crew, should have placed the betting at three to one in his favour; but the layer of such odds would have failed to reckon with the forceful personality of Fortunatus Wright, which inspired his men with the conviction that, odds or no, they must win. When men go into action with that sort of spirit they invariably do win; nothing will stand against them.
Handling his ship with his customary skill, Wright manœuvred repeatedly to the disadvantage of his antagonist, while his rag-tag-and-bob-tail crew, standing to their guns with the utmost intrepidity, poured in such a hot fire that the French captain speedily realised that his only chance was to board and overwhelm the English by superior numbers; but when he got alongside he found them quite as handy with pikes and cutlasses as with guns, and a desperate minority, which is not going to acknowledge itself beaten, soon daunts the hearts of a superior force. The French were repulsed with great slaughter, and, after some further attention from the guns of the gallant littleSt. George, the enemy hauled off, andran, having suffered such serious damage as rendered their vessel almost unseaworthy. Wright followed, but, seeing another Frenchman threatening his convoy, he returned to their protection, sent them back into Leghorn, and anchored there himself on the following day. According to the account inThe Gentleman's Magazine, the French ship lost her captain, lieutenant, lieutenant of Marines, and 88 men killed and 70 men wounded.
No sooner had the gallant Wright cast anchor in Leghorn, than he realised that he had landed in a nest of hornets. The authorities were furious at the failure of their schemes, and the clever fashion in which Wright had hoodwinked them. He was ordered to bring his vessel to the inner harbour, or she would be brought in by force. He refused, and two vessels of vastly superior force were placed alongside his. He appealed to Sir Horace Mann, and there was a fine battle of words between him and the Tuscans, the latter alleging that Wright had deceived them as to his force, and had fought in their waters; and they were very angry also that he should have dared to refuse to take his vessel inside the mole. To all of which Sir Horace very properly replied that—well, that it was a parcel of lies, though he put it in the language of diplomacy; and he flourished the Governor's certificate in their faces, which made them feel very sick indeed—having no sense of humour.
A couple of months elapsed without either side giving way; and then the problem was solved by the appearance of two powerful English men-of-war;to wit, theJersey, of 60 guns, commanded by Sir William Burnaby, and theIsis, of 50 guns. Sir William explained politely to the authorities that he was under orders from the Admiral (Sir Edward Hawke) to convoy any English vessels which might be there, and also to release theSt. George. To the Governor's protest the English captain replied that he had his orders, and intended to carry them out, if necessary, by force; and so the little fleet of English vessels took their departure in a few days, and Wright was free to resume his operations.
In a little while, having taken some more prizes, he put into Malta, only to find that French influence was there as potent as at Leghorn. He was not permitted to buy necessary stores for his crew, and when he took on board a number of English seamen, who had been landed there from ships taken by French privateers, he was compelled to send them on shore again; and so he went to sea again, on October 22nd, 1756.
Twenty-four hours later a big French privateer, of 38 guns, sailed with the intention of eating him up; but, according to the account of one Captain Miller, of the English vesselLark, "When the great beast of a French privateer came out Wright played with him, by sailing round him and viewing him, just to aggravate him, as Wright sailed twice as fast as him."
Of the further exploits of Fortunatus Wright there is but little definite account. Early in 1757 the Italian authorities, realising that they had, by theirduplicity and anti-English rancour, done their trade an infinity of harm, undertook, on the representation of Sir Horace Mann, to observe a strict neutrality in future; and thereupon Sir Horace wrote to Wright that he might bring his prizes into Leghorn. But he was compelled to rescind this permission; whatever else they might be prepared to yield, they could not stomach Wright!
In July 1757, after lamenting the injury to trade caused by French privateers, etc., Sir Horace Mann continues: "A few stout privateers, as in the last war, would totally prevent this ... Captain Wright, of theSt. Georgeprivateer, did great service of this kind in the beginning of the war; but it is feared by some circumstances, and by his not having been heard of for some months, that he foundered at sea. Several prizes made by him have lain some months at Cagliari in Sardinia, waiting for an opportunity to get with safety to Leghorn."
