GEORGE WALKER
In the year 1745 some merchants of London fitted out three privateers—thePrince Frederick, 28 guns, 244 men, commanded by Captain James Talbot, who was in chief command; theDuke, of 20 guns, 150 men, Captain Morecock; and thePrince George, 20 guns, 134 men. This little squadron sailed from Cowes on June 2nd, and on the 7th a frightful disaster befell them, thePrince George, under circumstances not explained, capsizing and going down. These vessels were very heavily masted, and, if the weights were not carefully bestowed, a sudden squall when under full sail, with, perhaps, the lee gun-ports open, might easily be fatal. The unfortunateEurydice, though of somewhat later construction, was of this type of vessel, and, as will be remembered, capsized off the Isle of Wight one Sunday afternoon, only two being saved out of the whole crew.
The Commodore contrived to save some twenty men from his unhappy consort; and then proceeded, with thePrince Frederick, to cruise between the Azores and the banks of Newfoundland.
This cruise is remarkable for two things: its brevity and the richness of the prizes captured.
On July 10th three sails were seen, bearing west, and the two privateers immediately gave chase. These were theMarquis d'Antin, 450 tons, 24 guns, and 68 men, commanded by Magon Serpere; theLouis Erasmé, 500 tons, 28 guns, and 66 men, commanded by Pedro Lavigne Quenell; and theNotre Dame de Deliverance, 300 tons, 22 guns, and 60 men, commanded by Pedro Litant; all three hailing from St. Malo. They were now returning from Lima; and little did Talbot and his men suspect the riches they carried.
the 'capture'
CAPTURE OF THE FRENCH ARMED SHIPS
However, they chased, and the others kept their wind, paying little heed. At seven o'clock Talbot fired a shot at them, upon which they hoisted their colours and formed line. TheDuke, to windward, attacked first; Talbot afterwards engaged theMarquis d'Antinfor three hours, when she struck, though thePrince Frederickwas for a while between two fires, theLouis Erasmégetting on her bow. When theMarquis d'Antinsurrendered the other attempted to flee, but was caught and captured. Meanwhile, Captain Morecock had been hotly engaged with theNotre Dame de Deliverance, which, however, realising that her consorts had struck, crowded sail and contrived to escape—theDukebeing probably hampered by damage aloft.
The casualties were not heavy on either side, but the two French ships were dismasted.
Reaching Kinsale on July 30th, the news of the immense value of the prizes caused special care to be used; they were escorted to Bristol by three men-of-war, and thence the treasure was conveyed to London in forty-five waggons. This tremendous cavalcade made its way through the city to the Tower, colours flying, bands playing, and a strong guard of bluejackets marching with it.
The amount of treasure may be imagined from the fact that each seaman's share came to £850; the officers, of course, receiving much larger sums, in proportion to their rank. The owners' share was not less than £700,000; and the Scottish rebellion—"the '45"—having just broken out, they offered the money as a loan to the Government.
Captain Talbot is said to have behaved with great kindness and generosity to his prisoners, permitting the officers to retain all their valuables and their swords, and presenting each seaman with twenty guineas when they were landed. The enemy, we are told, was most anxious to ransom the ships, but this, of course, was out of the question; and subsequently some of the crews revealed hiding-places in which considerable treasure was stowed in the "linings," or double sides, receiving a handsome present for their pains. Furthermore, in overhauling the cargo, the British seamen every now and then came across a "wedge of gold."
After this Commodore Talbot decided to remain on shore and enjoy his fortune; he joined the body of merchants, who determined to fit out another squadron, the command being entrusted to a man of remarkable character, whose career as a privateer captain we shall now proceed to trace.
Among eighteenth-century privateersmen there is no more honourable name than that of George Walker. He was, of course, a contemporary of Fortunatus Wright, and Sir William Laird Clowes, the eminent naval historian, very truly remarks of these two men that they "did as much to uphold British prestige at sea as any captains of the Royal Navy"; the case might, indeed, be put in stronger language, for there were unhappily a good many instances at this period, in which naval commanders cut a somewhat sorry figure, and Walker himself, as we shall see, was witness upon one occasion of a lack of zeal and enterprise—to put it mildly—on their part which was in striking contrast to the intrepidity and resource displayed by him upon every occasion.
Beyond casual, but invariably complimentary allusions in naval histories, we should have known but little of George Walker, had it not been for the industry of an ardent admirer, who served under him on nearly all his cruises, and subsequently wrote an account of them. The writer withholds both his name and his rank, and tells his story with great simplicity, prompted solely by his admiration of his former chief, and the desire of vindicating his name as a great seaman and a born leader of men; for Walker was, at that time, in gaol for debt, owing to some dispute with his owners, who do not appear to have treated him with the generosity due to so faithful a servant. This is the sordid side of privateering, which, as has been before remarked, is too much in evidence; we need not, however, concern ourselves overmuch with thequestion of George Walker's financial dealings with his principals; he may, for all we know, have muddled his accounts, but we are prepared to go bail for his honesty of intention. There is abundant evidence of his character in this little book, and no one who reads it will entertain a doubt as to his absolute integrity.
The narrator, in his Introduction, dwells much upon Walker's unwillingness to have his exploits discussed or published. It was with the utmost difficulty that he was persuaded to sanction the publication of this book, and when, in accordance with his strict injunctions, the copy was submitted for his approval before going to the printer, his deletions disposed of nearly one-third of the matter; "at which," says the writer, "I am not so much disobliged by the shortening of the performance as at the loss of real truths which would have illustrated the chief personage of my work. And though this account may speak to the modesty of the gentleman himself, yet it is so far paradoxical that it takes greatly from his merit.... I will only say of him herein, as Mr. Waller does of good writers:
Poets lose half the praise they would have got,Was it but known what they discreetly blot."
Nothing appears to be known of George Walker's birth and early training, save that he served in the Dutch Navy, and was involved in some engagement with, probably, Mediterranean pirates.
In 1739 he was commander and part owner of theshipDuke William, trading to Gibraltar and South Carolina; and, with the view of being able to defend himself in case of attack, he obtained a letter of marque, and provided his vessel with twenty guns. His crew numbered only thirty-two: but, with characteristic forethought and resource, he shipped a quantity of seamen's clothing, in order, should occasion arise, to rig up dummies; and this, according to his biographer, he actually did on the approach of a Spanish privateer of superior force, crowded with men: "setting up all the handspikes and other provided utensils, and dressing them in the marine clothes, and also exercising the boatswain's call in the highest notes, as is usual in king's ships." This done, Walker proceeded to prepare for the grim realities of action, should it be forced upon him, he and his crew, as they busied themselves clearing away the guns, etc., going into fits of laughter at the grotesque appearance of the row of dummies, standing stiff and motionless amidships. All being ready, Walker, consistently maintaining his game of bluff, fired a shot across the bows of the Spaniard, which was to windward of him. This invitation to fight was not accepted, and, though the Spaniard hung on for a couple of days, he eventually disappeared; so we must suppose that the toy seamen and the boatswain's whistle carried the day!
