CHAPTER XIX

[15] There still remains the question of Byron's flagship. She was certainly the Princess Royal when he arrived at New York; but as the Ardent, 64, was one of the vessels of his squadron, it is, of course, possible that he may subsequently have hoisted his flag on her temporarily.

CHAPTER XIX

Dropping down the river Delaware with several merchant vessels under convoy, Barney had reached Cape May Roads, just inside Delaware Bay, where he anchored, and was there discovered by a blockading squadron under Captain Mason, of the Quebec frigate.

Sending Rogers in to reconnoitre, and, if possible, attack, Mason endeavoured to sail a little higher up the bay, to prevent the American vessels running for the Delaware River, while Rogers, engaging the assistance of the Fair American, a privateer, went straight for the convoy. No sooner had he rounded Cape May, in sight of the Americans, than Barney, signalling his convoy to run for the river—the Quebec not having yet got far enough up to head them off, on account of the shoal water—endeavoured to put his ship in the way of the pursuers. The Fair American ran past him, with a broadside which was not returned, captured one vessel, chased another on shore, and then, in the endeavour to cut off three others, ran aground herself.

This cleared the field for a duel between the General Monk and the Hyder Ali, and they had a very pretty fight.

Barney, as the General Monk came on with the intention of boarding, delivered his broadside at pistol-range, and then frustrated the Englishman's plan of boarding by a ruse. Bidding the helmsman interpret his next order by "the rule of contrary," he shouted, as the vessels were on the point of fouling, "Hard a-port! Do you want him to run aboard us?"—the intention being that the order, distinctly audible on board the British vessel, should convey a false impression; for the helmsman, in accordance with the hint just received, put the helm hard a-starboard, the result being that the English vessel's jibboom became entangled in the Hyder Ali's fore-rigging. This is all very possible, and Barney was just the kind of man to have recourse to a ruse of this kind; but the relative positions of the ships at the moment are not technically described, so it is impossible to judge of the feasibility of the manœuvre, or of its efficacy. However, we are told that the Americans lashed the head-gear of the General Monk to their rigging, and raked her with their fire, to which she could make no effective return.

Rogers called his men to board, but the American defensive measures were too strong, and they fell back. Then ensued a conflict chiefly with small-arms, and there are some little stories in connection with it. Barney, it appears, had among his crew a number of backwoodsmen, crack shots, but little accustomed to the amenities of discipline. One of these men kept on asking his captain, whenever he came within earshot, where the musket which he was using was made. Barney, annoyed by this freedom, ignored him for a time, then asked him sharply why he wanted to know. "W-a-a-l," drawled the backwoodsman, "this 'ere bit o' iron is jes' the best smoothbore I ever fired in my life"—and he went on picking off the Britishers. Another drew Barney's attention to his next shot. "Say, Cap., do you see that fellow with the white hat?"—and in another moment the individual in the white hat leapt three feet in the air, and fell to rise no more. It was found, after the action, says the narrator, that every one of the Englishmen killed or wounded by musketry was struck either in the head or breast.

The Britishers, however, were not idle with their small-arms; Barney, jumping on the compass stand to see better what was going on, had his head shaved by a ball which perforated his hat. Another tore off part of his coat-tail. Upon this he ordered his Marine officer to direct his men's fire at the enemy's tops, and in a few minutes the tops were cleared.

Then a round-shot struck the binnacle, or compass stand, upon which Barney stood, and sent him flying. Just before this occurred he had had a vision of one of his officers, with the cook's axe uplifted, in act to floor a seaman who had got nervous, and was hiding behind the mainmast. The next moment Barney turned an involuntary somersault, and found the officer, who had dropped the cook's axe, standing over him in apprehension. Finding his captain unhurt—most of us would have been a good deal hurt under the circumstances, but perhaps Captain Barney came down on the spot, like a sixpence when a billiard-ball is knocked from under it—the stern officer resumed his murderous weapon, and made for the timid seaman again. But the latter had by this time realised that the cook's axe was a certainty and the enemy's fire a chance, so he returned to his quarters.

