THE SECOND FRENCH WAR.
With the outbreak of the second French War, the Falmouth service entered
on a new and better period. It is in fact to the years now opening that
Falmouth men look back with pride and satisfaction, years in which one
gallant action followed another in quick succession, whilst the officers
and crews of every Packet seemed to vie with each other in courage and
devotion to their duties.
A large portion of the credit of the better temper which manifested
itself from this time forth must of course be attributed to the zeal
with which Lord Auckland and Mr. Freeling had plied the reformer’s
broom; but as no regulations or discipline from headquarters can avail
greatly against a supine or hostile executive, it is only fair to
acknowledge that the officers at Falmouth worked most heartily in the
same direction as their chiefs. Indeed, it would seem as if the reproach
cast upon the station by the conduct of the officers of the “Duke of
York” had bitten deeply into the heart of the whole establishment, and
roused them to shake off the old and evil practices which had led to
such disgrace. There was a dark stain on the honour of the Service, and
every man set himself to wipe it out. How nobly this was done the
following pages will amply show.
Among a number of less important reforms which had been carried out
during the last three years perhaps the most useful was the ingenious
system by which the absenteeism of the commanders was checked, while at
the same time a substantial benefit was conferred on the Service. A
system of mulcts was established, under which every commander wishing to
remain on shore when his turn came for proceeding to sea sacrificed a
certain proportion of the profits which he would have made upon the
voyage. But at the same time the sting was taken out of these money
fines, and they were even made popular, by a regulation throwing them
all into one fund, the interest of which was devoted to pensioning the
widows and orphans of captains and masters who were left in distressed
circumstances. Mulcts, which were really nothing more than enforced
subscriptions towards an object which must be congenial even to the
mulcted, were in fact not open to criticism. The amount of the penalty
was sufficiently large to induce some hesitation before incurring it,
but as no exemptions from it were granted, even for reasonable business,
the pension fund grew and prospered, and proved of the greatest benefit
to the Service.
Among the captains who by this salutary new rule were tempted back to
their own quarter-decks was Captain Yescombe, the remarkable story of
whose escape from a French prison in the year 1794 has been told in a
former chapter.
Since the events there described, Captain Yescombe, at his own urgent
request, had been allowed to perform his duties by substitute, on the
plea of having received a strong hint that it would go hardly with him
if he were a second time made prisoner.
What it was that he feared, or on what ground, is not easy to make out;
but it is clear that he had some apprehension of more than ordinary
danger in resuming his sea life, and that he managed to convince the
authorities of the reality of this danger. It is therefore not a little
strange to find that on his first voyage after the war broke out again
his forebodings were verified, and his ruin compassed by a French vessel
named “The Reprisal.”
It was on July 23rd, 1803, that the “King George” set sail from Lisbon
for Falmouth. The passage should have occupied about a week; but the
“King George” never arrived in port. Her fate was not long doubtful. On
August 12th the “Auckland” Packet, which had left Lisbon some days
later, sighted a Swedish galliot, which signalled to her to speak with
them. On bearing down accordingly, the officers of the “Auckland” found
that the galliot was manned by their friends and colleagues of the “King
George,” the refugees of a lost sea fight, in which, though most of them
had received severe wounds, all had escaped alive, save only Captain
Yescombe, who had died of his hurts on the previous day.
The fight, it appeared, had occurred on the 30th July. The Packet made a
stout resistance, and at first with some hope of success,
notwithstanding the obvious superiority of the enemy, a Privateer
carrying fourteen 4–pounders and a hundred men, whilst the “King George”
had only twenty-six men and six guns. The Falmouth men served their guns
well, but they suffered so heavily in their spars and rigging that at
last, after a heavy cannonade lasting nearly an hour, the enemy obtained
an opportunity of boarding.