Arrived at his destination, Walker, while waiting for a cargo, offered his services to the colonial authorities to put an end to the ravages of two Spanish privateers, which were having it all their own wayon the coast of North Carolina. His crew was increased by nearly one hundred men, and several gentlemen volunteered their services. The tidings of an English privateer being abroad appears to have been enough for the Spaniards: "We could fall in with nothing which would stay for us upon the seas"; an English vessel was easily retaken from the enemy, a shore battery destroyed, and there was no more trouble. Walker received a tremendous ovation on the conclusion of this service, all the influential persons in the colony offering to sign a request that he might be given command of a king's ship. Upon his declining this, they tendered him an immense piece of land if he would remain amongst them; but Walker preferred to stick to his ship, and sailed for Barbadoes, and thence for England, in company with three traders who placed themselves under his convoy.
The vessels parted company in a gale, which blew with such violence that theDuke Williamstarted some of her planks, and leaked like a sieve. Walker was laid up in his cabin, and was indeed so ill that the surgeon despaired of his life. Things went on from bad to worse: all the guns save two—retained for signalling purposes, by Walker's orders, issued from his bunk—were thrown overboard; the boat was with difficulty preserved from following them, Walker being carried up from below to remonstrate and command; and when a section of the crew, despite his orders, were preparing to desert in the boat—a very desperate venture—a sail appeared; their signals were seen and heard, and she bore down—then, evidently suspecting a ruse by an armed vessel, she hastily hauled off. While the crew were gazing at one another in despair, Walker coolly gave orders to cut away the mizzen-mast instantly; after a momentary hesitation his order was obeyed, and the meaning of it was immediately obvious. Another gun being fired, the stranger, convinced by the crippled condition of the ship, returned to the rescue, and proved to be no stranger, but one of their convoy. The transhipment of Walker and his men was safely effected at immense risk, and they reached home in a sorry plight, this vessel proving almost as unseaworthy as the other. And there Walker was greeted with very unwelcome tidings: he had lost his ship, and his agents had suffered the insurance to lapse; he was a ruined man.
Before entering upon his distinguished career as a privateer captain Walker commanded for eighteen months a vessel trading to the Baltic; and, returning from his last trip in 1744, just after war was declared against the French, he again most successfully adopted a policy of "bluff." Having shipped a number of wooden guns, and otherwise disguised his vessel, being chased off the coast of Scotland by a privateer, and finding she had the heels of him, he tacked, hoisted ensign, jack, and man-of-war's pendant, and fired a gun, as much as to say, "Come on; I'm waiting!" The enemy did not wait, and Walker proceeded quietly upon his homeward voyage.
In this same year, 1744, two fine vessels were equipped as privateers by some London and Dartmouth owners, and Walker was offered command of theMars, of 26 guns and 130 men, her consort being theBoscawen, a vessel of similar armament, but of larger tonnage and with a more numerous crew.
When two days out from Dartmouth they encountered a French king's ship, of force about equal to theBoscawen, and Walker, of course, immediately engaged her, justly considering that, with his consort, he would soon overpower her; indeed, he would have attacked had he been cruising alone. The captain of theBoscawen, however, was quite a different sort of man, with a strong dislike of hard knocks. Instead of seconding Walker's attack, he held off out of range, letting drive once or twice a futile shot, which dropped far short; so Walker was left to fight alone, and after a severe tussle, he and the Frenchman parted, both ships a good deal knocked about. While his crew were repairing damages Walker went on board theBoscawento have a little talk with her skipper—whose name is not mentioned—"but was never heard to throw any censure publicly on his behaviour." Walker was always a gentleman, and an instinctive disciplinarian. No doubt he gave the other, in private, a slice of his mind, but, as we shall see, without any good result.
A month later, in December, at midnight, with a fresh breeze and thick rain, they suddenly found themselves close to two large vessels. They could hear the people on board talking excitedly, in French, and apparently in a state of alarm, and, judging from these signs that they were treasure ships, Walkerand his consort hung on their heels. At eight o'clock next morning the weather cleared and the two strangers were revealed as French men-of-war, the one of 74 and the other of 64 guns; which was exceedingly awkward for the two Englishmen. The Frenchmen were, however, both treasure-ships as well as men-of-war, being bound from the West Indies with cargoes valued at nearly four millions sterling, were not in good fighting trim, and were very anxious to get into Brest with their treasure, so it is quite probable that they would have gone on their way and left the two privateers alone. The captain of theBoscawen, however, did not wait to see what they would do; directly he realised their force he crowded sail, and disappeared from the scene without even a parting greeting to his consort; and, seeing only one enemy left, and this a small one, the 64-gun ship—theFleuron—was sent in chase of theMars, rapidly gaining upon her. "Gentlemen," said Walker, "I do not mean to be so rash as to attempt a regular engagement with so superior a force; all I ask of you is, to confide in me and my orders, to get away, if possible, without striking; and, be assured, I shall employ your assistance neither in revenge nor vainglory, nor longer than I think it of use to our design. The ship which pursues is certainly the best sailer of the enemy, by being ordered to the chase; if, by good fortune, we bring down a topmast or yard, or hurt her rigging so as to retard her pursuit, we may entirely get clear."
So he hoisted his colours and opened fire with hisstern guns, the enemy replying with his bow-chasers by the space of over two hours. TheMars, however, was not a brilliant sailer, and by this time the 74—theNeptune—had crept up, so that she was almost between two fires. There was nothing for it but surrender. "Well, gentlemen," said Walker, smiling, "we don't strike to one ship only—haul down the colours!" And so he went on board theFleuronto surrender his sword and his privateer commission. The French captain was not as polite as he expected: "How dare you, sir," he asked, in excellent English, "in so small a ship, fire against a force like me?"
"Sir," replied Walker, "if you will look at my commission you will find I had as good a right to fight as you; and if my force had not been so inferior to yours I had shown you more civil treatment on board my ship"—which was a very good specimen of English politeness.
"How many men of yours have I killed?" demanded the Frenchman.
"None at all, sir." "Then, sir, you have killed six of mine, and wounded several; you fired pieces of glass."
This preposterous accusation was, of course, denied; but it turned out that some missiles of a very unusual naturehadbeen discharged from theMars. The captain of one of the stern guns, realising that they must surrender, took about sixteen shillings from his pocket, saying that "sooner than the French rascals should plunder him of all he had in the world, he would first send it among them, and see what abribe would do." So he wrapped his shillings up in a rag, crammed them into the gun, and sent them humming and whistling through the Frenchman's rigging, which no doubt gave rise to the glass theory—neither Frenchmen nor any one else could be expected to recognise the "ring" of a coin under the circumstances! The facetious gunner was an Irishman.
Well, theMarswas captive, while theBoscawenhad prudently escaped; but this was not the end of the incident. The action took place on a Friday, and at daybreak on Sunday morning four large ships were sighted astern; it did not require a long period of observation to realise that they were coming up pretty fast, and in a couple of hours they were recognised as English men-of-war. Then the Frenchmen began to regret that they had stopped to capture the privateer, instead of making the most of their way homeward with their treasure, which now appeared almost inevitably destined to become English treasure.