And so this great man disappears; his father's tombstone holds the sentence already recorded, inscribed, no doubt, at the instigation of his children; but neither filial piety nor national esteem could avail to place the legend, "Here lies Fortunatus Wright." His place of rest remains, "unmarked but holy." Mr. Smithers, in his "History of the Commerce of Liverpool," says: "Tradition tells that he became a victim to political interests." This is possible, for he was well hated, as is usual, by those who had injured him; but it appears more probable that he was lost at sea.
In connection with the career of this fine Englishman, it is impossible to omit some reference to a romantic tale which appears inThe Gentleman's Magazinefor August 1757. The story is told, without preface or explanation, as it is alleged to have been narrated by the hero of the adventure, and evidently refers to a period ten or eleven years previously to its publication, when theFamewas afloat. It is, as has been stated, a most romantic tale, but by no means an incredible one: and the specific allusion to Fortunatus Wright, which renders it of interest in this volume, also constitutes a certain guarantee of genuineness.
Selim, the son of a Turkish grandee, on a voyage to Genoa, was captured by a Spanish corsair, and eventually sold as a slave to a young Moor at Oran, in Barbary. Here he suffered many cruel hardships, but after a time there appeared upon the scene a beautiful girl, cousin to Selim's master, and destined, according to family arrangements, to be his wife. The lovely Zaida had, however, like other young women of all ages, her own ideas about the sort of man she favoured. Being kind and pitiful by nature, she exerted herself to mitigate the sorrows of her cousin's slaves, discovered that Selim was of superior birth, and fell in love with him. All this is told at great length; the upshot was that the lovers escaped together, and got on board a French privateer, together with a Swede, also a captive. Then they were informed that the privateer "had orders to cruise near Malta, in order to take a bold Englishman called Fortunatus Wright, and, ifthe winds would permit, we should be landed in that island.... Ten days were passed before we obtained a sight of Malta, ... when a signal was made for standing out to sea in pursuit of a ship which, upon a nearer view, was found to be the very privateer which the French captain had orders to take."
Then ensued a hot engagement, during which Selim remained below for some time, consoling and encouraging his lady-love until the issue became doubtful, when he felt impelled to take the Frenchman's part.
"Pretending to Zaida we were victorious, I sprang upon the deck, and, observing that the English endeavoured to board us ahead, I slew the first who attempted our deck, and, beckoning to the French to follow me, leapt on board the enemy's ship, unseconded by any excepting my Swedish fellow-captive, who, seeing me overpowered, leapt back and regained his ship. Thus was I made a prisoner, and my fair Moor left a prey to all the wretchedness of despair. After several vain attempts to board each other, the two ships parted; the French steered towards France, and I was carried into Malta. The good captain, whose prisoner I was, observing my despondence, ordered me to be set free, though I had killed one of his men; and when I informed him of my unhappy story, and my resolutions to go in quest of Zaida, he gave me 100 guineas, and advised me to sail for England; 'where, though I am unhappily exiled from it, said he, 'you will be generously treated, and will hear the fate of the French privateer.'"
Selim took this sound advice, backed by such a generous donation, and, after a two months' voyage, arrived in England, where the first thing he saw was the identical vessel in which his Zaida had been borne away from him: she had been captured and sent home.
The officer in charge lent a sympathetic ear to Selim's tale of woe, and, after some fruitless inquiries, "We landed at a fair town, on the banks of a small river called Avon; and the captain, who had not drowned his humanity in the rough element on which he traded, conveyed me to the prison, where, after searching various apartments, at last I found my fair, afflicted Zaida lying on the ground, with her head on the lap of her women, and the Swede sitting near to guard her. As soon as she saw me her voice failed her; I had almost lost her by an agony of astonishment and joy as soon as I had recovered her. Hours were counted ere she would believe her senses, and even days passed over us in which she sat with a silent admiration, and even still doubts whether all is real."
The reader is, of course, at liberty to share the doubts of the fair Zaida; but it appears probable that the story is true with regard to the main incidents.
The remark attributed to Wright—which it is scarcely possible to imagine could have been invented by the narrator—that he was "unhappily exiled" from England appears to point to some complications at home to which there is no clue.
And so we must bid farewell to Fortunatus Wright, who, had he been an officer in the Royal Navy, mightcertainly have rivalled some of our most illustrious seamen in his exploits, and, in place of an unknown and nameless grave, have found his last resting-place in Westminster Abbey.