From that moment the last chance of saving the Packet disappeared. The
French poured fifty men, chiefly blacks, upon her decks. There was a
desperate scuffle, but a few minutes decided the affair. Captain
Yescombe fell, shot through the thigh. Mr. St. Aubyn, the mate, and
three seamen were wounded, the rest were quickly overpowered, and the
ship was won.
The French carried their prize into Vigo, and it was in that port that
the Cornishmen hired the galliot, in which they were returning home when
the “Auckland” met them. Captain Yescombe, by the accounts of those who
were present at his last fight, conducted it with skill and courage. He
was highly respected by his colleagues, and it cannot be said that he
left them any but an animating example.
It may be observed at this point that the maxim enunciated so often in
1793, when the new model was introduced, namely, that “the idea of
defence was to be wholly abandoned,” appears much more rarely in
official reports of the early years of this century. It was still
cherished by the Department, but chiefly for public consumption. It
reappeared down to the very eve of the peace whenever the merchants
complained, but to their own officers, my Lords the Postmaster General
used very different language. They could not indeed supply their
captains with heavier armaments, but they could and did stimulate them
on every occasion to make a spirited use of what they had, and to such
encouragement the Falmouth men responded nobly.
At this period a figure appears on the stage at Falmouth which deserves
more than a passing mention. Captain John Bull was exceedingly well
known in his day, both as a good seaman and a gallant officer, and his
ship, the “Duke of Marlborough,” shared in his well-earned reputation.
In the “Duke of Marlborough” Captain John Bull fought more actions than
any other Packet officer, and, though he by no means won them all, yet
when he was most unfortunate, he emerged with credit, and an added title
to the confidence of the public. There was, moreover, a bluff heartiness
about him, a breezy contempt of danger, a dogged persistence in carrying
through whatever he had undertaken, which excites our admiration even
after the lapse of so many years, and goes far to explain how it
happened that in his life-time he was regarded as the embodiment of the
best qualities of the Falmouth Service, and by an affectionate deference
on the part of his colleagues was awarded by them the nickname, or
title, of “the Commodore.”
The “Commodore’s” first voyage as commander—in succession to his
father—served to prove the qualities which brought him fame. The “Duke
of Marlborough” was not yet built, and Captain Bull was in command of
the “Grantham,” a fine, full-rigged ship, which, from some unexplained
accident, suddenly foundered while lying at Barbados. Captain Bull was
on shore at the time, and the officer left in charge had only time to
save the mails before the ship went down, carrying with her almost the
whole of Captain Bull’s possessions.
The blow was a heavy one, for the “Grantham” belonged to Captain Bull.
If he had remained on the spot, he might have recovered some portion of
his property by salvage, but there was no time for delay. His duty was
to convey the mails to Jamaica, and he lost no time in chartering a
schooner, in which he reached Jamaica even earlier than he had been
expected. The plucky way in which so young a captain faced his
misfortunes won for him a considerable amount of esteem among the
merchants in the island; and feeling confident that their property was
safe in his hands, they appealed to the Governor and to the Deputy
Postmaster of the colony to entrust to him the mails which the
“Grantham” should have carried home to England, and to authorize him to
charter a vessel for the passage. The Postmaster hesitated. He would
have preferred to hold the mails over until the Packet of the following
month arrived, but in the end he yielded to the wishes of the merchants.
A Privateer, the “Caroline,” was hired, and Captain Bull set sail for
England.
It was curious how persistently ill-fortune pursued him. On the very day
on which the “Caroline” left Kingston harbour she sprang a leak, and
after vainly endeavouring to keep the water under, Captain Bull was
obliged to bear up for port. To add to the dangers of his position, a
strong breeze rose, which quickly increased to a full gale. The ship was
labouring heavily, and making water most uncomfortably fast. It was
clear that she could never reach port, and Captain Bull resolved that
their only chance lay in running her ashore.