The captain of theFleuron—who by this time had learned that his prisoner, though only captain of a privateer, was worthy of respect—discoursed to Walker in some bitterness on this subject, and added: "It is seldom any great accident happens from single causes, but by a chain or series of things; thus, if we be here overcome, our loss will be owing to the waspishness of a single frigate, which would not cease fighting so long as it had a sting in its tail"—a remark which, if somewhat bitter, was appreciative.
The English squadron gained steadily, and the French officer in charge of theMarsput his helm upand ran to leeward, hoping to draw off one of the ships after him; in which he was successful, theCaptain, a 70-gun ship, giving chase, and eventually recapturing theMars.
The other three ships were theHampton Court, 70 guns, and theSunderlandandDreadnought, each of 60 guns. TheSunderlandlost a spar, and dropped astern, but the other two were nearly alongside the French ships by sunset, theDreadnought, a poor sailer, being somewhat astern.
The French captain thereupon, seeing an action inevitable, politely requested Walker and his officers to go below. "Sir," said Walker, "I go off with great pleasure on the occasion, as I am now certain of my liberty; and I hope to have the satisfaction of seeing you again in being."
He was not destined, however, to regain his liberty so easily, for these naval captains, what with faulty tactics and absolute want of zeal and enterprise, entirely bungled the whole business, and permitted the French ships to escape, treasure and all. TheCaptainwas commanded by Captain Thomas Griffin, senior officer of the squadron, who detached himself to chase theMars, and gave, as an excuse, when he was tried by court-martial, that he thought theMarswas the only man-of-war, and the two larger vessels her convoy. The court apparently accepted this flimsy story—although theCaptainwas nearer than the other ships, and no one else had any such notion—but the Service generally did not.
Captain Savage Mostyn, of theHampton Court,hung about the French ships without firing a shot, waiting for theDreadnoughtto come up, instead of endeavouring to disable them aloft; and he also cut an extremely sorry figure at the court-martial; but his lame and almost incredible excuses were accepted. He was acquitted, and said to have "done his duty as an experienced good officer, and as a man of courage and conduct." There seemed to be a determination to let off everybody just then; but the public did not let off Mostyn, for when he sailed from Portsmouth a year later, still in command of theHampton Court, it was to the cry of "All's well! There's no Frenchman in the way!"
Now, it is a sad thing to have to say all this of naval commanders; and still more humiliating to reflect that, had George Walker, master-mariner and privateer skipper, been in command of that squadron, no such fiasco would have occurred; but this is most undoubtedly true. Walker would have had those French treasure ships had he been in command of theHampton Court, as surely as he was then a prisoner on board one of them, watching with shame and disgust the paltry tactics of his countrymen, and compelled subsequently to listen to the boastful and disparaging comments of the Frenchmen.
Arrived at Brest, the Englishmen had no cause to complain of their treatment. Walker had by this time so ingratiated himself with the captain of theFleuron, that the latter acceded to his request that the crew of theMarsmight be landed at once, on the day after their arrival, and might receive everypossible consideration until they could be exchanged; and he resisted strenuously Walker's request that he might go and see personally to the comfort of his men, begging to know in what he had fallen short, to be thus deprived of his esteemed company. Walker politely insisting, the French captain gave him a most flattering letter of introduction to the Governor, who liberated the English captain and all his officers on parole, and treated them handsomely in every respect.
They left theFleuronnone too soon. On the following day, while Walker was in the act of writing to the captain to beg him to send him his letter of credit, which was in a tin box with his commission, people came running in crying that theFleuronhad blown up. It was, indeed, too true; and the catastrophe was entirely due to the gross carelessness of the gunner, who, landing the powder, left some four or five barrels in the magazine for saluting purposes, and did not even have the loose powder, spilt in emptying the cartridges, swept up under his own eye. Some stupid fellows, engaged afterwards in this work, took a decrepit old lantern down with them; the handle broke, the flame ignited the loose powder, and that was the end of theFleuron; she burnt to the water's edge, and then went down, treasure and all; and the guns having been left loaded—it seems almost incredible, but we have the account of an eye-witness—kept going off at intervals, preventing the approach of boats, etc., which might have saved many of the crew. Walker had to mourn the loss ofhis friend, the courteous and generous captain, and also that of his letter of credit—a serious temporary inconvenience.
We must not dwell in detail upon the sojourn of Walker and his crew in France. Their exchange was arranged in a few weeks, Walker, by his courage, tact, and ability smoothing over every difficulty as it arose, and making many friends in the process. Indeed, the simple and straightforward account by the narrator of his cheerful and undaunted bearing under sundry incidental trials which arose, from lack of means, etc., fills one with admiration of the man. They arrived at Weymouth on February 28th, 1745, and Walker lost no time in reporting himself to his owners at Dartmouth, who, though they had heard, through the recapturedMars, of his whereabouts, and had sent him fresh letters of credit, scarcely expected him so soon.
TheMarsbeing repurchased, the two vessels were again fitted out for a cruise, the very cautious captain of theBoscawenbeing replaced by Walker's first lieutenant, who, however, was placed in command of theMars. Walker selected theBoscawenas his own command, as being the finer vessel and the better sailer; she was a French-built ship, a prize in the last war, mounting 28 nine-pounders. Walker increased her armament to 30 guns, twelve and nine-pounders, and shipped a crew of 314 men. Thus she was, as the writer says, "perhaps the most complete privateer ever sent from England"; but she was not as good as she looked, and Walker had cause afterwards to regret that he had increased her weights, for she was structurally what an English shipwright would describe as a "slopped" ship; cheaply built, and inefficiently fastened.
However, she was good enough for some brilliant work, with her able skipper and an enthusiastic crew, in the shipping of which there had been a passage of arms between Walker and one Taylor, captain of an Exeter privateer then fitting out, who found Walker in such favour that he could not obtain a full crew; so he had recourse to some very underhand devices to decoy theBoscawen'smen, one of whom, with address worthy of his captain, led him into a trap and made a complete fool of him, eventually taking nearly all the men he had succeeded in shipping to make up theBoscawen'screw; while Captain Walker interviewed the owner—whose brother he had been instrumental in getting exchanged in France—and told him what he thought of him and his methods—and no one could talk straighter then Walker, when he found it necessary. There were some very amusing incidents in connection with these doings, which, however, must be omitted for lack of space; we must get to sea again.
Without waiting for theMars, Walker put to sea on April 19th, 1745, and a month later fell in with the privateerSheerness, Captain Parnell, and kept company during the night. At daybreak, being then fifty miles west of the Lizard, they sighted eight vessels, evidently in company, and gave chase. TheBoscawenleft the other astern, and about nine o'clockthe enemy formed line, and were soon made out to be armed vessels, awaiting attack. This was odds enough to discourage most men, and theSheernessbeing hopelessly astern, no one imagined that Walker intended engaging, though all preparation was made for action.
