Privateers and Privateering Part 7

The enemy approached, as was usually the practice, under English colours until within close range, when she shortened sail and hoisted French colours. The _Terrible_ was 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 the _Terrible's_ port quarter, delivered a most destructive fire, diagonally across her deck, killing and wounding a great number. So close were the two s.h.i.+ps, that the yardarms almost touched, and the _Terrible's_ people, 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 s.h.i.+p 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 the _Terrible's_ deck, 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 s.h.i.+p of considerably superior force, and probably had three times the number of the _Terrible's_ available crew at the commencement of the action. On board the English vessel nearly one hundred men were dead or wounded, the decks were c.u.mbered with their bodies, and only one officer was left untouched; they had not a score of men left to fight the s.h.i.+p, 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 the _Terrible_ for 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 s.h.i.+p was named the _Vengeance_, 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 n.o.ble 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 s.h.i.+p was the _Terrible_--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 breath In fighting for Britain and brave Captain Death.

A prize they had taken diminish'd their force, And soon the brave s.h.i.+p was lost in her course.

The French privateer and the _Terrible_ met, 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, b.a.l.l.s, 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 strong _Terrible_, 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 t.i.tle "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 the _Terrible_, And sink those Mounsiers all to h.e.l.l.

The _Vengeance_ was, in fact, captured about twelve months later by the _Hussar_, 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, ill.u.s.trating an incident which occurred during the American War of Secession, in 1778.

Liverpool merchants and s.h.i.+powners 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 s.h.i.+ps. He had served a short apprentices.h.i.+p 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 s.h.i.+p--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 s.h.i.+p 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 s.h.i.+pped 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 the _Mentor_, 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 s.h.i.+p, or Spanish East Indiaman, had been seen just previously in a given lat.i.tude.

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 a.s.sumed Spaniard, and found her readily enough; as he closed, he made out through his gla.s.s that she was pierced for 74 guns, and was, of course, in every respect a far more formidable craft than the lopsided _Mentor_. Handing the gla.s.s 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, the _Carnatic_, 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.

[Ill.u.s.tration: 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 fas.h.i.+on 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 partners.h.i.+p as s.h.i.+pbuilders, and the uncouth but lucky _Mentor_ continued her cruising, capturing two or three more prizes of trifling value. In 1782, however, while on her pa.s.sage home from Jamaica, she foundered off the Banks of Newfoundland, thirty-one of her crew peris.h.i.+ng.

Such is the story of Peter Baker's sudden rise of fortune, ill.u.s.trating 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 s.h.i.+p under the circ.u.mstances--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 the _Fame_, 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 s.h.i.+ps from Ma.r.s.eilles, 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 lucky enough 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 insh.o.r.e of the enemy.

At daybreak they were about six miles distant, and, upon seeing the _Fame_ approach 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 the _Fame_ swept on in silence until she was close to the largest s.h.i.+p; 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 succ.u.mbed. Putting an officer and seven men on board, with orders to look after _both_ s.h.i.+ps--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 s.h.i.+ps, to wit--_Deux Freres_, 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; and _Nancy_, 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.