In such a storm the expedient was desperate enough, but a spot was
selected in which it seemed possible that the ship might hold together,
and by skilful management the lives of all on board were saved. The
mails, too, were got ashore uninjured, and for the second time within
ten days Captain Bull presented himself at Kingston in the capacity of a
shipwrecked mariner, possessing nothing of his own except the clothes in
which he stood, but bringing with him all the public property entrusted
to his care.
Confirmed in their confidence by this second proof that it was well
bestowed, the merchants would have their mails entrusted to no one else,
and within three days Captain Bull was once more afloat, this time on
board the “Thomas,” an armed ship bound for Liverpool. The “Thomas” was
a good and seaworthy craft, and the voyage passed over without incident
until in mid-Atlantic she encountered a French corvette of twenty-four
guns, which bore down and opened fire on the “Thomas.” A sharp action
followed, which might have ended unfortunately had not a lucky shot cut
away the mizzen-mast of the corvette, and in the confusion of this
disaster the “Thomas” made good her escape.
Captain Bull had lost his ship, but he had gained his reputation. From
this time forth he was always named as one of the most active commanders
on the station. The “Duke of Marlborough” replaced the “Grantham,” and
in this famous Packet many notable people elected to make the voyage
home to Falmouth, relying on the skill of her well known captain. So
general indeed was the impression that the passage could be made with
perfect safety on board the “Duke of Marlborough” that Sir Thomas
Maitland, when his command in the Windward Islands expired, refused to
go home in a frigate, declaring that he preferred to sail with Captain
Bull.
In April, 1804, the “Duke of Marlborough” was outward bound to the
Leeward Islands; and, when about twenty-five leagues to the eastward of
Barbados, she was chased by an armed schooner. Captain Bull altered the
course of his ship, and made all sail to avoid an action, if possible;
but at the end of an hour it was evident that the stranger ship was
gaining ground. Her behaviour left little doubt that she was a Privateer
out of one of the French islands; but, in order to settle the matter,
Captain Bull made the private signal; and finding it remained unanswered
he called his men to quarters.
All preparations for the coming fight were completed long before the
enemy came within range. The boarding nettings were triced up, and
stuffed with hammocks and spare sails; the boat was cut away, so as not
to impede the action of the stern guns; the mail was brought on deck,
weighted with pigs of iron, and placed near one of the portholes, in
charge of a sailor who was instructed to sink it instantly should the
enemy appear likely to take the vessel; the small arms were served out;
the men had their dinner, and were all at their posts when at about 3
P.M. the enemy came within range, and opened fire.
A broadside from the “Duke of Marlborough” was the answer to this
salute; and before the smoke of these discharges cleared away the
Privateer was within pistol shot distance of the Packet, both running
before the wind; and a very hot cannonade ensued.
[Illustration:
To face p. 128.
H.M. PACKET, MARLBOROUGH.]
A few minutes’ observation sufficed to show Captain Bull that he was in
the hands of an enemy of much superior force. There were five guns on
the schooner’s broadside, while the “Duke of Marlborough” had but three;
and whenever he could get a view of his opponent’s deck, he saw it
crowded with men, beside whom his little handful of thirty-two men and
boys looked insignificant. But this was not the worst of it; for ere
long musket balls began to rattle about the decks of the Packet. A
passenger fell, shot through the head; a few minutes later a seaman was
killed; and it was soon seen that no less than fifty riflemen were
posted in the tops of the schooner, whence they were picking off any one
who showed himself from under cover of the bulwarks.
Captain Bull could spare no man from the deck of his ship; and was thus
unable to retaliate. He was now, however, within about twelve leagues of
Barbados; and there was a good chance of running under shelter of the
island, if he were not first dismasted. At the end of an hour, however,
during which he maintained a stout resistance, it was clear that he
could not much longer manœuvre his ship, which had suffered greatly in
her spars and rigging. Two more of his men were down. He himself was
almost wholly incapacitated by a rifle bullet which had pierced both
cheeks; and at this juncture, the Privateer ran suddenly alongside, the
“Duke of Marlborough” refused to obey her helm, the French made fast
their grapplings, and were pouring down in overwhelming numbers upon the
Packet’s deck, when Captain Bull, perceiving that further resistance was
hopeless, ordered the mail to be sunk, tore up his private signals, and
struck his colours.