Reading some suspense and anxiety in the faces of his officers, Walker called them together and addressed them: "Gentlemen, I hope you do not think the number of prizes before us too many. Be assured, by their being armed, they have something on board them worth defending; for I take them to be merchantmen with letters of marque, and homeward bound. Without doubt we shall meet with some opposition, in which I have not the least doubt of your courage; but I see we must here conquer also by a mastership of skill. Be cool, and recollect every man his best senses; for, as we shall be pressed on all sides, let every man do his best in engaging the enemy he sees before him, and then one side need not fear nor take thought for the other. In a word, gentlemen, if you give me your voice for my leading you on, I pawn my life to you, I will bring you off victorious."
Was ever a more masterly speech from a chief to his subordinates? But one reply was possible; the men went to their quarters and theBoscawensailed on into the thick of the enemy's line, strict orders being issued that, whatever fire they might receive, not a shot was to be returned until the captain gave the word. There were, unfortunately, sixty mensick, and these, with the exception of three, crawled on deck to render what assistance they could, or at least to see the fun.
Steering straight for the largest vessel, though already considerably damaged aloft by the fire of the others, Walker delivered his broadside, and then the enemy got round him, two on either side, one ahead and one astern; the other two apparently decamped, and took no part in the action. The ship astern, after attempting to rake theBoscawen, was so roughly handled by her stern guns that she hauled off, and struck her colours. The fight was continued with the remaining five for the space of an hour; and the writer asserts that it was maintained on board theBoscawenwithout any confusion or disorder, the men, under the officers' orders, banging away at whatever happened to be in front of their guns, "without fear or thought for the others." The flagship struck, and sank ten minutes later; the remaining four stuck to it, hoping yet to subdue the sorely batteredBoscawen; but Walker's men remembered his pledge to them, and were resolved that he should not be stultified. In another half-hour every flag was down, and theSheerness, at length coming up, chased and captured one of the runaways; so the "bag" was one sunk and six captured.
The enemy is stated to have had 113 killed and drowned, while theBoscawen'scasualties amounted only to one killed and seven wounded. The writer ascribes this comparative immunity to a protection, a raised bulwark, "man-high," of elm planking,which Walker had caused to be erected, with a step on which the marines could mount to fire, and stand down to load; and he says the elm did not splinter, but kept out bullets, and closed up round the holes made by shot. With due allowance for this, however, the Frenchmen must have made very wretched practice; they were probably unpractised and undisciplined merchant crews; but it was a brilliant affair. The vessels were all homeward bound "Martinico men," as Walker had surmised, provided with letters of marque.
An old lady, a person of some distinction, a passenger in the commodore's ship, was picked up, floating about on a bale of cotton; she did not know how she had got there. The commodore was also rescued, and Walker gave them the use of his cabin, and fitted out the old lady with "a silk nightgown, some fine linen waistcoats, cambric night-caps, etc., in which she appeared a kind of hermaphrodite in dress"; a droll figure, indeed! But a privateer skipper can scarcely be expected to be provided with requisites for such an occasion. The poor old lady had a tragic tale to tell, for her daughter, a young girl, went down with the ship; and her account of the scene between decks, where she and her daughter retired during the action, is ghastly enough: "Hither they brought the poor bleeding sailors, one after another, without legs, without arms, roaring with their pains, and laid in heaps to be butchered anew by the surgeon, in his haste and despatch of cure or death. Here several of the objects died at our feet. Thus surrounded by the ghastly prospect, all at once death himself came breaking in upon us, through the side of the ship; cut down the surgeon and one of his mates, and shattered the whole medicine-chest in pieces. Here was a total suspension of all relief to the poor wounded wretches; death coming, as it were, to reinforce his own orders and stop every means or effort to prevent him."
Arrived with his shattered vessel and equally dismantled prizes at King's Road, Bristol, Walker, reporting proceedings to the Admiralty, received a handsome congratulatory letter from the Secretary.
Sailing once more in July, Walker captured in August a vessel, theCatharina, which he subsequently bought as a tender, naming her theGeorge; and in the following month he found himself, as was so often the case in privateers, at loggerheads with his crew over a vessel—a Dutchman—which he overhauled, and, being satisfied that her cargo was not contraband, dismissed her. The crew, after grumbling among themselves, assembled on deck while Walker was at supper, demanding to see him.
He and his officers armed themselves and went on deck, and faced the three hundred angry men, who required to know why the Dutchman was not good prize. Walker's reply was admirable: "This is not the way to ask me. I am willing that the meanest man in the ship shall be satisfied of my conduct, but I will give that satisfaction in my own way, and not be called to account by you. I am sorry, indeed, that it should ever be said of me thatI was obliged to take up arms against my own people, in defence of conduct which can be so easily supported by words only. It will be a pain to me to reflect upon it, as long as I live, and a blot on the character I imagined I had gained. I am very willing to explain to you what rights we have over Dutch vessels, but I shall choose my own time for doing it; and every man who does not instantly separate to his duty, when I give the word, I shall treat him as an associate in a mutiny."
Two of the men called out that it would be too late to explain when the chase was out of sight. "Bring those men aft, and put them in irons," said Walker; and he was obeyed. Next morning he gave them a lecture on prize law and discipline, to which they listened in all submission.
GEORGE WALKER—continued
It was towards the end of this year—1745—after a visit to Madeira—where some of the crew got into trouble over a very foolish practical joke, putting a handful of soot in the holy-water fount at a church door—and a short cruise off the Azores, that Walker and his men were called upon to face death in a new form: not amidst the interchange of cannon-shot, the rattle of musketry, the clash of steel, but the gradual encroachment of the sea in a desperately leaky ship, threatening day by day to engulf them.
It was upon this occasion that George Walker displayed the noblest qualities, and by his fortitude, tact, and unwearying exertions kept the ship afloat and saved the lives of all on board.
The story is a thrilling one. The beginning of disaster was on November 12th, when theDuke of Bedfordprivateer had been for some days in company, and some hard gales had been experienced, the wind again increasing to a gale upon this day, with heavy rain. The mainyard, which should have been held aloft in its place by chain-slings, had been left, through carelessness, hangingby the tackle which was used to raise and lower it—termed the "geers"—and, upon the men being sent up to furl the mainsail, the strap supporting the upper block gave way, and the yard—the heaviest in the ship—came down, with all the men upon it. Strangely enough, no one was injured or thrown overboard; but the narrator alleges that the shock of the yard falling shook up the ship, so as to open some of her joints. It may as well be pointed out, for the information of the non-professional reader, that no such result had any right to ensue in a ship with any pretension to being decently built; the utmost damage should have been, perhaps, broken bulwarks, and probably some injury to the spar itself. However, whether by coincidence or from the vessel being really so shaky, she commenced, after this, to make water too freely, and two days later alarmingly, so that two pumps constantly going would scarcely keep her clear. The wind and sea increased, the ship laboured more and more, her planks working and seams opening everywhere. She was then off the Azores, some fifteen hundred miles from the Land's End, and Walker steered a course for the south of Ireland, intending to finish the cruise in those waters. On the 17th, however, the water increased enormously, and the officers, thoroughly alarmed, signed a petition to Walker to make for the nearest port. After some discussion, and a most disheartening report from the carpenter, he gave his consent, reminding them that his honour and his duty to the owners obliged him to speak every ship he sighted; and recommending themto endeavour in every way to encourage the crew and keep their spirits up.
