The recapture of the _Emily Saint Pierre_ reminds us of the fighting
days of the wars with France and America, when several similar events
took place; but during the whole course of English naval history we find
no deed more gallant or more worthy of record. The _Emily Saint Pierre_
was a large Liverpool East Indian trader, commanded by Captain William
Wilson. She left Calcutta on the 27th of November 1861, with orders to
make the coast of South Carolina, to ascertain whether there was peace
or war. If peace had been declared, Captain Wilson was to take a pilot
and enter the port of Charleston; if there was a blockade, he was to
proceed to Saint John's, New Brunswick.
On the 8th of March 1862, he considered his vessel to be about twelve
miles off the land, when a steamer was made out approaching. When the
steamer, which proved to be a Federal vessel of war, the _James Adger_,
came within hail, the _Emily Saint Pierre_ was ordered to heave to, and
was soon afterwards boarded by two boats, whose officers and crews took
possession of her. Filling on the main-yard, they steered for the
Federal squadron. Captain Wilson was now ordered into the boat, and
carried on board the flagship, when he was informed by flag-officer
Goldboursh that his vessel had saltpetre on board, and that consequently
she was a lawful prize to the Federal Government, but that he might take
a passage on board her to Philadelphia. He replied that his cargo was
not saltpetre, that his ship was British property, and that he could not
acknowledge her a lawful prize.
On returning to his ship in about an hour, he found that all his crew
had been taken away except the cook and steward, and that a fresh ship's
company had been placed on board, consisting of Lieutenant Stone, a
master's mate, twelve men, and an engineer, a passenger, fifteen in all.
Having weighed anchor, they proceeded to sea. Captain Wilson felt
confident of the illegality of the capture, and that if he could regain
possession of his ship, he was justified in making the attempt. He had
studied the characters of his cook and steward, and knew that he could
trust them. He waited his opportunity. There was, however, not much
time to spare. The 21st of March arrived. The commanding officer,
Lieutenant Stone, had the watch on deck. It was about half-past four,
and still dark, when Captain Wilson called his steward and cook into his
state-room, and told them that he was resolved to regain his ship or
lose his life. He asked their assistance, which they at once promised
to afford. He then gave them each a pair of irons, which he had
secured, and a sheet, and told them to follow him, as the moment for
action had arrived. The master's mate was asleep in his berth. Captain
Wilson opened the door, and walked in. After handing out his revolver
and sword, he grasped the mate's hands. In an instant the gag was in
his mouth, and the irons were fixed. The brave captain, with his two
followers, then went to the passenger's cabin, and having taken the arms
from his berth, secured him in the way they had the mate. The most
difficult part of the undertaking was now to overcome the commanding
officer, who, unsuspicious of danger, was walking the deck of his prize.
However, retaining wonderful coolness, and undaunted by the hazard he
ran, Captain Wilson went on deck, as if he had just turned out, and
joined Lieutenant Stone in his walk, making some remarks as to the state
of the weather. After walking for about ten minutes, he induced him to
go down into the cabin to look at the chart which he had himself been
examining, taking up on his way, as he followed, a belaying-pin. Now
was the critical moment--the cook and steward stood in ambush behind the
door. They reached the door of the after-cabin, where the chart was
spread out, when, lifting up the belaying-pin, Captain Wilson told the
lieutenant that if he moved he was a dead man, and that the ship should
never go to Philadelphia; when the cook and steward, springing on him,
had in a moment the irons on his wrists and the gag in his mouth, and he
was pitched without ceremony into a cabin, and the door locked upon him.
The crew had next to be mastered. Three were walking the deck, another
was at the helm, and a fifth was on the look-out forward.
With truly wonderful nerve and command of voice, Captain Wilson called
the three men aft, and pointing to the hatchway of the store-room, near
the helm, told them that a coil of rope was wanted up. He then shoved
off the hatch, and as he showed them the corner where it was, they all
three jumped down. Quick as lightning he replaced the hatch, which his
followers secured, while he warned the man at the helm that his life
would pay the penalty if he moved or uttered a word. The look-out was
then called aft, and being seized, was asked if he would assist in
navigating the ship to a British port. On his declining to do so, he
was handcuffed and secured in a cabin. Captain Wilson then called the
watch, knowing well that they would not all come on deck together. He
was consequently able to secure two before the suspicions of the rest
were aroused. The third, however, drew his knife as the steward was
about to seize him, when the latter shot him in the shoulder with his
pistol, and he was seized. The remaining men, jumping on deck, were
knocked over and secured.
Once more Captain Wilson had entire command of his ship, but with a crew
of two men, neither of whom could even steer, nor were they accustomed
to go aloft; while he had fifteen prisoners below, who would naturally
lose no opportunity of retaking the ship. His greatest difficulties
were only now beginning. What consciousness of his superlative
seaman-like qualities, what perfect and just self-reliance he must have
possessed, to have undertaken the task of navigating a ship completely
across the Atlantic with such means at his disposal! Considerate and
generous, as well as brave, as soon as he had shaped a course for
England, he went below, and announced to Lieutenant Stone that the ship
was his own again; but offered to take the gag out of his mouth and the
irons off his wrists if he would consent to remain a prisoner in his
berth, and make no attempt to regain possession of the ship.
To this Lieutenant Stone consented, and dined at table every day under
guard, while the crew were supplied with an ample allowance of bread,
beef, and water. Four of their number, after some consideration,
volunteered, rather than remain prisoners, to lend a hand in working the
ship; but as they were landsmen, they were of no use aloft. It seems
surprising that Captain Wilson should have trusted them; but undoubtedly
his bravery must have inspired them with such awe that they dared not
prove treacherous.
But few days had passed after he had commenced his homeward passage,
with his crew of six landsmen, than it came on to blow so hard that he
had to close reef the topsails. Placing his cook and steward at the
helm, he made the other men take reef tackles to the capstern, while he
went alone aloft, lay out on the yard, passed the earings, and tied the
reef-points, keeping an eye all the time at the helm, and directing his
two faithful men by signs how to steer. The wind increased till it blew
a heavy gale, and the sea getting up, the tiller by a sudden jerk was
carried away. He now began for the first time, perhaps, to have fears
that he might not after all make his passage; but undaunted, he set to
work to repair the mischief as well as he was able. His strength and
energies, as well as those of his brave companions, were tried to the
utmost. They had both to navigate the ship, to watch the four men who
had been liberated, and to feed and attend to their prisoners.
Providence favoured them; the weather moderated, the wind was fair, and
without accident Captain Wilson brought the _Emily Saint Pierre_ into
the Mersey thirty days after he had retaken her, having accomplished a
passage of nearly 3000 miles. As an act of individual courage,
forethought, coolness, nerve, and the highest seaman-like qualities, the
recapture of the _Emily Saint Pierre_ stands unsurpassed by any
performed by a sailor of any period, rank, or country.
Captain Wilson received the welcome he so richly deserved on his arrival
at Liverpool, from the mercantile as well as all other classes. The
Council of the Mercantile Marine Service presented him with a gold
medal, and silver medals with suitable inscriptions to the steward and
cook; they also each of them received a purse with twenty guineas, and
170 merchants of Liverpool bestowed on Captain Wilson the sum of 2000
guineas; while numerous other presents were made by various companies,
eager to show him in what high estimation his gallantry was held. His
officers and crew who had been made prisoners by the Federals, on their
arrival at Liverpool after their release, presented to him a valuable
sextant, to show their sense of his kindness to them during the voyage
from India, and of his noble conduct.