TWO BRILLIANT YEARS.
The loss of Denmark’s friendship may possibly have been balanced in the
eyes of Mr. Canning by the possession of her fleet, but to the
Postmaster General and the other officials at Lombard Street, who were
responsible for the maintenance of Postal communications it was a very
grievous disaster. The device of sending letters under cover to Altona,
involving as it did much inconvenience and delay even if the letters
were as safe as Mr. Nicholas believed, had been resorted to with much
grumbling on the part of the merchants, who only discovered its value
when it had become impossible. Gothenburg was now the only port in
Northern Europe available for the Packets. The station was inconvenient;
the passage was long and stormy. The Swedish Post-Office in Hamburg had
been closed for some months, and it was consequently by no means clear
that there was any great advantage in sending the mails out of England
at all. A certain number were doubtless forwarded from Gothenburg by
various secret and irregular routes, but it was indeed a desperate
crisis which made it necessary to entrust valuable letters or
remittances, on which the credit of a substantial merchant might rest,
to smugglers and the other wild and lawless characters who would alone
venture to incur the risks inseparable from the undertaking.
The situation was intolerable. The merchants were clamorous for some
assistance, and it was only too evident that unless the trade of the
country were to perish, and with it our supremacy, an expedient must be
quickly found. At this juncture the capture of Heligoland provided a
base from which efforts might be made to reach Hamburg with some chance
of success.
No exposition is needed to show how great the value of Heligoland was to
this country. The island lies but a few hours’ sail from the mouths of
the Elbe, the Weser, and the Ems. British goods might be landed there
with perfect confidence, for little need be feared from any naval
attack, and could lie there unmolested until the fishermen of the
island, or of the Hanover and Holstein coasts, smuggled them into Bremen
or Hamburg. A very valuable trade of this description soon sprang up,
for the profits were great enough to gild the risks. The goods were, of
course, contraband in Hamburg, but the exacting requisitions of clothing
for Napoleon’s army made it necessary for the citizens to chance the
penalty, and to trade with the smugglers at any hazard for Yorkshire
cloth.
Heligoland was captured on September 4th, 1807, and whilst the
Government were still debating about the best means of making use of it,
news was arriving from the opposite corner of Europe which made the new
acquisition seem more and more valuable, for the French designs on
Portugal were becoming manifest. The Prince Regent’s friendship for us
was receiving shock after shock from Napoleon’s menaces, and it was
obvious that the time was at hand when the cordon which had blocked
against our shipping every harbour from the Baltic to Dalmatia, except
Gibraltar and the coasts of Portugal, would be drawn across the entrance
of the Tagus also.
Napoleon demanded three things of the Prince Regent. Two of these
demands, of which the whole number were levelled against England, the
Prince had courage to refuse, namely, the detention of all Englishmen
then in Portugal, and the confiscation of their property. The third
demand, which was also the most important of the three, he at last
conceded, with a kind of weak belief that he would thereby, while
sacrificing the neutrality of his country, promote a general peace; and
accordingly, on October 27th, Mr. Chamberlain, the Post-Office agent at
Lisbon, transmitted to his Department a copy of a proclamation issued on
the 22nd, which announced that the harbours of Portugal were henceforth
closed to British vessels, whether of war or commerce.
“Some private information I have just received,” wrote the agent, in
commenting on this proclamation, “leads me to apprehend that this
government may seize the English who remain here—and certainly they have
had strong and sufficient warning to withdraw—in order thereby to
appease the wrath of Bonaparte.” And he went on to lament that the
moment had been let slip for supporting the Prince Regent with a British
fleet. “Every preparation is made to oppose the entry of a fleet, and I
much fear that it will now be impossible for any but a very immense
force to attempt the Tagus. I have long dreaded this, for I have been
aware of the system that was being carried out, and it grieves me beyond
expression to see the moment rapidly approaching when the navy and all
the Brazilmen, which are just so many men-of-war, the finest vessels in
the world for carrying troops, fall into the hands of Bonaparte. There
is perhaps yet time to prevent this evil, but it is barely possible....”