And so, with these little amenities, the fight went on; but it was a losing fight for the British. Rogers could not get his ship away. His guns—his stupid little carronades—were behaving in a fiendish manner, tumbling about and shooting anywhere except in the right direction; and his men were falling fast. His masts and rigging were so damaged that he could not handle the sails, and he was at length compelled to yield, himself severely wounded and many of his officers and men dead and dying around him; and so the General Monk changed hands again, and became once more the General Washington.

Captain Barney, without doubt, fought his craft with immense pluck and dexterity, and thoroughly deserved the victory; but it is extremely doubtful whether the superiority of force was not on his side. Neither account gives the tonnage of the two vessels. Robert Beatson, a good authority, gives the General Monk's armament as above described, and gives also a very different account of the action, ascribing Rogers's defeat chiefly to the inefficiency of his guns. He says, at the commencement, that the Hyder Ali "cut her boat adrift, and did everything else to get away, notwithstanding her superior force." The reader can take his choice.

This ends Joshua Barney's career as a privateer during this war. He was placed in command of the General Washington, and subsequently visiting Plymouth, he entertained on board his ship the friends who had aided his escape and a number of British officers, and bestowed a purse of gold upon Lord Mount-Edgecumbe's gardener, who had so opportunely opened the little gate for him.

There are other privateer heroes of this period who richly deserve notice, but space does not admit of a detailed account of their doings.

There was Jonathan Haraden, of Salem, for instance, conspicuous by his seamanlike skill and marvellous coolness under fire, as well as by his bold tactics in the presence of a superior force.

It is related that, upon a dark night in the Bay of Biscay, being then in command of the privateer General Pickering, of 180 tons and 16 guns, he came across the British privateer Golden Eagle, of 22 guns—as was afterwards discovered. Haraden was not aware of her name and force when he sighted her—at no great distance, of course; but, having neared her, as is stated, unobserved, he concluded that she was a vessel of superior force to his own. In the words of the narrator, "having formed a fairly accurate idea of her force," he resolved to have recourse to a ruse—it was a very foolhardy proceeding, but it was justified by success. Running up alongside the English vessel, he hailed the captain while the two ships, at close quarters, plunged along together. "This is an American frigate of the largest class; if you don't surrender immediately, I'll blow you out of the water!"

Now, Haraden's craft was of 180 tons, and an American frigate of the largest class at that time—the year 1780—would be at least 800 tons; the two vessels were close together, and we have seen that the American captain had, some time previously, been able to estimate the size and probable strength of the other; so what was the use of shouting such a fable to the Britisher? Any seaman of moderate experience would ridicule the idea of mistaking a vessel of 180 tons, close alongside, even at night, for a first-class frigate, with her comparatively large hull and immense, towering spars. Some of the English privateer captains whom we have been discussing would have had a very short reply for Haraden—"Frigate, be d——d!" and a broadside; and it was really very lucky for the American that he had dropped upon a "soft thing" in finding a British skipper so extremely unsophisticated as to be deceived for a moment. However, the captain of the Golden Eagle chanced to be the one man in a thousand who would be so taken in, and he hauled down his colours without firing a shot! Had he been a naval officer, he would have had to answer at a court-martial for his conduct, and it is impossible to imagine any punishment for such an offence, short of death. However, nothing succeeds like success; Haraden—according to the story, as narrated by Mr. Maclay—made good his piece of "bounce," and took possession; and the most appropriate comment appears to be that each captain got what he deserved.

Shortly afterwards Captain Haraden engaged a privateer—the Achilles—of vastly superior force, off Bilbao, so close in shore that the Spaniards crowded the headlands in hundreds to see the fun. Haraden, by superior seamanship, succeeded in beating off his big antagonist and in recovering the Golden Eagle, which the enemy had recaptured but could not hold, and which had on board an officer and prize crew from the Achilles. So the balance was in the American's favour.

An onlooker—one Robert Cowan—is reported to have said that the General Pickering looked like a longboat in comparison with the Achilles, and that "Haraden fought with a determination that seemed superhuman; and, although in the most exposed positions, where the shot flew around him, he was all the while as calm and steady as amid a shower of snowflakes."