The French captain knew how to appreciate a gallant enemy; and Captain
Bull always acknowledged the kindness shown to him, and to the wounded.
The “Duke of Marlborough” was navigated into Guadeloupe, where the
unwounded sailors were thrown into what Captain Bull described as “the
most horrible dungeon that can be conceived, where they had scarcely
sufficient air to breathe.” Fortunately they were not kept long in this
confinement, but were liberated after a short captivity, and permitted
to return to England.
It may be useful to remark at this point that these French Privateers,
of which such numbers were sent out from Guadeloupe and Martinique, were
not only formidable by reason of the numbers of their crews and the
weight of metal which they carried, but even more on account of the
desperate courage with which they attacked. Many a sloop of the British
Navy, armed and manned with a force far superior to that of the
Post-Office Packets found it no child’s play to encounter one of these
ocean free-lances, and some had reason to regret having challenged them.
The “General Erneuf” was widely known and dreaded in the Caribbean
Archipelago, as was also her sister ship, “La Dame Erneuf.” The career
of the latter vessel was stopped in 1805 by H.M. brig “Curieux,” after a
very sharp action, in which, as Captain Bettesworth testifies in his
report, the French had “30 killed and 41 wounded.” And “in justice to
his gallantry,” the captain adds, “I must say he never struck whilst
there was a man on his decks.”
Such being the spirit in which the French Privateers were fought, it is
not wonderful that they committed great ravages among our commerce. The
“Duke of Marlborough” was converted into a Privateer, and on her first
voyage captured H.M. sloop “Lily.” The sloop in her turn was
rechristened “General Erneuf,” the original vessel of the name having
been lost in some unexplained manner. The name had lost its luck,
however, for she was quickly brought to account by H.M. sloop “Reynard,”
Captain Jeremiah Coghlen, who in thirty-five minutes reduced her to such
a condition of helplessness that her captain blew her up in preference
to surrendering.
With facts such as these before us, it is impossible to make light of
the actions fought by the Falmouth Packets against these formidable
adversaries. The merit of a fight does not depend on the numbers of the
men engaged, but on the quality of the defence offered by the weaker
party. The character of a forlorn hope attaches to every one of the
battles into which these little vessels carried so high a spirit; and it
must always be a matter of regret that the records of so many of them
have been allowed to perish.
There lies before the writer a list of actions fought in the years 1804
and 1805, every one of which might well be thought to deserve some
record, had not the details of them been forgotten. It was justly
accounted no disgrace to Captain Bull to surrender to the “General
Erneuf”; yet Captain Patterson, in the “Eliza,” fought and beat this
very Privateer a few months later. The action lasted two hours and a
half; and one would give much to know what passed during that time, for
it is certain that the Privateer did not drop the prey in which she had
fixed her teeth without hard and heavy fighting.
In May, 1805, Captain Mudge, in the “Queen Charlotte,” defended himself
for two hours against a Privateer of 16 guns and 110 men. Captain Mudge
had seen much service in the navy, and had been present at the
engagement with Admiral Langara off Cape St. Vincent in 1781. He was a
brave and experienced officer, of whom it might be said with confidence
that he fought to the very utmost before he surrendered.
It is unfortunate that these and many another gallant fight can never
now be described; but we are happily in possession of fuller details of
a very important public service rendered about this time by a Falmouth
officer, on almost the only occasion when the forces of a Packet were
employed, and properly employed, in an action which might have been
avoided, but was deliberately sought.