On the following day he wrote again. “We are in hourly expectation of a
proclamation ordering his Majesty’s subjects to quit the kingdom. Our
stay must be short.” It was, indeed, a hazardous position. Junot at the
head of his army was pushing rapidly through Spain. The Portuguese
Cabinet saw no safety save in acts of hostility towards the English. The
crime of Helvoetsluis stood on record as a warning of what might be
expected when the French arrived, and the British residents on the Tagus
poured out of the country day by day. Mr. Chamberlain’s duty was to
maintain the Postal Service until the very last moment; no order for
arresting the English had yet appeared, but it was expected hourly, and
the agent, who could not hope to be exempted from its scope, took the
precaution of chartering a small armed schooner which was to lie off the
coast in readiness for sailing night or day.
The crisis came on November 11th. All Englishmen, save the Ambassador
and his staff, were to be arrested. Mr. Chamberlain concealed about his
person a number of despatches for the Foreign Secretary, and, escaping
from his lodging, made his way to the coast. To his dismay his schooner
was nowhere to be found. A violent storm had blown her out to sea. He
hired a boat, and made efforts to reach some of the British vessels in
the offing, but the sea ran so high that he was obliged to put back
three times, and at last the sailors declined to go out again. Mr.
Chamberlain therefore started off on foot, and after a perilous journey
reached Cascaes, where, by good luck, he found the “Walsingham,” a
Falmouth Packet, which, on attempting to enter the Tagus as usual on the
previous day, had been fired on from the batteries, and was now standing
on and off the coast in the hope of ascertaining the precise situation
of affairs. Mr. Chamberlain’s arrival settled any doubt as to the
hostility of the Portuguese, and the “Walsingham” at once set sail for
Falmouth.
The only hope of the Post-Office now lay in schemes of smuggling,
conducted from Heligoland. Suggestions were pouring in upon them. Plans
more or less impracticable emanated from every crazy enthusiast in
London, and the general public demonstrated no less clearly than in our
own times its conviction that it was qualified to instruct the experts.
There were anxious consultations at the Foreign Office between Mr.
Canning, Mr. Freeling, and Mr. Thornton, who was fortunately at hand to
give the benefit of his unrivalled local knowledge and of that sagacity
which had extorted the admiration of Bourrienne.
The immediate difficulty was to find a means of communicating to the
Senate of Hamburg, then, as always, friendly to the English, the fact
that mails were lying at Heligoland, and to concert with them some
scheme for introducing those mails into the city.
To do this was a matter of great difficulty, since all the approaches to
Hamburg were very closely watched. It was also dangerous, for if the
messenger were captured, he would certainly have to face a long
imprisonment; and worse than imprisonment might befall him, for he ran
an excellent chance of being shot as a spy. A man of courage must
therefore be chosen, and one of resource, of undoubted honesty, faithful
to his employers, and adroit in action. Such a man was not easily found;
but Mr. Thornton at last put forward his servant, James Giltinan, who
had been long with him in Hamburg, and was well acquainted with all the
surrounding territory.
Giltinan accepted the dangerous mission very readily. He sailed from
Harwich on a Packet bound for Heligoland, and within a few hours of his
arrival in that island he left it again on board a schuyt, bound for the
mouth of the Elbe. The Heligolanders were confident that he would never
succeed in penetrating to Hamburg, and the event proved them right. A
furious storm delayed all news for some days, but at last the schuyt
returned with the melancholy news that Giltinan had been made prisoner
between Neuwerk and Cuxhaven, and sent to Hamburg in close confinement.
What befell him there does not appear ever to have become known.
Upon the failure of this gallant venture various plans were considered,
but all were laid aside as offering no prospect of success commensurate
with the risk involved. The Post-Office declined to make itself
responsible for any further efforts, and resolved to confine itself to
landing the mails at Heligoland, where they must lie until good fortune
provided some means of forwarding them. To such a condition of impotence
the policy of Napoleon had reduced the Post-Office in the year 1807.
It is now time to return to the operations of the Falmouth Packets. A
new service to Gibraltar and Malta had been opened in the year 1806, in
deference to the wishes of the Mediterranean merchants, and still more
perhaps to the foresight of the Government which anticipated the closing
of the Northern ports. The “Cornwallis,” Captain Anthony, was the first
Packet despatched on this voyage, which the hostility of Spain rendered
rather dangerous. The passage through the Straits brought the
“Cornwallis” into close quarters with the Spanish coast, and six
gun-boats sallied out from Tarifa to intercept her.