Another of Captain Haraden's exploits was the capture of "a homeward-bound king's packet from one of the West India islands," under very dramatic circumstances, the American captain, his watch in one hand and a lighted match in the other, with only a single round of ammunition remaining, giving the battered Britisher five minutes in which to surrender. But surely some less vague relation is due before such a story can be accepted—the name of the packet, her force, the date, latitude and longitude, and so forth.

However, Captain Haraden was, no doubt, a fair specimen of a very fine class—the Salem skippers—and Americans have every cause for being proud of him.

CHAPTER XX

One of the most daring and skilful privateer captains during this war was Thomas Boyle. His first command was the Comet, a staunch, fast-sailing schooner, and he lost no time in getting to work, starting upon his first cruise in July 1812, within a month of the declaration of war.

Returning in November, after capturing several vessels, he refitted his craft and prepared to set forth again. There was more difficulty, however, in getting out upon this occasion, as the English had a strong squadron blockading Chesapeake Bay.

Waiting for a dark, squally night, Boyle made his venture on December 23rd, and all went well until near daybreak, when he suddenly found himself under the guns of a frigate, which let drive a broadside at him. The Comet sustained but little damage, however, and got clear away, heading for the coast of Brazil, where Boyle learned that some English vessels were about to sail from Pernambuco.

This information proved to be correct, and on January 14th they were discovered, standing out to sea—three brigs and a ship—i.e. a larger vessel full-rigged. Boyle was prepared to find the merchant vessels armed, but did not reckon upon a very obstinate resistance from them. He stood out to sea, so as to be able easily to get between the English vessels and the coast; and about three o'clock he put his helm up and gave chase. The fast schooner soon neared the other ships; and then Boyle discovered that he was in for a more exciting adventure than he had anticipated, for one of the brigs was obviously a man-of-war, of formidable strength, though he had been informed that there were no British war-vessels in the neighbourhood.

However, he put a bold face on, cleared for action, and steered for the cruiser, hoisting his colours as he came abreast of her. She replied with Portuguese colours, and hailed that she would send a boat on board. Boyle, distrustful, but wishing to ascertain the real nationality of the stranger, hove to and awaited her boat; for he did not see what a Portuguese man-of-war had to do with convoying British vessels. Well, nobody else can see it, either; but she turned out to be a genuine Portuguese, and the officer gave Boyle a great idea of her force, telling him that the merchantmen were under his charge, and must not be molested.

"This is an American cruiser, here are my papers, and I am going to take these English vessels if I can. I don't recognise your right to interfere, and I shall fire upon you if you do."

To this plain statement of the case the Portuguese officer replied that his ship had orders to protect the merchantmen, and that he would be very sorry if anything disagreeable occurred.

"Oh, so shall I," said Boyle; "very sorry; but if you oppose me, I shall fire into you."

The Portuguese officer returned to report to his captain, promising to come back presently. This, however, he did not do. It was by this time quite dark, and Boyle, hailing to know when he might expect the boat, was asked to send his boat; but he did not quite like this plan—indeed, it was highly suspicious; so he replied that he did not care about sending his boat away in the dark.

Accordingly, he "let draw" his sails, and was soon among them, hailing the ship to heave-to as he romped past her, having great way on the schooner. Finding no attention paid to his demand, he tacked and came alongside the ship, and opened fire upon her and one of the brigs—the man-of-war being close on his heels, and speedily joining in the fray.

All five vessels, under a press of sail, were now running together in a ruck, the Comet, from her superior sailing qualities, being compelled to tack and manœuvre to maintain her position. There was a bright moon, but presently the smoke from the guns accumulated in a great cloud, obscuring the view, so it was difficult to tell one vessel from another. This was quite an agreeable arrangement for Captain Boyle, as he could make no mistake, while the others were in constant dread of hitting a friend—and probably did so occasionally.

This running fight lasted until nearly midnight. The Portuguese fired away whenever he could do so without risk of hitting his convoy, but made wretched practice, while Boyle took but little notice of him, sticking to his prey tenaciously, until the ship and one brig surrendered, much cut up; but the Comet's boat, going to take possession, was struck by a broadside from the Portuguese, and returned, almost sinking. Then the privateer and the man-of-war had a set-to alone, the latter eventually sheering off, but hovering near, evidently watching for a chance.