William Hutchinson, already alluded to as Wright's subordinate and subsequent partner, is justly entitled to some further notice. He was born at Newcastle-on-Tyne, in 1715, and commenced his sea-career at an early age as "cook, cabin-boy, and beer-drawer for the men" on board a collier. From this humble beginning he worked his way up, with varied fortune and a full share of the hardships which were so frequently the lot of seamen in those days. He was always apparently a strenuous, conscientious, and courageous man, and attained immense skill as a seaman. His first privateering experience was, as far as can be gathered, under Wright in theFame, when he conceived that profound respect and admiration of his captain which is exhibited in his remarks, already quoted. It was probably during this time that an incident occurred which called for ready wit and pluck in order to avert disaster, not to say disgrace. Hutchinson may have been in command of a privateer at the time—1747—but it is more likely that he was with Wright, and in charge of the deck; and there were a number of French prisoners on board, the crews of three prizes, who were, perhaps somewhat rashly, permitted to be on deck, with full liberty, all at one time. Hutchinson had occasion—no doubt in connection with the scheme of cruising already described—to take all the canvas off the ship,and, having clewed up everything, he sent all his men aloft to furl sails. While they were so employed he detected a movement among the prisoners which appeared suspicious: one of the French captains was going about among them, evidently inciting them to some concerted action; which, with all the English crew aloft, might well have been entirely successful. But they had not reckoned with the officer in charge. With his hand in his pocket, clutching his pistol, but not exhibiting it so as to precipitate violence, he approached the French captain, and quietly told him that instant death was his portion on the smallest evidence of any attempt to capture the ship; then, hailing his own men, he bade them look sharp down from aloft, and the danger was averted in a few minutes. Nothing save undaunted courage, combined with absolute outward calm, could have saved the situation; had Hutchinson appeared alarmed or flustered he would have been lost; and this incident, briefly and modestly related by himself, affords a sure indication of his character.
In 1757, after the war with France was renewed, Hutchinson was in command of a fine privateer, theLiverpool, named after the port from which she hailed, in which he made several successful cruises. We are told that "he would not permit the least article to be taken from any of the French prisoners," from which we may conclude that, as we should expect of a man of his stamp, he was an honourable and strict privateer commander, who was emphatically captain of his ship, and insisted upon a high standard of duty.
One night he made a lamentable mistake. Continuing, after dark, the chase of a vessel which had been previously sighted, and was believed to be a French privateer, he came up with her and hailed her inFrench. The only reply was a tremendous and well-directed broadside, which did serious damage aloft, pierced the hull close to the water-line, and wounded no fewer than twenty-eight of the crew. Captain Hutchinson devoutly wished that he had stuck to his native tongue, instead of airing his French, for the vessel turned out to be his Majesty's shipAntelope!
Hutchinson did no more in the way of privateering after the year 1758. In the following year he was appointed principal water-bailiff and dockmaster of Liverpool, and held this post for nearly forty years. In 1777 he published a book entitled "A Practical Treatise on Seamanship," and justified—if it needed justification—this act by a verse under the frontispiece (a vessel under full sail), whether original or a quotation does not appear:
Britannia's glory first from ships arose;To shipping still her power and wealth she owes.Let each experienced Briton then impartHis naval skill to perfect naval art.
He was certainly well qualified for the task, and the work is very full and complete, containing incidentally some yarns concerning his own experiences, and practical hints upon sundry subjects, as, for instance, the brewing of tea when at sea, without thecommon adjuncts of teapot, cups and saucers, etc.: put the tea-leaves into a quart bottle, filled with fresh water, and well corked up, and boil it in the ship's copper, along with the salt beef! Whether the salt beef added to the virtue of the "brew" we do not know; probably the gallant and hardy skipper was "tannin-proof" inside!
Hutchinson was a religious man apparently, in a true sense, always seeking to discharge his duties in accordance with the high standard thus derived. It is related of him that, when his ship had foundered—the date is not mentioned—upon one occasion, and he and some of his shipmates were in danger of perishing through hunger and thirst, they adopted the terrible device of drawing lots as to which of them should die and furnish the remainder with this ghastly means of prolonging life. The lot fell upon Hutchinson; but, before the horrible act could be consummated, a sail appeared, and they were rescued. Hutchinson, it is said, observed the anniversary of this day with strict devotions of thanksgiving for the remainder of his life. Such recognition was certainly due; but how many sailors would so faithfully have rendered it?