These gun-boats carried 24 and 30–pounders, heavy guns for those days,
with from fifty to seventy men each, and their plan of attack was a
simultaneous onslaught. They were probably Privateers, for they fought
under the bloody flag in token of their resolution to give no quarter.
Captain Anthony had anticipated some such attack; and on meeting
Collingwood’s fleet on the previous day, had asked for convoy through
the straits. Collingwood, however, could not spare a convoy, being in
constant hope of meeting the French fleet and bringing it to action.
“Just at first,” says a passenger on board the “Cornwallis,” “when we
saw the enemy coming we wished we had had the convoy; but we soon forgot
that when our blood warmed, for all on board had to turn to and work his
best. Everybody on board did not seem to mind at all, down to the little
boy who serves us in the cabin, although we could see they more than
twice outnumbered all of we, for one Englishman is as good as two
frog-eaters, and I am sure as good as any two of those rags of
Spaniards. I saw that little David, the cabin lad who carried up the
powder from below, sang merry until he had no wind with running up and
down so much, and he only cried one bit at first, when a splinter from
the boat’s bottom cut his forehead. His face was very black from the
smoke, and he looked mighty comick when I wrapped his head up in my
large kerchief, which I did when I was recovered from my fright.
“It was at ten o’clock on Monday morning, July 28th, 1806, a very hot
day with little wind, that we engaged in coming through the Gutt, and we
fought them for getting on for two hours, till nearly noon, about
fifteen to twenty miles from Gibraltar.... The captain, seeing as how I
was quite well again from my sea-sickness, and that I look steady, gave
me the charge of all the powder, which gave me plenty to do. To every
man on board cutlasses was served out, for we must not trust to our
cannon alone, as they mostly try to board a ship, and take it by power
of numbers.
“If a light wind, they make use of their oars and sweep along very fast,
and board on all quarters at once if they can. Our ship with her stern
gun, a long 9–pounder, spoke such language as they could not understand.
She fired about sixty shots, and kept them at their proper distance, and
was our principal defender. I suppose we fired two hundred shots on the
whole, and did much damage to the gun-boats, one of which we sunk, and
many of her men, thank God, was drowned in the sea, though the other
boats being near picked up some. Once or twice when we struck them with
our grape their shrieks was very awful and loud.
“Captain Anthony behaved bravely, and much praise is due to him for his
spirited conduct. Mr. Mitchell, from Berwick on Tweed, fought with
uncommon vigour; he fired three of the guns. As soon as one was
discharged he ran to another; and directed the shot in a gallant style.
The first shot that the Spaniards fired blew away the bottom of the boat
which hung astern of the ship, and broke the cabin windows. A piece of
wood from the boat struck me in the back, and I was much alarmed lest I
was shot; but I received no hurt, only a great fright, at which Captain
Anthony found time to laugh heartily.
“They fired grape-shot at us, which did much damage to the sails, and
broke one of the irons which support the boarding net, and wounded some
of our men. Only one was killed in the engagement, a man named Reeves,
from Lichfield it is thought, who was a brave and good sailor. He was
shot through the thigh and breast, and must have been killed
instantaneous, for he did not look agonized. This is the first man I
have seen killed. At about twelve o’clock the five gun-boats retired,
having had more than they expected; the breeze was still light, and they
returned, but we think not all of them, to Tarifa.”[4]
Footnote 4:
This quotation is made, with the kind permission of the editor of the
_Cornhill Magazine_, from an article which appeared therein in May
1887, entitled “From a Diary of 1806.”
Now this somewhat rambling account, the narrative of a plain merchant,
not much skilled in the use of his pen, telling us exactly what struck
him, too manly to be ashamed of owning himself to have been both
sea-sick and frightened, yet showing us in his modest way that he was
usefully employed in helping those who did the actual fighting, this
straightforward, sensible story puts the whole scene before us more
clearly than a thousand official reports. Little David running upstairs
“singing merry,” not old enough to keep his tears back when the splinter
wounded him on the forehead, forms a picture too vivid to be forgotten.
Captain Anthony’s hearty laugh when his passenger thought himself shot,
helps us to realize the joviality with which our grandfathers went into
action, too confident in themselves to trouble their heads about the
issue, even when fighting against six enemies at once.
The Postmaster General did not think much of this action, ranking it
somewhat low among the achievements of the Packets chiefly because it
was a running fight. One might have supposed that the sinking of one of
the gun-boats, together with the skill in manœuvring exhibited by
Captain Anthony in repelling the other five, entitled him to a
considerable share of credit. He gained more however for his conduct
nearly a year later, namely on July 2nd, 1807.