Boyle, however, managed to send a prize crew on board the brig. The captain of the ship hailed that he was severely damaged, almost sinking, and his rigging cut to pieces; but he would endeavour to follow, as ordered, if he could get his ship under command.

Standing by his prize until daybreak, Boyle saw the war-brig again bearing down upon him; he immediately tacked and went to meet her. But the Portuguese had apparently had enough of it; she managed to take the ship and one brig with her into Pernambuco, the two merchantmen in an almost sinking condition, masts tottering, sails cut to pieces, leaving Boyle with his one prize—a rich one. It was altogether an extraordinary affair, for the Comet only carried 14 guns and about 120 men; and the Portuguese brig, seen afterwards by some Americans at Lisbon, was found to be a very formidable vessel, heavily armed. Why she was convoying British vessels, Portugal not being at war with America, does not appear to have been explained. Her name is not given.

This incident affords a good indication of the character of Thomas Boyle; he found the Comet so superior in speed, as a rule, to any vessel, small or great, which he encountered that he used sometimes to sail round a ship of superior force, just out of range of her guns—thereby vastly amusing himself and his crew, and greatly annoying the other man. By pursuing these tactics upon one occasion, he secured the retreat of a prize, keeping a British man-of-war brig engaged in trying to catch him, while the prize got safely away.

The Comet made seven-and-twenty prizes; and Captain Boyle was then placed in command of the Chasseur, a more formidable vessel, mounting sixteen long 12-pounders. She is said to have been one of the fastest and most beautiful vessels afloat, and in her Boyle had a most successful career. The last and most important action he fought was with the British man-of-war schooner St. Lawrence, of 13 guns—an American-built vessel, formerly the Atlas, privateer, and captured by the British in July 1813.

This was on February 26th, 1815, off the coast of Cuba, when Boyle, about 11 a.m., gave chase to a schooner apparently running before the wind. She was discovered to be a man-of-war, with a convoy, just visible from aloft, as was imagined, in company. The Chasseur gained, though not very fast, and the stranger presently hauled nearer to the wind, apparently anxious to escape. At 12.30 Boyle showed his colours and fired a gun, but the other made no sign, continuing her efforts to escape, and losing her foretopmast through the press of sail she carried. The Chasseur now came up rapidly, and at one o'clock the chase fired a gun and hoisted English colours.

Watching her narrowly, Boyle made out only three gun-ports on one side, and there appeared to be very few people on deck. So he cracked on his canvas, anxious to get alongside and make short work of her; and, not anticipating serious fighting, made no great preparations for action.

When, however, he ran up within pistol-shot, about half-past one, a sudden change came over the English vessel—port-covers were triced up, showing her full armament, with a crowd of men at quarters, who gave three cheers and promptly put in a broadside. Boyle had been caught napping for once.

He and his men did not take long, however, to recover themselves. The Chasseur at this time had only 14 guns on board, according to American accounts, having sacrificed some on a former occasion in escaping from a British frigate. She is put down in Sir W. Laird Clowes's "Royal Navy" as carrying 24 guns. This, however, is an error.

However this may be, Boyle got to work, hammer and tongs; came to close quarters, ran his foe aboard, and, in a quarter of an hour from the first shot, the Englishman surrendered!

The equality of the two vessels, or rather, to be precise, the slight preponderance of force in the Chasseur's favour, is dwelt upon in detail by Mr. Maclay (page 296). "Here," he says, "we have an admirable opportunity to compare the relative merits of American and British man-of-warsmen; for the St. Lawrence, being built and equipped by Americans, deprives our friends, the English, of their oft-repeated cry that our vessels were better built, etc. The Chasseur carried 14 guns and 102 men as opposed to the St. Lawrence's 13 guns and 76 men. Both vessels were schooners."

In view of the categorical statement which ends this paragraph, Mr. Maclay would have done well to take into consideration the illustration of the action which appears opposite page 298, a replica of that in Mr. Coggleshall's book, in which the American vessel is clearly a brig. One does not, of course, place much reliance upon details in illustrations of this class, as proving or disproving important statements, and the draftsman has represented the British schooner "all on end" aloft, whereas she had lost her foretopmast before the action commenced. But what says Mr. Coggleshall? "The Chasseur was a fine, large brig" (page 367); and he was a seaman, so he took care that his illustration should be technically correct and in agreement with the text, with regard, at least, to the rig of the vessels.