Vain endeavour! a day or two of constant pumping revealed the fact that all the power available would not keep the water under, and a large number of men had to be kept incessantly baling—dipping up the water in buckets from the hold, passing it from hand to hand, and emptying it on the deck, upon which the pumps also discharged, so that the scuppers would scarcely suffice to keep the deck free; water below, water on deck, and a winter gale howling through the rigging, the ship labouring and lurching helplessly under reduced canvas. Almost mechanically the weary crew took their turns at pumping, baling, handling the ship; despair began to grow upon them, and, after a week of toil and slow progress, it came to Walker's knowledge, through some men whom he could trust, that there was a plot to seize the arms, take the boats by force, with as many as they would hold, and leave the rest to perish. He responded with a counter-mine. At a given signal the officers, already disposed near where the arms were kept, suddenly threw every weapon overboard, except a sufficient number to arm themselves, thus turning the tables upon the astonished conspirators, who now imagined that they would receive the treatment they had designed for others; but Walker, humane and sympathetic as he was brave, did not speak an angry word to them: "I sincerely forgive you your folly and rashness," he said, "which came rather from your fears than from deliberate disobedience. If you willnow exert yourselves, and stick to the pumping and baling, we shall save the ship; if not, we go to the bottom. And remember, that I have now the power to provide for myself and the officers alone, as you would so selfishly have done for yourselves; but if you stick to us, we will stick to you, to the last."
The crowd of rough, sea-soaked, half-starved, wearied men, swaying on the slippery deck with the motion of the ship, had no words in which to reply to such a speech. Some of them were moved to tears, and when, as an earnest of their goodwill, one or two called for cheers for the captain, their voices, mingled with the dismal howling of the wind and the ominous sound of water surging about below, rang so quavering and feeble, that Walker turned aside to conceal his own emotion.
From that time forward he never left the deck, nor lay down for a week, sleeping as he stood, leaning on the rail.
Every eye was turned to that solitary, dauntless figure. Never a sign of fear or yielding did he show, and when he spoke words of encouragement as they toiled at the pumps, they would look up at him, some with a murmur of blessing and admiration, some with tears in their eyes.
Already six guns had been thrown overboard; in a few days, the gale increasing, nearly all the remainder followed. The anchors were cut away, and also some spars which were superfluous in such a gale; the sails were split by the violence of the wind, the rigging gave out, the masts swaying and threatening to go by the board, and never a sail appeared: not even a foe ofsuperior force, which they would have welcomed in their dire extremity.
At length the word was beginning to be passed about that it was useless any longer to toil at the pumps. Nothing could save the ship, and the lassitude of despair was settling down upon them. The officers began to share the despondency of the crew, and Walker, looking round for those with whom he would consult, missed them: they had gone below to take eternal leave of one another.
Calling a seaman, Walker sent him aloft, with orders to cry "A sail!" and then, sending for the drummer, he bade him beat to quarters.
Sudden animation ran through the ship. The men paused in their labour, looking round the horizon; the officers ran on deck, and closed round the captain: "Sir, do you think of engaging?" asked one. "Yes, sir," replied Walker, in a low voice. "When I see an enemy so near—your own fears, which attack the hearts of all my other men. I am willing to take my greater part of duty, but you leave too much to my share."
Ashamed, they endeavoured to emulate his fortitude, and this desperate ruse procured another respite from despair, and a night of renewed vigour at the pumps, in the hope of rescue in the morning. But there was no sail, and, though the wind had abated, despair returned; Walker assured them positively that they would sight land next day, and thus induced them to turn to once more, though he was by no means confident that his word would come true: and when a man ran aft in a sudden panic, or sent byothers to tell the news, crying that the ship was just about to sink, his patience gave way for a moment, and he floored the scaremonger with a blow of his fist. "You lie, you villain!" he said; "she told me otherwise, as she rose on that last sea!"
But it was over at last. On the following day the coast of Cornwall was sighted, and in the afternoon the battered and water-loggedBoscawenran into St. Ives. Anchorless, she drifted helplessly, and, in spite of the efforts of the Cornish boatmen, swept past the pier and grounded on a rocky beach, where she instantly parted, her masts falling every way. All the crew save four were got on shore in safety: Walker remained to see the sick got out of the cabin window, telling his men not to mind about him, as he would presently swim on shore; but two of the townsmen, who had probably heard from some of the seamen what sort of hero was in danger of perishing on the wreck, came out and brought him off.
And that is the story of how George Walker, by sheer undaunted courage and force of will and example, kept his ship afloat and saved his own and over three hundred lives from a horrible end in mid-ocean: the noblest victory he ever won.
When he presented himself before his owners they received him, says the writer, "with marks of esteem, and a joy equal to what had been the claim of the best success." One of the first questions Mr. Walker asked was, whether they were insured? The answer was, "No, nor ever would be in a ship where he commanded"—a remark which, while exceedingly andintentionally complimentary to the gallant Walker, scarcely represents a sound commercial attitude.
Walker's next command was a much more important one, for he was, as already stated, placed in charge of a squadron of privateers, all named after royal personages, and known collectively as "The Royal Family Privateers." The vessels were fitted out at Bristol, and were named:
Guns.Men.King George, George Walker, Commodore32300Prince Frederick, Hugh Bromedge, Captain26260Duke, Edward Dottin, Captain20260Princess Amelia, Robert Denham, Captain24150————102970
A formidable force, under such a commander. ThePrince Frederick, however, got aground in the Bristol Channel, and was compelled to put back and dock: so the three others set forth in company at the beginning of May 1746, and had only been a week at sea when they encountered three French line-of-battle ships, from which Walker escaped in the dark by the ruse of leaving a lantern floating in a cask, while he extinguished all lights and altered his course; but thePrincess Ameliaparted company and eventually put into Lisbon.
A little later, at Safia, on the coast of Morocco, having chased a small French vessel into the bay, Walker determined to cut her out that night with his boats—an operation not often undertaken by privateers, though numerous feats of the most daring description have been performed in this connection by the Navy. Walker considered, however, that he and hismen were fully capable of planning and executing such an enterprise, and, having given detailed directions, he despatched three boats under the command of Mr. Riddle, his second lieutenant, on this dangerous service, about midnight. As is frequently the case with such undertakings, the original plan had to be modified, and they found the Frenchmen very much on the alert. The lieutenant in command was very severely wounded immediately, but nothing would stop Walker's men, and, after a tussle, they carried the vessel and brought her out in triumph. As she was a smart little craft Walker made her a tender in place of thePrincess Amelia, naming herPrince Georgeand putting his first lieutenant, John Green, in command. Mr. Green, we are told, would have been sent in charge of the cutting-out expedition, but that he had expressed the opinion that it would be better to wait until daylight. "Sir," says Mr. Walker, "though I have no reason to doubt your prowess, yet I never will send a man upon an expedition to which he has any objection." He gave him the command, however, of the new tender, displaying his customary fairness of dealing with all his subordinates.