On that date the “Cornwallis” was chased by a lugger about thirty
leagues off Brest. The lugger came on under English colours; but Captain
Anthony, finding that she made no answer to the private signal,
instantly cleared his decks, called his men to their stations, served
out cutlasses and pistols, and waited for the lugger with his guns ready
shotted.
It was well that he had sailed the seas long enough to be cautious; for
the lugger, having flown her English colours until she came within half
pistol shot distance, suddenly hauled them down, and ran up the Spanish
flag at the mizzen, and the French ensign, topped with a red flag, the
signal of no quarter, at the main. In the same moment, without hail or
summoning gun, a broadside roared out, followed by a rattling volley of
small arms, by which her commander doubtless thought to shake the nerve
of the Falmouth men, and by one sudden blow to win an opportunity of
boarding.
He was mistaken in his men, and he had forgotten the “Cornwallis’” stern
guns. Her broadside came crashing into him before the smoke of the first
discharges had blown away, and Captain Anthony was perfectly awake to
the manœuvre his enemy was contemplating. He saw the lugger making sail;
he understood full well that she was bearing down to grapple him on the
starboard quarter. His couple of 12–pounder carronades were
double-shotted, and as the lugger sheered up under the stern of the
“Cornwallis” she got such a storm of grape and canister along her decks
as took the heart out of her for boarding; while as she fell away in
some confusion the Packet’s starboard guns came to bear, and were
discharged at short range with terrible effect.
This was the decisive moment of the action, and the event was never
afterwards doubtful, though the fight was by no means over. The lugger
sheered off to a safer distance, and commenced a heavy cannonade which
did much injury to the “Cornwallis,” dismounting one of the stern guns
which had served her so well, wounding three men seriously, and almost
crippling her in sails and rigging. The enemy, however, either suffered
more, or did not realize how effective her fire had been; for she showed
no inclination to come to close quarters again, and after about an hour
hauled off, and stood away to the southward, leaving the Packetsmen to
enjoy their triumph.
Somewhat earlier than this, namely on May 28th, 1807, the “Duke of
Marlborough” was in the neighbourhood of Barbados, when the look-out at
her masthead reported a schooner in sight running before the wind a few
miles away to the southward. Captain Bull was not on board, and the
Packet was in charge of Mr. James, the master, an officer whose growing
reputation both as a navigator and in action already marked him as
destined for an independent command. Mr. James was well aware of the
great probability that any strange vessel encountered in that situation
was an enemy; and he made his preparations without loss of time. It was
half-past four in the afternoon when the schooner was sighted. By five
o’clock the decks were cleared, the boarding nettings triced up, the
arms served out, the mail brought on deck, the guns loaded, and the men
were at their quarters, cheerful and confident.
Hardly were these arrangements completed when the schooner tacked and
made all sail in chase. At 10.15 P.M. she came up astern and fired the
first shot, to which the Cornishmen replied with their full broadside.
On this the action became general, and the two vessels pounded each
other for three-quarters of an hour at close range without serious
damage on either side.
Mr. James, confident in the gunnery of his men, felt no apprehension
about the result of this cannonade. What he did fear was a boarding
assault, for the numbers of the enemy were far superior to his own. At
11 P.M. he perceived that the French were collecting their boarders. The
moment was favourable to them. The vessels were nearing each other. The
boarders were gathering in numbers sufficient to sweep the little crew
of Cornishmen into the sea; and Mr. James saw with alarm that the
situation of the vessels was such that for the moment he could not bring
a single gun to bear.
There was not an instant to lose. The Frenchmen were already clambering
upon the bulwarks of their ship balancing themselves in the act of
springing. In another moment the whole party would have been scrambling
over the nettings of the Packet, when Mr. James, seizing the helm,
jammed it hard-a-port, and laid the “Duke of Marlborough” right across
the enemy’s bows.