This discrepancy naturally arouses some suspicion as to other details, and a perusal of the minutes of the court-martial upon Lieutenant James Edward (not Henry Cranmer) Gordon,[16] held at Bermuda, April 21st, 1815, throws considerable light upon the matter.

Lieutenant Gordon describes the Chasseur as a large brig, registering upwards of 400 tons, British measurement, and much superior to our 18-gun brigs. Making every allowance for unconscious exaggeration on the part of an officer upon his defence, this description accords with that of the American seaman, Coggleshall. Gordon further states that he had on board 52 seamen and officers, 6 passengers, and 6 boys, total 64, which was 12 short of his complement. Compare Captain Boyle's statement, in his letter to one of the owners, that the St. Lawrence had on board "a number of soldiers, marines, and some gentlemen of the navy, passengers"; in another place "eighty-nine men, beside several boys." The crew of the Chasseur, according to the evidence of some officers of the St. Lawrence, admitted in conversation that they had 119 on board, though some were away in prizes.

The officers of the St. Lawrence, on their oath, state that there were 48 men at quarters, and that the long 9-pounder was not in action, as they had not the men to man it.

There is no mention, either in Gordon's letter or the evidence, of any attempt to disguise the force of the schooner. She had no convoy with her, and simply tried to get away on account of the important despatches, which were weighted and thrown overboard before surrender.

Gordon and his officers were honourably acquitted, the court being satisfied that they had done their best against heavy odds, handicapped as they were by the loss of the foretopmast. The duration of the action is stated as half an hour, or more, by the schooner's officers; this, however, is not of very much importance.

Captain Boyle was, no doubt, a very brave man and a fine seaman, and the capture of a regular British war-vessel was a great feather in his cap; but it is really no very extraordinary feat for a large brig to take a schooner, fighting two guns less, and with a crew, including boys, in a minority of about forty—accepting the American statement as to the Chasseur's crew—and partially crippled aloft.

Captain Boyle, rendered more and more bold and enterprising by success, sent a "Proclamation of Blockade" of the British coast to be posted in Lloyd's Coffee House. This was a joke, said to be in imitation of the farcical "paper" blockades of the American coasts issued by British admirals, when they had not the ships present to enforce it. The British blockade, however, was no farce as a whole, as American writers testify.

[16] Mr. Maclay is not, however, responsible for this error, as Gordon is so named by Sir W. Laird Clowes, vol vi., p. 155. The mistake does not recur in the list of British losses, p. 555, the name being given as James Edward Gordon, as in the official report of the court-martial.

CHAPTER XXI

Reid at first contemplated cutting his cable and making a bolt for it, confident in the sailing powers of his fine craft. The wind, however, was light and uncertain, and the British brig had most of what there was at the moment, so he abandoned the idea, being informed by the Consul that he would not be molested as long as he remained at anchor—which was, of course, a very correct and proper assumption, Fayal being a Portuguese possession, and therefore a neutral port. So Captain Reid and his friends watched the brig, which was the Carnation—of 18 guns, commander, George Bentham—standing in through the gathering dusk. After the pilot had boarded her, she came on and anchored within pistol-shot of the General Armstrong.

The American did not feel at all easy as to the efficacy of neutral protection; and, while he discussed it, an English 74-gun ship and a 38-gun frigate appeared round the point—to wit, the Plantagenet, Captain Robert Lloyd; and the Rota, Captain Philip Somerville—and the brig immediately commenced signalling furiously to them.

This was getting a little too hot; and, seeing the brig presently send her boats to the line-of-battle ship. Captain Reid resolved, escape seaward being impossible, to be prepared for the worst. So, the wind having dropped, he got out his sweeps and slowly pulled his vessel further inshore.

The Carnation immediately got under way and followed; but the wind was too light, and she was unable to close the privateer.

About 8 p.m. the Americans—to give their version first—perceived four boats, armed and full of men, approaching. Captain Reid thereupon dropped his anchor with a spring on the cable, and swung his broadside upon the boats. When they came within hail he warned them not to approach nearer, on pain of being fired upon; they came on, however, and the privateer opened on them with cannon and small arms. "The boats promptly returned the fire, but so unexpectedly warm was the reception they got from the privateer that they cried for quarter and hauled off in a badly crippled condition."