During this eight months' cruise "The Royal Family" made some valuable prizes and put into Lisbon with more than £220,000 to the good, and without a single man having been killed.
Having overhauled and refitted his ships—now increased to six in number by the addition of thePrince Georgeand thePrince Edward, a vessel purchased at Lisbon—Walker put to sea again on July 10th, 1747and in October following occurred the most remarkable action in which he was concerned. He had, before this, lost one of his squadron, thePrince Edward, by a very extraordinary accident. Crowding sail to come up with her consorts, being astern, she was suddenly observed to reel, and immediately foundered, going down stern first. The survivors—her captain and two men only—stated that the mainmast had slipped out of the "step" in the bottom of the ship—or more probably had displaced the step by the strain upon it—and the heel of the mast had gone through her bottom, the mast, with all the sails set, falling over the stern.
On October 6th the squadron had been watering in Lagos Bay—that same harbour in which we saw Bernard D'Ongressill so scurvily treated by the Portuguese nearly five hundred years previously—and theKing GeorgeandPrince Frederick, coming out about five o'clock in the morning, leaving thePrincess Ameliastill at anchor, saw a large sail standing to the northward. Walker made the signal to chase, and sent a small vessel, a recent prize, into the anchorage to hurry up thePrincess Amelia. TheDukeandPrince George, having completed their watering earlier, were in sight; but, after chasing for about an hour, for some unexplained reason discontinued—or could not get up.
The chase, seeing she was likely to be hemmed in by the two nearest ships, kept away to the westward, making all sail; and Walker, with his two ships, chased her until noon, when theKing Georgewas nearly up with her, thePrince Fredericksome distance to the southward. They had not yet disclosed each other'snationality, but Walker realised by this time that the stranger was a very big ship, and he was within gunshot of her, practically alone; and then it suddenly fell a flat calm, and the chase, hoisting her colours, ran out her guns, disclosing herself as a 74-gun ship. The colours, however, hung down in the calm, and it was impossible to tell whether they were Spanish or Portuguese—for the two ensigns were very similar at that time, though they are not so now. After about an hour, during which thePrince Frederickcould get no nearer, and Walker and his big opponent were eyeing each other curiously, the latter ran in her lower deck guns, and closed the ports. This looked as though she was a treasure ship, unwilling to fight if she could avoid it; and, as a matter of fact, she was just that; only she had already—after being chased by some English men-of-war—landed her treasure, to the value of some three millions sterling, at Ferrol, and was on her way to Cadiz. However, seeing her somewhat shy, Walker's officers and men were all for fighting; and when a light breeze sprang up about five o'clock, and the big ship again made sail on her original course, theKing Georgeat once continued the chase, leaving thePrince Frederick, which did not get the breeze so soon, yet further astern.
At eight o'clock, in bright moonlight, Walker was within speaking distance, cleared for action, his men lying down at their quarters. He hailed in Portuguese: no reply. Then he hailed in English, asking her name; in reply, she asked his name, also in English. "TheKing George!" replied Walker, and then camea thundering broadside, dismounting two guns and bringing down the maintopsail yard. Walker's men were on their feet and had their broadside in in a few seconds; and then this ridiculously uneven contest went on, the huge Spanish ship—her name, theGlorioso—towering above the other, and both letting drive with guns and small arms for all they were worth. Why theKing Georgewas not sunk it is impossible to say. The chronicler of the fight says that the Spaniards did not manage to fire their broadsides regularly but only a few guns at a time, while theKing George'smen got theirs in with great precision and regularity, and also maintained a very hot fire of musketry, under the control of the Captain of Marines.
This desperate conflict was maintained for three hours, at close range—so close at times that some burning wadding from the Spaniard's guns set fire to theKing George'smainsail. The incident, as Sir John Laughton remarks, was unique in naval warfare; there have been instances in which a vessel of vastly inferior force has contrived to maim or delay her big antagonist until assistance arrived, and so to contribute very materially to her capture, advantage being taken of superior speed and handiness, or circumstances of wind and sea, and so on; but for a vessel of theKing George'ssize to maintain a close ding-dong action with a 74-gun ship, in fine weather, for this space of time is entirely unprecedented. Had Walker been in command of a king's ship, he would certainly have been held blameless if he had run away; but running away, even from a vastly superiorforce, was not, as we have seen, a proceeding which found any favour in the eyes of George Walker; and there was, of course, the strong inducement of the assumed treasure, which, after all, was not there.
The writer attributes their immunity from destruction and their trifling casualties—one killed and fifteen wounded—partly to the very closeness of the action, the Spanish ship's shot not hitting the hull; and also, to the fact that, probably from the overloading of the guns with several shot, in the hope of knocking a huge breach in theKing George'sside, the shot came with such reduced force that, when they hit, they did not penetrate. Walker's device of high bulwarks of elm planking, before alluded to, he likewise considers had a share in their miraculous salvation.
the 'action'
ACTION BETWEEN THE SPANISH 74-GUN SHIP "GLORIOSO" AND THE "KING GEORGE" AND "PRINCE FREDERICK" OF THE "ROYAL FAMILY" PRIVATEERS
Walker, he says, "fought and commanded with a calmness almost peculiar to himself"; and his high example conduced to order and discipline even in the thickest of the fight. When the mainsail was set on fire he ordered some hands aloft to extinguish it, and when another man was somewhat officiously following, he called him down. "I have sent men enough aloft for the business, in my opinion; if they fail in their duty, I'll send for you"; such an episode, in the thick of a terrible engagement, is significant, indeed, of calmness and absolute self-possession, which is heroic in its measure.
The action was fought, we are told, so close under Cape St. Vincent that the castle on the Cape repeatedly fired upon the combatants, "as a neutral power commanding peace"; in other words, as a protest againstthe action being fought in Portuguese waters, within gunshot of the coast.
By half-past ten thePrince Frederickcame up to the assistance of her consort. At this time theKing Georgehad received so much damage aloft, that there was no choice but to remain, for she could not have run away. "All our braces and maintopsail yard were shot away, the foremast quite disabled, and the mainmast damaged. We could not work our ship, and bravery became now a virtue of necessity."
There was no mention of striking the colours, however; and half an hour later theGloriosodesisted from action, and retired from the field. When, at daybreak, Captain Dottin, of thePrince Frederick, came on board, his first inquiry was as to whether the commodore was alive; then, seeing the ship's company so nearly intact, and his friends among the officers unhurt, he embraced the gallant commodore in the enthusiasm of his joy and admiration.
Despatching thePrince Frederick, with theDukeandPrince George, in pursuit of the enemy, Walker set to work to refit; and then a fresh alarm arose, for a large sail was seen approaching from the eastward. She proved, however, to be a friend, theRussell, an 80-gun ship, and Walker lost no time in acquainting her captain with the state of affairs.