By this bold manœuvre the tables were turned. As the Packet forged
across the schooner’s track, every gun in her broadside came to bear
successively. Each one in turn raked the French ship from stem to stern
with grape-shot and canister, and when Mr. James had leisure once more
to look about him, he saw that there was confusion among the enemy, who
had evidently sustained a heavy loss. The Frenchmen rallied from this
blow surprisingly fast, and in a few minutes secured another opportunity
of boarding. The favourable moment had gone by however. The Cornishmen
were fully prepared, and not one of the boarders managed to gain the
deck of the “Duke of Marlborough.” This second failure seemed to take
the heart out of the attack, for shortly afterwards the Privateer
sheered off and was seen to heave to with the evident intention of
repairing damages.
She had not yet done with the Packet, and about midnight made sail once
more in chase, coming within range at 8 A.M., when a heavy fire of great
guns were opened on both sides, and maintained very warmly for two hours
and a half. At the end of this time, finding she had gained no decisive
advantage, and having had enough of close quarters on the previous
evening, the Privateer again sheered off and left the “Duke of
Marlborough” to pursue her voyage unmolested.
In these two actions six Packetsmen were wounded, one mortally. The
amount of loss sustained by the Privateer, which was a large vessel of
fourteen guns, well known as having captured many English merchantmen,
could not be ascertained, but it was the opinion of some of the officers
of the “Duke of Marlborough,” that if they had pressed their advantage
she could not have escaped. Allowing, however, for very heavy losses,
the number of Privateersmen capable of fighting at the close of the
action doubtless far exceeded the whole complement of the Packet, and
Mr. James, whose first duty was to expose the mails to no unnecessary
risk, certainly exercised a wise discretion in refusing to embark in
such an adventure.
This, it may be added, was by no means the only case in which the crew
of a Packet, flushed with success, were compelled to refrain from
pushing their victory to a conclusion, and so to abandon the prize money
which was almost in their grasp. It was hard to let a beaten enemy
escape, and it is a striking proof of the good feeling existing among
the sailors on the Falmouth Packets that they tolerated such an event
without a mutinous outbreak.
A few months later there occurred a fight, which, if not more bold and
desperate than half a dozen others recorded in this volume, attracted a
larger share of public recognition, and won for the officer in command
something like that fame which was so often deserved by the Falmouth
commanders, but so very seldom bestowed on them. The action of the
“Windsor Castle” on October 1st, 1807, is, indeed, one of the three or
four fights to which the world outside Falmouth paid some attention. It
has found a niche in the naval histories, and is still remembered when
almost every other action of the Packets, however glorious, is
forgotten.
The “Windsor Castle” was commanded by Captain Sutton, but that officer
had remained at home, and the ship was in charge of Mr. William Roger,
the master. She sailed from Falmouth at the end of August, 1807, with
mails for the Leeward Islands, and after a tedious voyage was nearing
Barbados, in those waters which were a veritable cockpit of the
Atlantic, when the look-out reported that a strange schooner, which came
in sight a few minutes earlier, had altered her course and appeared to
be chasing the Packet.
Mr. Rogers at once caused every stitch of canvas to be set; but at the
end of an hour there could be no doubt that the enemy had the heels of
the “Windsor Castle,” and that an action was inevitable. Perhaps Mr.
Rogers and his crew, having obeyed their orders by attempting to escape,
were not ill-pleased on finding that they could not do so. To the
former, especially, who held only a temporary command, the chance of
distinguishing himself was doubtless welcome, and he set about his
preparations with a cheerful confidence which had an excellent effect
upon his men.
About noon the strange schooner came within range, hoisted French
colours, and opened fire. The Cornishmen replied by playing on the enemy
with their stern chasers, those long brass guns which in so many other
fights had proved serviceable in delaying the advance of an enemy. On
this occasion, however, they appear to have done little execution, for
the schooner drew on rapidly, and, coming within hail, ordered Mr.
Rogers, in what he termed “very opprobrious language,” to strike his
colours. On finding that he treated this demand as it deserved, the
French opened a very heavy fire, both of cannon and musketry, which they
maintained without intermission for more than an hour.