Captain Reid says he had one man killed and his first officer wounded. Being convinced that he had not seen the last of the British boats, he hauled so close in that the vessel was almost touching the rocks, right under the castle, and anchored head and stern.

The Carnation was observed, about nine o'clock, towing in a number of boats; she could not, however, get close enough in to co-operate with them, as the wind was baffling and the tide was adverse; so the boats cast off and remained for some time under cover of a low reef of rocks.

There were eleven of them, according to the British official report—twelve, the Americans say—and they must have contained at least two hundred men; probably more, as some would be very large boats, pulling fourteen or sixteen oars. Such a force would have been considered far more than adequate for the cutting out of a French vessel; indeed, much larger vessels than the General Armstrong have often been captured by British boats with considerably less force than was despatched upon this occasion. We rather "fancied" ourselves in this matter of cutting out vessels from a harbour, and some splendid feats have undoubtedly been performed in this way. It was a sort of adventure which was considered essentially British in character; and justly so, as our enemies certainly never ventured much in the way of attempting to cut out our vessels.

Captain Lloyd and his merry men were now to learn the difference between French or Spanish seamen and Americans.

Meanwhile, the Governor had sent a letter to the British captain begging him to respect the neutrality of the port and abstain from further attack upon the privateer. Captain Lloyd replied by pointing out that the Americans had broken the neutrality of the port by firing into his boat without the least provocation. That he had intended to respect it, but was now determined to seize the privateer, and hoped the Governor would direct the fort to assist him.

About midnight the flotilla of boats advanced to the attack. They were allowed to approach within what used to be termed "point blank" range—a vague term, but equivalent, probably, to longish pistol-shot, and then came the round and grape from the privateer, doing considerable execution. The British responded with the guns mounted in their boats; then, with loud cheers, they raced for the General Armstrong, boarding her in several different places.

A most bloodthirsty and terrible conflict now took place. The British seamen, with characteristic dash and courage, climbed up the vessel's side on all hands, nothing daunted by the fierce resistance of her crew. The Americans, armed with every kind of weapon which would serve at close quarters, met them at arm's length with such ferocity that the boats were soon cumbered up with wounded and dying men, hurled back with pistol, pike, or cutlass. Wherever an English head cropped up above the bulwarks it was a target. And still they continued the attack, and with so much success in the bow that a number gained a footing on the forecastle, and the two American officers in charge forward were killed or disabled. Learning the state of affairs forward, Captain Reid, who, with the after-hands, had pretty well disposed of the attack at the stern, rallied his men, and, leading them forward on the run, drove the British over the bows into their boats—and that was the end of it. The fight lasted forty minutes—a tremendous time for such a desperate affair, proving the stubborn courage on both sides.

Two of the frigate Rota's boats, the American account states, were taken possession of, loaded with dead and dying men. "Of the forty or fifty men in these boats only seventeen escaped death, and they by swimming ashore. Another boat was found under the privateer's stern, commanded by one of the Plantagenet's lieutenants. All the men in it were killed but four, the lieutenant himself jumping overboard to save his life."

These details appear to corroborate the description of an eye-witness, given by Mr. Maclay; he says: "The Americans fought with great firmness, but more like bloodthirsty savages than anything else. They rushed into the boats sword in hand, and put every soul to death as far as came within their power."

The estimate of killed and wounded, as given by Mr. Maclay, respectively 120 and 130, is greatly exaggerated; the official account, with names of officers, seamen, and marines, gives it as 36 killed and 84 wounded—and quite enough, too!

The affair was disastrous for the British; but Captain Reid had, of course, to lose his ship. He received a communication at 3 a.m. from his Consul that Captain Lloyd was determined to have him, and at daybreak the Carnation stood in and engaged him. But, being unable at the moment to pick up the best berth for operations, the British vessel hauled off again, with some small damage from the American long gun. A second time she was more successful, and, bringing her heavy short guns to bear at close range, sealed the fate of the General Armstrong. Reid and his men, prepared for this ending, scuttled their ship and went on shore, upon which the English set her on fire, completing her destruction.