Helpless in his dismantled vessel, Walker watched with his glass the progress of the chase, his own three vessels nearing the Spaniard, with the giantRussellcrowding sail to join them; but he could not account for a fourth vessel which now seemed to be in the fight.
The headmost ship, apparently thePrince Frederick, now engaged the Spaniard hotly, and Walker, speaking his thoughts aloud to his officers, deplored her captain's unwariness in not waiting for the others to come up; for Dottin was blazing away for all he was worth, and Walker's experience immediately suggested a new danger. "Dottin will fire away all his cartridges at too great a distance, and afterwards be obliged to load with loose powder, by which some fatal accident may happen."
Scarcely had he spoken, keeping his glass upon the vessel, when simultaneously with the discharge of a broadside a pillar of smoke and flame shot up. "Good heavens, she's gone!" cried Walker. "Dottin and all his brave fellows are no more!" One of the officers suggested that it was merely the smoke of her last broadside. "It's a dreadful truth you tell," replied Walker, still looking through his glass, "for 'tis the last she will ever give!" And when the smoke cleared away there was no ship to be seen! This terrible incident so affected the ship's company that Walker called the officers aside into the companionway in order to admonish them that they must keep up an air of cheerfulness before the men, who might otherwise be backward in fighting; and while he spoke there was a series of sudden explosions, mingled with cries of alarm. Running out on deck, they found the crew in a panic, some clinging outside the ship, others climbing out on the bowsprit, in readiness to jump overboard when the ship should blow up. The alarm was caused by a seaman stepping upon anumber of loaded muskets, which were covered with a sail, and firing one off, which quickly set the others going, some spare ammunition also exploding; bullets were flying about, the sail was on fire, and the men could not be persuaded to quit their temporary refuge, so completely scared were they by this sudden din, following closely upon the tragic occurrence they had just witnessed. The captain and officers extinguished the fire, assisted by the chaplain—"a very worthy gentleman"—apparently of the same type as that excellent parson described in "Midshipman Easy," who rendered such material assistance under similar circumstances, and was anxious to ascertain afterwards whether he had allowed his tongue too free play for one of his cloth; he had, but Jack Easy consoled him. "Indeed, sir, I only heard you say, 'God bless you, my men; be smart,' and so on."
Well, theRussell, aided by "The Royal Family," captured the Spaniard, of course, though she made a more stubborn fight than they expected, and theRussellwas very short of men. TheKing George, however, had no decisive news on the subject for some days, when, encountering their consort, theDuke, what was the joy on board upon learning that thePrince Frederickwas safe and sound! The vessel which so unhappily blew up was theDartmouth, a frigate which had come up, hearing the guns, to see the fun. Only seventeen of her crew were picked up by thePrince Frederick'sboats; one of them was an Irish lieutenant, O'Brien, who apologised to captain Dottin for his dress: "Sir, you must excuse the unfitness of mydress to come aboard a strange ship, but really I left my own in such a hurry that I had no time to stay for a change." He had been blown out of a port!
It was not until he was introduced to the Spanish captain, on board theRussell, that Walker learned that the treasure was safe at Ferrol—a great blow to him and his men; and on arriving at Lisbon he was, to his surprise, confronted by one of his owners, who blamed him severely for venturing the privateers against a man-of-war. Walker very justly replied, "Had the treasure, sir, been aboard, as I expected, your compliment had been otherways; or had we let her escape from us with that treasure on board, what had you then have said?"
Walker was then, in fact, treated very scurvily by the owners, if we are to believe the quite simple and apparently straightforward story of his friend and former officer, and was at the last hustled out of his ship, theKing George, at Lisbon, by a scandalous subterfuge. Probably avarice was at the bottom of all this sordid business; privateer owners had a very keen eye for the main chance, and did not set too much store by heroism—without profits!
Walker took his passage home in the packet, an armed vessel, commanded by an elderly and somewhat timid gentleman. They encountered an Algerine of greater force, and some of Walker's men who were on board were heard to remark that if their captain had commanded he would knock her out of the water; so two English merchants, who were passengers, begged the captain to turn over the fighting command to Walker.
This was actually done, and Walker, playing a clever game of bluff, sent the enemy off without firing a shot.
This is the last we hear of Walker at sea. We find him in gaol for debt, but the precise circumstances which induced his formerly very admiring owners to place him there are not quite clear. As we know, it was no disgrace in those days to be imprisoned for debt, and the process was, indeed, a remarkably easy one. As has already been remarked, it is impossible to believe that George Walker was otherwise than a man of strictest honour and probity: he proved himself almost quixotically so, in fact, for when, upon one occasion, a couple of rich East India ships offered him £1,000 to convoy them safely to Lisbon, he replied that "he would never take a reward for what he thought his duty to do without one"; nor would he accept the smallest present from them, after seeing them safely into port.
According toThe Gentleman's Magazine, George Walker died September 20th, 1777. Where he was buried does not appear; whether he was ever married or left any family is equally obscure.
One thing, however, is certain: he left behind him the reputation of a very noble and brave seaman, the idol of his men, the terror of his king's enemies. There is no eulogy which has been engraved upon the tombstones of our naval and military heroes which might not with justice have been included in George Walker's epitaph. So far as his opportunities went, he set an example which could scarcely have been improved upon.
the 'bart'
JEAN BART, A FAMOUS FRENCH PRIVATEER CAPTAIN
JEAN BART
Privateering was very much resorted to in France, from the middle of the seventeenth century onwards; it was greatly encouraged by the State, and frequently men-of-war were lent to private individuals or corporations, who maintained them at their own cost, and of course pocketed the proceeds of the prizes captured. Some of these were large and powerful vessels, mounting fifty or sixty guns, and, having been built for men-of-war, were far superior to most privateers, which were frequently merchant vessels adapted for the purpose. Their crews were very numerous, not infrequently outnumbering those of our 64-gun ships, and it was not of much use for any vessel of less force than these to tackle them.
One of these big privateers, in the year 1745, was engaged off the south coast of Ireland with the 40-gun shipAnglesea, Captain Jacob Elton, with a very sad and tragic result. TheAnglesea, having put into Kinsale to land some sick—her senior lieutenant being one—sailed again on March 28th, being one of the vessels ordered to command the entrance of the channel. On the following day, with a fresh breezeblowing, a large sail was reported to windward. Captain Elton, for some reason, assumed that this was his consort, theAugusta, of 64 guns; it was just twelve o'clock, so he ordered his boatswain to pipe to dinner, making no preparation for action. The stranger came down rapidly, displaying no colours, apparently—which should have aroused Elton's suspicion—and suddenly, when he was quite near, it was realised that the ornament on her quarter was in the French style.
Then, all in a hurry, they beat to quarters, and the English captain, in order to gain time for his preparations, made more sail, setting his foresail; but the wind was strong, with a lumpy sea, and the increased pressure of sail, as the gun's crews opened the lee ports, brought tons of water in on to the lower deck, threatening to water-log the ship.