The Privateer carried three guns in her broadside, as did the “Windsor
Castle” also, but they were 9–pounders, whereas the Packet’s broadside
guns were only 4–pounders, and her chasers 6–pounders. Moreover the
Privateer had a long 18–pounder fixed on a swivel in the centre of the
main-deck, and traversing on a circle, so that it could be brought to
bear on any point with ease. The fire of this powerful gun could not
fail to exercise a large effect on the action, and in fact great damage
was done by it to the spars and rigging of the Packet. At last the
French, believing the moment favourable, seized an opportunity of
boarding, and grappled the “Windsor Castle” on the starboard quarter. A
strong party leaped into the nettings of the Packet, slashing at them
with swords, and hacking at the ridge-ropes with long poles armed with
hooks of sharpened steel. But the nettings were lofty and well-secured,
the Falmouth men understood the use of pikes and cutlasses, and in a few
minutes several of the boarders were wounded and thrust into the sea,
while the remainder leaped back to their own ship. On the failure of
this attack, the French cut the grapplings, and would have sheered off,
probably to resume their cannonade, but the mainyard of the Packet had
locked itself in the rigging of the Privateer, and the wind having
almost completely died away, the two vessels could not possibly
separate. “Thereupon,” says the account, written by a passenger on the
“Windsor Castle,” “our pikemen again flew to their muskets, pistols and
blunderbusses, our gallant captain all the while giving his orders with
the most admirable coolness, and encouraging his crew by his speeches
and example in such a way that there was no thought of yielding,
although many of our heroes now lay stretched upon our deck in their
blood. But then we saw the enemy’s decks completely covered with their
dead and wounded, and the fire from our great guns doing dreadful
execution.”
For more than two hours the Packet and the Privateer lay locked
together, and during all that time the cannonade was furious, while the
losses on both sides were very heavy. The French gunnery seems to have
been defective, and though men were falling fast on the “Windsor
Castle,”—out of eight-and-twenty men and boys three were killed and ten
wounded—they were dropping infinitely faster on the Privateer. “At every
discharge,” says the account already quoted, “we began to hear them
scream, which so inspired our gallant crew that many of the wounded
returned to their quarters,”—a vivid touch of description, which helps
one to realize the desperate character of this long day’s fighting off
the shore of Barbados.
At three o’clock this stage of the action terminated. The French,
seeming to feel the necessity for some great effort, formed a second
boarding party, mustering every available man for the attack. Happily
Mr. Rogers detected their design, and bringing to bear on them one of
his 6–pounders, “crammed with double grape, canister, and one hundred
musket balls,” let fly this murderous charge into their midst at the
very moment when they were grouped together for the assault. A great
number fell, the rest made a dash under cover. They were becoming
demoralized, and Mr. Rogers saw that the moment for which he was waiting
was at hand. His men saw it too, and were growing eager, but there were
only fifteen of them unwounded, and the French were still at the
smallest computation, two to one. And so Mr. Rogers held his men back,
and let the gunners have their way a little longer. At last, about a
quarter-past three, he leapt upon the bulwarks, and, followed by five or
six of his best men, sprang down, sword in hand, on the decks of the
Privateer. There ensued a fierce scuffle, but it lasted only a few
minutes. The French captain led his men on bravely, but he fell dead,
and his men, dismayed at the loss of their commander, wavered, lost
heart, and were driven below decks. A Packetsman exultingly hauled the
French colours down, and the day was won.
Thus ended this long and memorable fight, a striking instance of the
degree in which courage and skill could, in the old days, overcome a
superiority of force and armament. Praises and rewards were unsparingly
bestowed on Mr. Rogers and his brave crew. The former received, almost
immediately, his commission as commander of a regular Packet, together
with a complimentary letter from My Lords the Postmaster General, and a
gratuity of a hundred guineas; the inhabitants of Tortola presented him
with a sword of honour and an illuminated address, and the city of
London, on his return to England, conferred its freedom on him.
Moreover, the value of the prize was paid over to the General
Post-Office and divided among the officers and crew, for though the
Packets were not licensed to take prizes, it was obvious to everybody on
this occasion that the “Windsor Castle” had no alternative but to
capture or be captured.
It appears that at the time of this action the “Windsor Castle” had no
surgeon on board, a most unfortunate occurrence, which probably resulted
in the unnecessary sacrifice of several lives. Many other Packets were
in the same plight, for the Falmouth captains found it difficult to
induce surgeons to offer themselves for the pay authorized, and it does
not seem to have occurred to them to supplement that pay out of their
own resources.
