GEORGE WALKER
In the year 1745 some merchants of London fitted out three
privateers--the _Prince Frederick_, 28 guns, 244 men, commanded by
Captain James Talbot, who was in chief command; the _Duke_, of 20 guns,
150 men, Captain Morecock; and the _Prince George_, 20 guns, 134 men.
This little squadron sailed from Cowes on June 2nd, and on the 7th a
frightful disaster befell them, the _Prince 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 unfortunate _Eurydice_, 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 the _Prince 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 the _Marquis d'Antin_, 450 tons, 24
guns, and 68 men, commanded by Magon Serpere; the _Louis Erasme_, 500
tons, 28 guns, and 66 men, commanded by Pedro Lavigne Quenell; and the
_Notre 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.
[Illustration: 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. The _Duke_, to windward, attacked
first; Talbot afterwards engaged the _Marquis d'Antin_ for three hours,
when she struck, though the _Prince Frederick_ was for a while between
two fires, the _Louis Erasme_ getting on her bow. When the _Marquis
d'Antin_ surrendered the other attempted to flee, but was caught and
captured. Meanwhile, Captain Morecock had been hotly engaged with the
_Notre Dame de Deliverance_, which, however, realising that her consorts
had struck, crowded sail and contrived to escape--the _Duke_ being
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 L850; the officers, of course, receiving much larger sums,
in proportion to their rank. The owners' share was not less than
L700,000; 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 the
question 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 the ship _Duke 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 way on 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
the _Duke William_ started 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 the
_Mars_, of 26 guns and 130 men, her consort being the _Boscawen_, 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 the _Boscawen_, 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 the _Boscawen_, 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 the _Boscawen_ to 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, Walker and 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 the _Boscawen_, 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--the
_Fleuron_--was sent in chase of the _Mars_, 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 his stern guns, the
enemy replying with his bow-chasers by the space of over two hours. The
_Mars_, however, was not a brilliant sailer, and by this time the
74--the _Neptune_--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 the _Fleuron_ to 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 nature _had_ been discharged from
the _Mars_. 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 a bribe
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, the _Mars_ was captive, while the _Boscawen_ had 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 the _Fleuron_--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 the _Mars_ put his helm up and ran to leeward, hoping to draw off
one of the ships after him; in which he was successful, the _Captain_, a
70-gun ship, giving chase, and eventually recapturing the _Mars_.
The other three ships were the _Hampton Court_, 70 guns, and the
_Sunderland_ and _Dreadnought_, each of 60 guns. The _Sunderland_ lost a
spar, and dropped astern, but the other two were nearly alongside the
French ships by sunset, the _Dreadnought_, 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. The _Captain_ was commanded by
Captain Thomas Griffin, senior officer of the squadron, who detached
himself to chase the _Mars_, and gave, as an excuse, when he was tried
by court-martial, that he thought the _Mars_ was the only man-of-war,
and the two larger vessels her convoy. The court apparently accepted
this flimsy story--although the _Captain_ was nearer than the other
ships, and no one else had any such notion--but the Service generally
did not.
Captain Savage Mostyn, of the _Hampton Court_, hung about the French
ships without firing a shot, waiting for the _Dreadnought_ to 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 the _Hampton 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 the _Hampton 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 the _Fleuron_, that the latter acceded to his request that
the crew of the _Mars_ might be landed at once, on the day after their
arrival, and might receive every possible 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 the _Fleuron_ none 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 the _Fleuron_ had 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 the _Fleuron_; 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 of his 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 recaptured
_Mars_, of his whereabouts, and had sent him fresh letters of credit,
scarcely expected him so soon.
The _Mars_ being repurchased, the two vessels were again fitted out for
a cruise, the very cautious captain of the _Boscawen_ being replaced by
Walker's first lieutenant, who, however, was placed in command of the
_Mars_. Walker selected the _Boscawen_ as 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 the _Boscawen's_ men, 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 the _Boscawen's_ crew; 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 the _Mars_, Walker put to sea on April 19th, 1745,
and a month later fell in with the privateer _Sheerness_, 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. The _Boscawen_ left the other astern, and about
nine o'clock the enemy formed line, and were soon made out to be armed
vessels, awaiting attack. This was odds enough to discourage most men,
and the _Sheerness_ being 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 the
_Boscawen_ sailed 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 men sick, 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 the _Boscawen_, 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 the
_Boscawen_ without 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 battered _Boscawen_; 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 the
_Sheerness_, 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 the
_Boscawen's_ casualties 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, the
_Catharina_, which he subsequently bought as a tender, naming her the
_George_; 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 that I 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.