The enemy—which was theApollon, 50 guns, fitted out as a privateer—had it all her own way. Passing under the stern of theAnglesea, she rounded to on her lee quarter, and delivered a heavy fire. The guns were not cleared away, there was a lot of water below, and in a minute or two sixty men were dead or wounded. The captain and master were killed by the first broadside, and the command of the ship thus devolved upon the second lieutenant, a young and inexperienced officer. He was in a very tight place. The Frenchman being on the lee quarter, he could not bear up and run, as he would have fallen on board the enemy, which carried many more men, and his ship meanwhile was under a heavy fire, which could notbe returned, his men falling fast. After consultation with the third lieutenant, he surrendered—and really it is difficult to see what else he could have done. Possibly an older man, of consummate skill and great experience, might have found a way of handling his ship so as, at least, to gain some respite; on the other hand, no such man would have had any business to find himself in this predicament.
So the lieutenant—Baker Phillips by name—hauled down his colours, and in due course was tried by court-martial for the loss of his ship. The court "was unanimously of opinion that Captain Elton, deceased, did not give timely directions for getting his ship clear or in a proper posture of defence, nor did he afterwards behave like an officer or a seaman, which was the cause of the ship being left to Lieutenant Phillips in such distress and confusion. And that Lieutenant Baker Phillips, late second lieutenant of the said ship, by not endeavouring to the utmost of his power after Captain Elton's death to put the ship in order of fighting, not encouraging the inferior officers and men to fight courageously, and by yielding to the enemy, falls under part of the tenth Article.[11]Theydo sentence him to death, to be shot by a platoon of musqueteers on the forecastle; ... but ... having regard to the distress and confusion the ship was in when he came to the command, and being a young man and inexperienced, they beg leave to recommend him to mercy."
That is to say, they felt bound, under the clause referred to in the Articles of War, to sentence him to death, but obviously hoped that the extreme penalty would not be inflicted under the circumstances—a very proper view to take. The recommendation, however, was ignored—it will be recollected that just at this period the British Navy was, for some reason, passing through a very unsatisfactory phase; courage and energy appeared often to be lacking—as in the instance of the treasure ships, in the previous year, when George Walker was compelled to witness the outrageous incapacity and supineness of the captains of the men-of-war. These men were acquitted—Lieutenant Baker Phillips was not. Perhaps it may be permitted to ask, would Captain Elton have been shot had he survived the action? His lieutenant was made an example of, and there is some story that a reprieve was refused on account of his Jacobite tendencies; no evidence appears to be forthcoming in support of this view. Another and very terrible tale in connection with the incident relates that Phillips'swife, after a reprieve had been refused, went in person to Queen Caroline and obtained one, with which she posted in feverish haste to Portsmouth; but the unhappy young officer, desiring to avoid the terrible pain of a final interview with her, had, in ignorance of her mission to the queen, requested that the hour of his execution might be hastened. When she arrived, he had already been shot. One can only hope that this story is not true; it is too terrible to dwell upon.
Well, that is how the privateerApollonscored off us. Five-and-thirty years later, in 1780, within a mile or two of the same spot, a still more powerful vessel, similarly commissioned—to wit, theComte d'Artois, of 64 guns—was overcome and captured by theBienfaisant, 64 guns, captain Macbride, after a smart action of over an hour. TheBienfaisantwas countenanced, more than assisted, by the presence of theCharon, 44 guns, which took little or no part in the action. The French loss was 21 killed and 34 wounded, while the British lost 3 killed and 23 wounded.
It was one of these privately maintained king's ships which was selected to convoy the young Pretender to Scotland in 1745; indeed, both theElizabeth, of 60 guns, and theDentelle, a much smaller vessel, in which the prince embarked, were of this class. The two vessels encountered the British 60-gun shipLion, off Ushant, and of course there was a fight. TheLionandElizabeth, pretty equally matched, and each commanded by a doughty fighter, blazed away at each other by the space of four or five hours, whenboth had had enough. Captain Brett, of theLion, while regretting that he had not been able to capture theElizabeth, was pleasing himself with the reflection that he had "spoiled her voyage"—and so he had, for she had 65 killed and 136 wounded, while her hull was fearfully battered, and she was compelled to make for the nearest French port. Brett took but little notice of the smaller craft, which, endeavouring at first to assist theElizabeth, was easily disposed of by theLion'sstern chasers, and hung about out of range until the big ships separated, when she proceeded on her voyage to Scotland. Brett must have been rather annoyed afterwards to think that he had not made a capture of theDentelle; but he had, in fact, spoiled their voyage very effectually, for theElizabethhad on board all the stores and munitions for the campaign in Scotland, and Charles Edward Stuart landed very empty-handed in consequence.
One of the most prominent among French privateer captains is Jean Bart; he is, in fact, perhaps somewhat unduly prominent, as it does not appear, from authentic accounts, that he performed any more wonderful or daring feats of seamanship and battle than some others. It may be that the many unfounded, or at least unsupported tales of his prowess—incredible tales, many of them—form the basis, to a large extent, of his immense popularity; or, on the other hand, this very popularity may have given rise to these exaggerated anecdotes. He was, without doubt, a very fine seaman, and a determined and capable commander, very worthy of the publicesteem, and his reputation gains nothing from wild inventions.
He was born in 1650, at Dunkirk, though his family is said to have been of Dieppe origin. He came of privateering, semi-piratical stock, and at the age of twelve he embarked as boy on board a Dunkirk smuggler, under a brutal, but capable ruffian named Jerome Valbué; his father's old boatswain, Antoine Sauret, accompanying him, apparently, as a kind of "sea-daddy"—and it appears to have been just as well that he had some one to stand between him and the skipper. After a four years' apprenticeship, young Bart, always enthusiastic and eager to learn, had acquired remarkable proficiency in seamanship and gunnery, and is said to have won the prize for the best marksman at the annual competition on the Dunes.
Thanks to Sauret's teaching and his own zeal, the lad was considered competent, at the age of sixteen, to fill the post of mate on a brigantine, theCochon Gras, of which the redoubtable Valbué was appointed commander.
Jean Bart and his elderly adviser, Sauret, were, however, destined soon to find employ elsewhere, the occasion of their leaving theCochon Grasbeing an exhibition of wanton cruelty on the part of their captain. The fact of the two having protested rendered it advisable that they should not remain.
M. Valbué, it appears, in common with many captains, both in the Navy and elsewhere at that period, still affected to be bound, together with hiscrew, by the Laws or Judgments of Oléron—a brutal code, dating from the twelfth century.
Valbué, half drunk, had been relating some wonderful tale of the miraculous intervention of a saintly bishop to save a fishing-boat, and proceeded to emphasise his own belief and his contempt for heretics by flinging his half-empty tin cider-mug at one Lanoix, a harmless Huguenot seaman. (Huguenots are habitually represented by the ordinary British writer as harmless, exemplary persons; a large number of them were, in fact, bloodthirsty, cruel, and seditious ruffians, who richly deserved all they got.)