Captain Lloyd, in his report, declares that the General Armstrong was so close inshore that the attacking boats had not room to board on the inside; and that "every American in Fayal, exclusive of part of the crew, being armed and concealed in these rocks, which were immediately over the privateer, it unfortunately happened when these brave men gained the deck they were under the painful necessity of returning to their boats, from the very destructive fire kept up by those above them from the shore, who were in complete security."

This is rather a wild story, to which the thoughtful reader will not be disposed to yield full credence. With regard to the breach of neutrality, there is an affidavit, sworn before the British Consul, by Lieutenant Robert Faussett, of the Plantagenet, to the effect that he approached, unarmed, in the pinnace, for the purpose of ascertaining what vessel it was; and that the Americans warned them off when they were so close that the boat was shoved off with a boathook, and then opened fire; that Faussett called for quarter, shouting, "Don't murder us!" and they continued their attack; that he had no means of returning a shot, and could only retire, with two killed and seven wounded. He says nothing about the proximity of other boats, armed or otherwise; and so the Americans would appear to have been technically guilty of the initial breach of neutrality. Captain Lloyd, by way of showing that American privateers were addicted to this kind of thing, encloses a copy of the affidavit of William Wilson, late master of the transport brig Doris, which was captured, in defiance of the law of neutrality, on June 25th preceding, in the anchorage of Flores, another island of the Azores.

Captain Lloyd, however, got no credit out of this affair. The Lords of the Admiralty expressed very strong disapproval of the whole business; told him he ought to have known that the sending of a boat after dark was sure to lead to some such incident; that, if the Americans broke the neutrality of the port, his first business was to make representation to the Governor, and not take the law into his own hands; that the honour of the flag and the prestige of the British Navy, represented by a 74-gun ship, a frigate, and several sloops, was not likely to be endangered by the presence of one privateer—with other home truths and doses of common sense. And really, one cannot help agreeing cordially with their lordships, and heartily deploring the loss of so many brave men in a fiasco due to thorough bad management.

A fortnight later the boats of the British frigate Endymion, Captain Henry Hope, made an attempt to carry the Prince de Neufchatel—a very successful privateer, but why such a clumsy name?—off Nantucket, with very similar results. The fight was even more desperate than in the case of the General Armstrong, the privateer having only nine of her crew untouched, while the British casualties amounted to fully half of the men engaged. The privateer escaped.

Such are some of the incidents of the two American wars; of this type were the men—or many of them—who commanded the privateers. The British records of the period, during the war of 1812, bear full testimony to their success, and the officers of the Royal Navy come in for some rough handling by the Press—as in The Times of February 11th, 1815: "The American cruisers daily enter in among our convoys, seize prizes in sight of those that should afford protection, and, if pursued, 'put on their sea-wings' and laugh at the clumsy English pursuers. To what is this owing? Cannot we build ships? It must indeed be encouraging to Mr. Madison to read the logs of his cruisers. If they fight, they are sure to conquer; if they fly, they are sure to escape."

That the Americans have the knack of building faster sailing-vessels than ours is a fact which we have been compelled to accept. Not that our smartest clippers would be beaten, as a matter of course, by any of theirs; but, taking it all round, an American who wants to turn out a specially swift sailing vessel will almost always eclipse our efforts in the same direction. Are we not still trying in vain to win back the "America" Cup? The long, rakish craft, of comparatively small beam and tapering lines, was no doubt originally an American production.

These swift vessels, sailed by such men as Boyle, Haraden, Barney, Coggleshall, and others, were both hard to catch and bad to beat. The sentence quoted above from The Times sums up the situation pretty accurately; and, this being the case, it is all the more to be regretted that the accounts of their exploits should so constantly be tainted with obvious exaggerations, or embellished with incredible little anecdotes.

SOME MORE ODD YARNS

CHAPTER XXII

Here is a very interesting letter, describing an action between the Princess Royal packet, Captain John Skinner, and a French privateer of vastly superior force. It is written by one of the passengers, who "plied the small arms with much effect."