The island of Dominica, in some respects the most beautiful of all the
West Indian group, was an object of continual envy on the part of the
French. Lying as it did almost within sight of their own island of
Guadeloupe, it seemed not impossible that by a sudden attack it might be
captured; and it is strange that the danger of such a surprise was not
more carefully guarded against by the English Government.
Whatever may be the explanation of this negligence, it happened that in
May, 1806, though a number of sugar ships fully laden were lying in
Rozeau Bay, the capture of which would inflict a most serious loss upon
the planters, there was actually no ship of war in the bay or in the
neighbourhood for their protection. It is true that H.M. sloop
“Dominica” had been sent to cruise off Guadeloupe; but even with the
greatest zeal and enterprise, this vessel could scarcely have counted on
intercepting more than a small proportion of the Privateers which lurked
in every bay and creek of that notorious island, while, as it happened,
any schemes which her officers had formed in this direction were
promptly frustrated by a mutiny of the crew, who seized the vessel, took
her into Guadeloupe, and reported to the French the defenceless state of
Dominica.
Of course such an opportunity was not likely to be lost; and it was
fortunate for the Dominica planters that no French frigate or ship of
the line was lying at Guadeloupe that day. Had the French been able to
place such a vessel at the head of their flotilla, it can scarcely be
doubted that the island must have fallen, for its shore defences were
not adapted for resisting a strenuous attack, and the troops in
garrison, consisting of detachments of the 46th and 3rd West India
Regiments, were by no means numerous.
As it was, the outlook was sufficiently serious. The French promptly
took the traitorous crew out of the “Dominica,” replaced them with
sailors of their own nationality, and added as many troops as the vessel
could carry. They re-named her “Napoleon,” gave her as consorts
“L’Imperial,” a national schooner, and a sloop, both packed with troops,
and added a couple of row-boats or galleys well stored with arms and
ammunition. General Hortade took command, and the flotilla appeared off
Dominica on the 24th May.
Its appearance aroused very great and natural alarm. A glance showed
that the expedition was a strong one; and, even if a landing could be
prevented, it was difficult to see how the sugar ships could be saved.
To slip their moorings, and stand out to sea in different directions,
would probably be to meet destruction singly; while in harbour they were
at least under protection of whatever guns could be placed in position
for their defence. There was no time to unload the cargoes, and but
little chance of saving them; and the merchants gathered on the quay in
consternation, watching the French ships grow nearer and nearer.
At this crisis, and while the enemy was still some miles off the land,
two English ships entered the bay. One of them was the Packet, “Duke of
Montrose,” commanded by Captain Bert Dyneley, a brave and skilful
officer. The other was H.M.S. “Attentive,” which had been told off to
convoy the Packet and the mails from Barbados through the archipelago of
islands, among which Privateers swarmed almost as thickly as the sea
birds.
The arrival of an English ship of war seemed to the Dominica merchants a
providential deliverance, and under the orders of General Dalrymple,
President of the island, the “Attentive” lost no time in standing out to
sea again to intercept the enemy.
Her movements were watched from shore with keen anxiety, but the
“Attentive” proved herself a wretched sailer. It was not the practice of
the Admiralty to tell off for convoy duty any vessel which would make a
good cruiser; and if the emergency had been less serious. Captain
Dyneley, who must have found it difficult and irksome to keep back his
own fine sailing brig to the slower pace of the escort, might have been
amused to see that the “Attentive” stood no chance whatever of
intercepting the French ships, every one of which was sailing easily
away from her.
There was now no time to be lost. It was plain enough that the enemy
would work havoc among the sugar ships, and might even land their troops
before the “Attentive” could get into action. Only one chance of
checking them remained; and General Dalrymple, backed by all the
merchants of the island, appealed to Captain Dyneley to take a
detachment of troops on board his Packet, and risk her in defence of the
island. This was a proposal which raised several serious considerations.
The Packets of course were no part of the fighting forces of the
country. They were not even national property, but belonged nominally to
the commander.