The navy offered better terms than the Post-Office, and so secured
almost all the young surgeons who were willing to go to sea. In former
times the difficulty had been met by stifling all curiosity about the
qualifications of candidates for employment, but such an accommodating
attitude naturally resulted in bringing into the service men of no
qualifications at all, and a stricter rule was reluctantly adopted. It
was not, however, until the year 1810 that the pay of surgeons in the
Packet Service was increased to a point which attracted a sufficient
supply of competent men. The chief duty of the surgeon at ordinary times
was, it may be added, to read prayers to the crew, he being regarded by
My Lords as the most suitable person to perform that office; but the
opportunity of officiating as chaplain does not seem to have added
materially to the attractions of the post.
There were no other actions in 1807, but the following year was marked
by two or three which deserve to be recorded. The fact is, however, that
at this period the conduct of the Packets was so invariably
distinguished by the highest courage and the most zealous sense of duty,
that the narrative of events is perhaps open to the charge of monotony,
and the inclination of the chronicler is to pass somewhat lightly over
the details of many a fight which, if the balance of account were not
already so much in favour of the Packets, would shine with considerable
lustre. Yet it would be manifestly unjust to omit the mention of any
considerable action, and such certainly was that in which the “Prince
Ernest,” Captain James Petre, was engaged in March, 1808.
Captain Petre had been a master in the navy. He bore an excellent
reputation, and kept his men at such a point of training in the use of
their arms as might have been anticipated from an officer of long
experience in war. On March 19th, 1808, the “Prince Ernest,” outward
bound, had entered the belt of ocean patrolled by the Privateers of
Guadeloupe, and a most careful look-out was being maintained. At 8 A.M.
a hail from the masthead informed Captain Petre that a schooner of
suspicious appearance had been sighted to the northward, and somewhat
later a second schooner came in view some miles to the east. Both these
strange vessels altered their course, and bearing down towards the
Packet chased her all the morning.
Captain Petre, as he watched the two enemies crawling up, may well have
felt doubtful of success in the coming fight. Most fortunately, however,
one of the schooners abandoned the chase early in the afternoon, and by
half-past two o’clock only one was in sight. That one was almost within
range of shot, and Captain Petre, recognizing that there was no longer
room for effort to avoid an action, shortened sail and waited for the
enemy.
There was no long delay. At 3 P.M. the Privateer was within pistol shot,
and opened a tremendous fire. She carried ten guns of which four were of
very large calibre, together with over a hundred men, and in the first
half-hour the “Prince Ernest” received so much damage in her sails and
rigging that it was very difficult to handle her. Accordingly about 3.30
P.M. the French secured an opportunity of boarding. They were repulsed,
however, with some loss, and the cannonade recommenced, continuing
unabated for another hour. At 5 o’clock the enemy prepared themselves
for a great effort. The great guns roared out with redoubled fury, the
musketeers planted in the tops of the Privateer sent a storm of balls on
the deck of the Packet, and at the same moment the French captain laying
his ship alongside the “Prince Ernest” hove his boarders into her in
great numbers.
“My choice little crew,” as Captain Petre called them, were perfectly
prepared to receive their enemies, and harassed them with pikes and
cutlasses as they struggled up the boarding nettings. The numbers of the
French were so great, however, that they would doubtless have
overpowered the Cornishmen in the end, had not Captain Petre, noticing
that the enemy had omitted to cast out grapplings, so that nothing but
the direction of the Privateer’s helm kept the ships together, ordered
his best marksman to shoot the steersman.
As the man fell, and the tiller swung round, another ran forward and
jammed it into the necessary position, but he had hardly done so when he
too fell across his comrade’s body. There was a moment’s hesitation
before another man sprang to seize the helm, and in that moment the
vessels parted.
It was then an easy matter to dispose of the few Frenchmen who had made
good their footing on the Packet. As the Privateer sheered off, the
Falmouth men clutched at the colours flying from her maingaff, and tore
away the greater part of them. “I regret,” said Captain Petre, with
pardonable triumph, when on his return to England he forwarded this
trophy to the Postmaster General, “I regret that they had hold of
nothing stronger.” Perhaps he did, but looking at the relative force of
the two vessels it can scarcely be supposed that My Lords with their
higher responsibility shared his regret.
In September, Captain Anthony, whose successful actions in the
“Cornwallis” have been described above, fought the Privateer “La
Duquesne” of twelve guns for over two hours at close quarters, and beat
her off at last with the loss of two men killed and two wounded; while
in November, Captain John Bull had the misfortune to be captured, after
a very gallant resistance, by “La Josephine,” a French brigantine
carrying fourteen 24–pounders and sixty-eight men.