"I have at last the pleasure to inform you of my arrival here, the 14th instant, after a very tedious passage. We left Falmouth on June 12th, in company with the Grantham packet, bound to Jamaica, which kept with us five days. Four days after, on the morning of June 21st, we fell in with a French privateer; at five o'clock she made sail after us. We had light airs and a smooth sea—all sails set. At midday, we triced up our boarding-nettings and made clear for action, with our courses up. The privateer, towards the afternoon, came up with us fast, by the assistance of her sweeps. At 7 p.m. our men were all at quarters. She hoisted English colours, firing a shot,[17] which we returned, and she answered by a gun to leeward. At this time she was within cannon-shot, but, it growing dark, kept in our wake; and we turned in, not expecting an attack till next morning. However, before daylight, at half-past three in the morning, she came within pistol-shot, and fired a broadside of great guns, swivels, etc., which we immediately returned, and kept up a general fire with our cannon and small arms. Our force was only two 6-pounders, and four 4-pounders; of which six guns we got five on one side to bear on them. We mustered thirty men and boys, exclusive of Captain Skinner and his master, besides thirteen passengers and four servants: in all forty-nine.

"The privateer was a low brig, apparently mounting twelve or fourteen guns, and full of men. Our guns were extremely well plied; a lieutenant, going to join the St. Albans man-of-war, was captain of one of our 6-pounders, and the rest of us passengers plied the small arms with much effect. The engagement continued, without intermission, for two hours, when she out with her sweeps, left off firing, and rowed off, for it was near calm, there not being wind enough to carry us a knot through the water. As she was rowing off we got our two stern-chasers, the 6-pounders, to bear upon her, and hit her twice in her counter, which must have gone through and through, for it caused great noise and confusion on board, and soon after we saw two men at work over her stern. At six o'clock, being out of cannon-shot, we ceased firing, and set about repairing our damage. She had some swivels fixed in her tops, which would have done us considerable mischief, had they not been drove from them early in the action, which was Captain Skinner's first object at the beginning of the engagement.

"Thank God, we had no one killed; most of their shot went above us. The boarding-nettings, directly over our quarter-deck, were shot away, as their principal force seemed to aim at the passengers, who plied fourteen muskets to some advantage, and annoyed the privateer much.

"Captain Skinner conducted himself well; it was no new business to him. His orders were given coolly and everything done with great precision and regularity. I believe you know that he lost his right arm in an engagement on board of a frigate last war.

"I cannot omit mentioning that a lady (a sister of Captain Skinner), who, with her maid, were the only female passengers, were both employed in the bread-room during the action making up papers for cartridges; for we had not a single four-pound cartridge remaining when the action ceased.

"Our sails were shot through, rigging very much cut, our spars and boat upon deck shot through, several grape and round-shot in our bows and side, and a very large shot, which must have been a 9-or 12-pounder, in our counter. The ship proved a little leaky after the action, but she got pretty tight again before our arrival. Captain Skinner was slightly wounded, but is now well."

This plain and very credible story was afterwards supplemented by the independent testimony of an American gentleman, who was a prisoner on board the privateer during this engagement. She was the Aventurier, and this gentleman states:

"That her force was fourteen long French 4-pounders, and two 12-pounders; that she had eighty-five men on board at the time, of whom two were killed and four wounded in the action. That all her masts were shot through, her stays and rigging very much cut; that when she got to Bordeaux she was obliged to have new masts and a complete set of new rigging. They supposed, on board the privateer, that there was not a single shot fired from the packet that did not take effect: which seems probable, for, though so low in the water, she had nineteen shot in her bottom under her wale.[18] At the time there were on board thirty English and American prisoners. She was so peppered that she would certainly have been made a prize of, could the packet have pursued her; and was so cut to pieces by the action that she afterwards ran from everything until she got into Bordeaux to refit; the shots that raked her as she moved off went quite through, and caused much confusion."

This is a very pretty tale of pluck and skill combined. The reproach which has been laid against the British Navy in this—1798—and subsequent years of inexpertness in gunnery, certainly could not have been levelled against the crew of the Princess Royal, who put in their 4-and 6-pounder shot in such businesslike fashion, while the passengers picked off the dangerous swivel-men in the tops. The two undaunted women quietly making cartridge-bags in the bread-room rounds off the picture very agreeably.