The undertaking of the Department to pay for damage sustained in action
might or might not apply to the present case. As far as Captain Dyneley
knew there was no precedent for it. His standing orders were to avoid
action whenever he could; but he was now called on to seek an
engagement, to throw his Packet in the way of a greatly superior force,
and that, moreover, on a service quite distinct from the business of the
Post-Office. Here was no question of protecting the mails, but rather of
putting them in danger.
It is true that the service he was asked to render seemed the only means
of averting a national disaster, and might be thought likely to
establish a strong claim on the gratitude of the Government. But Captain
Dyneley was well aware that when the actions of officers on critical
occasions came to be considered in the serene atmosphere of Whitehall,
they were often measured by standards very different from those applied
to them on the spot; and while he probably felt little doubt that the
Postmaster General would make a generous appeal to the Treasury not to
let him remain a loser for acting patriotically, he could be by no means
certain that the trustees of the national purse would not argue that he
ought to have stood out to sea, leaving the sugar ships to fight it out
with the French, and that he acted most irregularly in thrusting his
Packet into danger.
Captain Dyneley stated these facts to the President and merchants, and
pointed out that while he was quite willing to risk his life and the
lives of his crew upon a very hazardous service, it was scarcely
reasonable to ask him to stake his ship also, which was worth £5000. He
therefore proposed that the merchants should jointly guarantee to pay
this amount, in case the “Duke of Montrose” were lost, and the
Government declined to pay for her. But the merchants declined
absolutely to entertain the proposal.
Captain Dyneley then proposed to divide the responsibility, taking on
himself the risk of the masts, yards, rigging, and all the equipments of
the Packet, if the President and the merchants would guarantee the value
of the hull. This offer also was declined, and it was made clear to
Captain Dyneley that if he attempted to save the merchants’ property, he
must stake all his own on the event. The merchants would guarantee
nothing. Not even the sight of the French ships drawing momentarily
nearer induced them to unlock their purse-strings; and if Captain
Dyneley had insisted on his perfectly reasonable request, Dominica would
have fallen, and might have remained a French possession to this day.
Happily for this country, its honour at that crisis did not depend upon
a merchant. It was in the hands of a man whose mind was not dominated by
the fear of money loss, and who, much as he might regret the risk of
losing the capital on which his wife and children must depend if he fell
in the coming action, dreaded far more the disgrace of seeing the Union
Jack hauled down, and the tricoloured ensign floating over Rozeau Bay.
At this moment the Falmouth captain stood for England.
There was no time for reflection, and very little for preparation.
Captain Dyneley cheerfully resolved to take upon himself the whole risk
and responsibility of employing his Packet upon a service which, however
it might result, could not be called a Post-Office service. He sent on
shore all the mails which he had in charge, giving careful instructions
that they were to be destroyed if in any danger of capture by the enemy.
He called his crew together, explained to them what he was about to do,
pointed out that they were by no means bound to follow him, and offered
leave to go ashore to any man who cared to do so.
Of course not one of the Falmouth men flinched, and by the time Captain
Dyneley had satisfied himself on this point, several boats full of
troops had come alongside. Twenty-six men of the 46th Regiment, and
thirteen of the 3rd West India Regiment, were taken on board the “Duke
of Montrose,” making up with her own crew a complement of rather less
than seventy men; and thus provided, the Packet slipped her cable, and
stood out of the bay to meet the advancing enemy.
It may be conceived with what anxiety the movements of the “Duke of
Montrose” were watched from shore. The flotilla of French ships was full
in sight, perilously near the harbour. The “Attentive” was lying at some
distance, evidently unable in the light wind which prevailed to manœuvre
with any effect. Captain Dyneley’s Packet, a vessel of not more than one
hundred and ninety tons, was no larger than the smallest of the three
sloops in the track of which she was thrown, and to the spectators on
the quay it seemed that the three, acting in concert, must quickly send
the “Duke of Montrose” to the bottom.
The first encouraging fact noticed by the merchants was that the Packet
sailed incomparably better than any one of her enemies, and could choose
her position as she pleased. She was, moreover, very skilfully handled,
availing herself of every puff of the wind, which was now growing so
light as to give some uneasiness. Whether by accident or design, the
French vessels had become scattered, and Captain Dyneley seized the
opportunity of dealing with them separately. By far the most formidable
of them was “L’Imperial,” and he therefore singled her out, and bore
down on her as fast as the weather permitted.
Unfortunately, the wind now failed altogether, and the spectators on the
quay saw with dismay that the “Duke of Montrose” was ceasing to cut the
water, and lay with canvas hanging loose out of gunshot of “L’Imperial.”
As quickly as this was perceived, however, hasty movements were seen on
board, the boats dropped over the side, a dozen men leapt into them, and
with a cheer which came faintly over the water to the ears of the
merchants, and put some heart into them, the Falmouth men towed their
ship towards the enemy.
A short range was what Captain Dyneley wanted, his eight guns consisting
chiefly of 12–pounder carronades, and he placed the “Duke of Montrose”
within pistol shot of “L’Imperial.” A very hot action then began. From
the shore nothing could be distinguished but a cloud of smoke in which
the two vessels were obscured. The “Attentive” was unable to attain a
position which would enable her to give the Packet any assistance; and
irksome as it must have been to her officers to see their convoy doing
the work, she seems to have contributed nothing to the result, unless,
indeed, it was her presence on the scene which restrained the other
French vessels from interfering in the fight.
If so, she rendered invaluable service, for Captain Dyneley had his
hands full, and a very little would have inclined the scale against him.
During three-quarters of an hour the fighting was desperate; but at last
the English gained the upper hand; the smoke began to clear away, and
the people watching on shore saw the tricoloured ensign drop from the
mast and the Union Jack hoisted in its place.
This was an excellent beginning, but the work was only half done; and
Captain Dyneley, having taken possession of his prize, lost no time in
giving chase to the “Napoleon,” which vessel appears to have been
occupied chiefly in demonstrating how much faster than the “Attentive”
she could sail, and in declining the action which the latter offered. In
this prudent course she found no difficulty; but when the “Duke of
Montrose,” an incomparably swifter vessel bore down and offered fight,
her crew flushed with the victory which had robbed the expedition of its
most powerful component, the commander of the “Napoleon” judged that the
time for Fabian tactics had gone past, and sought refuge in flight.
Unfortunately for himself he had delayed a little too long. Not only was
the “Duke of Montrose” in a position whence she could have overhauled
the “Napoleon” in a comparatively short space of time, but there were
already in view, rounding a point of the coast, the white sails of an
English cruiser, which, attracted by the firing, was running down to see
if she could be of use. Captain Dyneley continued the chase long enough
to assure himself that the newcomer, which proved to be H.M.S. “Wasp,”
Captain Bluett, could not miss the “Napoleon,” and then returned to
Rozeau Bay where he found the circumstances completely changed.
The “Attentive” had succeeded in capturing the row-boats, and as the
“Duke of Montrose” reappeared on the scene of action had just scuttled
them. There remained only one vessel of the whole flotilla, and about
this one it was unnecessary for either the “Attentive,” the “Duke of
Montrose,” or the “Wasp” to concern themselves. For the apprehension of
a conflict on shore was no sooner removed by the capture of
“L’Imperial,” than the soldiers who were in charge of the land defences
became impatient of their inaction; and Lieutenant Hamilton, having
obtained leave, manned a couple of boats with soldiers of his own, the
48th, regiment, pulled out to the French ship, and captured her after a
brief encounter.
Thus of the whole expedition not one ship or man escaped; and an hour’s
energetic action had turned the well-founded apprehensions felt for the
safety of Dominica into security. Captain Dyneley was undoubtedly the
saviour of the island. Had he not checked the course of “L’Imperial,”
that vessel, which doubtless carried General Hortade, would have
executed her plans without impediment. The “Attentive” could not
overhaul her; the “Wasp” was too far away to be of use in preventing a
landing. Had the French troops been disembarked there must have been
desperate and bloody fighting, the result of which could not be
forecast. The loss of property would have been immense, the discredit to
England and the loss of prestige in the West Indies would have been
greater still.
Whether the merchants expressed their acknowledgments to Captain Dyneley
in any form is not recorded in the official papers from which these
facts are drawn; but General Dalrymple in his despatch to the Admiralty
stated the case not unfairly, though it cannot be said that he wrote
with any undue appreciation of the services of the Post-Office
commander. He admitted that the capture of the two most formidable ships
in the hostile flotilla was due, the one directly, and the other
indirectly, to Captain Dyneley’s enterprise and pluck; and added, “his
zeal and disinterestedness are highly commendable, as from his
instructions he had a good deal to lose.”
On Captain Dyneley’s return to England his own chiefs were well able to
interpret this carefully guarded language, and from them at least he
obtained the admiration which was his due. The Postmaster General
prevailed on the Admiralty to convey to him a special expression of
thanks and approval, and marked their own sense of his conduct by an
honorarium of a hundred and fifty guineas. The Patriotic Society voted
him a handsome piece of plate, and congratulations reached him from
every quarter.
It is satisfactory to read that recognition of his gallant conduct
reached him promptly, because the time within which it could serve to
gratify him was already short.
The “Duke of Montrose” lay at Falmouth until the middle of November,
when she sailed again for the West Indies. A month later she was within
fifty leagues of Barbados, that fatal region in which so many Packets
had to fight for their existence, when in the early dawn a strange sail
was descried from the masthead. An hour made it plain that the newcomer
had altered her course and was chasing the Packet: in the course of the
morning she drew so near that no doubt was left of her being a French
Privateer.
Captain Dyneley put his ship to her best point of sailing, and did all
in his power to avoid an action as his instructions enjoined. Well as
the “Duke of Montrose” sailed, however, the enemy sailed better, and
throughout the day she gradually gained steadily. During the night she
was not shaken off, and about 9 A.M. on the following day, December
12th, she came within range, opened fire, and almost at the same moment
ran down and grappled the “Duke of Montrose,” hoping to capture her by a
sudden assault.
In an attack of this kind the superior numbers of the Privateer’s crew
(she carried eighty-five men against twenty-eight on the Falmouth
vessel) gave her an immense advantage, and this advantage was turned
into an overwhelming preponderance by the fact that she possessed a long
12–pounder (called in one report a 24–pounder) fixed upon a traverse,
and so capable of being directed on any spot with ease.
Captain Dyneley maintained a most obstinate resistance, though on this
occasion the safety of his capital was not in question, since the
Post-Office was pledged to pay for Packets captured while employed on
their own service. Time after time the French were driven back to their
own ship, unable to gain the slightest advantage. For no less than three
hours the two ships remained locked together fighting incessantly, and
it is impossible to say how the action would have ended had not Captain
Dyneley unhappily fallen in one of the boarding attacks. His mate and
three seamen were already slain. Two others were dangerously wounded,
and the crew, dispirited by the loss of their commander, and exhausted
by their long and desperate resistance, hauled the colours down and
surrendered.
So ended, bravely and honourably, the career of Captain Bert Dyneley.
The naval history of this country tells of many exploits performed upon
a grander scale than his and followed by consequences of more
importance. But if the quality of the achievements be considered rather
than the numbers of the contending forces, Captain Dyneley, who
cheerfully risked his property as well as his life in a national service
entirely out of his line of duty, and who a few months later laid down
that life in defending his trust with an obstinacy which his chiefs did
not expect and had not equipped him for, deserves a better fate than to
be entirely forgotten.