THE OUTBREAK OF THE AMERICAN WAR.
The contrast between the events detailed in the last few chapters on the
one hand, and on the other those which occurred in the nine years
preceding the Peace of Amiens, must strike the most casual reader very
forcibly. Where, in those earlier years, was that splendid daring with
which Captain Rogers led his men to victory, that dogged obstinacy which
brought Captain Anthony successfully out of three fights against a heavy
superiority of force within two years, that self-sacrificing zeal which
animated Captain Dyneley in his great exploit at Dominica, enabling him
to accept the whole burden of the risk which the merchants declined, and
so to save a rich island for the British crown?
The evil days on the Falmouth Station had passed away like a dream, and
if they are here recalled, it is but with the object of claiming for the
Headquarter Staff, and for the officers themselves, full credit for the
patient labours which had destroyed the evil practices and created the
better spirit. None but those who have shared in the labour of
controlling a large body of subordinates can fully appreciate the
difficulty of carrying out even such changes of practice as are
generally accepted as necessary and reasonable. There is among every
large body of men an inertia which only time and patience can overcome.
The individual can be moved, but the mass as a whole declines to stir.
So it is when rules not specially distasteful are enforced; but when the
new regulation cuts at the root of ancient privilege, when it strikes
off a profit which by long prescription is regarded as a right, then a
number of forces come into opposition more powerfully than the dead
weight just mentioned, and the administrator finds his judgment and
discretion subjected to a heavy strain.
Therefore, to have enforced the new rules, and not only that, but to
have evolved and called out a spirit so different from that which
existed on the Falmouth Station ten years before, was an achievement of
which the Postmaster General and the Secretary might well feel proud.
The conduct of the Packets had been increasingly brilliant, and when the
year 1812 began they were in a state of discipline and ardour which
would have done credit to any naval force.
It was well that their condition was so good, for the time was at hand
when they were to be put to a fiercer test than any which the French
Privateers had been able to apply. There were still old men at Falmouth
who could remember how the Packets fared in the first American War, and
who knew well that the Privateers of Boston or Newport were ten times
more formidable than those of Nantes or of Bordeaux. The national belief
in the superiority of British pluck to that of any other country would
scarcely hold against sailors of our own race; and, as a matter of fact,
it is well known that the American cruisers, both national and private,
were largely manned with picked men from the British navy, driven by the
somewhat harsh and inconsiderate treatment which was too prevalent in
our ships to take service with a power which at least fed and paid them
well, and treated them with reasonable consideration.
The temptations offered by the Americans to the trained sailors of
English ships had always constituted one of the greatest difficulties of
the Packet captains, any one of whom had lost at different times numbers
of his best men by desertion. Probably many of the sailors who thus
deserted their flag rejoined it on the outbreak of war; but it is
certain that a great number remained in their adopted service, arguing,
perhaps, in some confused way, that a war between two sections of the
English race which only a generation ago were one united power was of
the nature of a civil war, in which there was no question of treason,
but every man might take sides according to his judgment.
Whether they salved their consciences with sophistries or not, yet there
they were; and the knowledge of this fact was alone sufficient to
convince My Lords the Postmaster General that an enemy very different
from the French was at hand. It was indeed; but few even of the officers
who formed this conclusion could have anticipated such desperate
fighting as actually occurred, or could have looked to the little
Packets for such splendid conduct as they showed, in what, if the truth
must be admitted, was not the brightest period of British naval history.
The war broke out in June, 1812, but it was not until September that any
one of the Packets was brought to action.
On the 15th of that month the “Princess Amelia,” three days out from St.
Thomas on her homeward voyage, was brought to action by the Privateer
“Rossie” of Baltimore, Commodore Barney. The “Princess Amelia” was
commanded by Captain Moorsom, a brave and energetic officer of a family
well known in our naval annals, both then and since. The “Rossie”
carried ten 12–pounders, in addition to a long 9–pounder mounted on a
traverse. The “Princess Amelia” had but six guns—she should have carried
eight; the cause of the deficiency is not explained—of which at least
four were only 6–pounders, the others 9–pounders, and she carried
twenty-eight men and boys as against ninety-five upon the Privateer.
There are but scanty details of the fight. The “Rossie,” which had
chased the Packet for several hours, and had not answered the private
signal, came within range at 6 P.M. She was flying Spanish colours; but
Captain Moorsom, suspecting her nationality, ordered a shot to be fired
at her, whereupon she immediately hoisted the Stars and Stripes, crossed
the Packet’s stern, and fired a broadside as she did so. The action
immediately became warm, and the first ten minutes proved that the
Americans were masters of their weapons. Within the first half-hour four
or five of Captain Moorsom’s crew were hit. At half-past six the master,
Mr. Nankivell, was shot through the head. Twenty minutes later Captain
Moorsom himself was killed by a grape-shot which pierced his left
breast. The command devolved on Mr. Ridgard, the mate, who was himself
badly wounded; and on looking round he discovered that out of the
complement of the “Princess Amelia,” consisting only of twenty-eight
hands, three were killed, and no less than eleven wounded, for the most
part seriously, so that the crew was already reduced to half its number,
while the enemy were as five to one. Mr. Ridgard reluctantly concluded
that all had been done which was possible to save the Packet.
Accordingly the mail was sunk, and at seven o’clock the “Princess
Amelia” hauled down her colours.
Such was the first action fought by the Falmouth Packets during the
American war, a rough forecast of what was to come, justifying anxiety
about the immediate future. For Captain Moorsom was one of the ablest of
the Post-Office commanders. His ship and crew were in high condition;
and yet the accounts of his last fight showed that the event was never
doubtful, though his high courage led him to prefer dying on his own
quarter-deck to surrendering his trust, even to a crushing superiority
of force.
In November of the same year a fight upon a greater scale took place,
one indeed which was perhaps the most memorable of all those in which
the Packets were engaged. Many of the actions described in these pages
are out of the common; but a few stand forth from among the rest, marked
by quite exceptional circumstances of bravery and devotion. Among these
few the action of Captain James Cock in the “Townshend” on November
22nd, 1812, stands first, though unsuccessful.
The “Townshend” was armed somewhat more heavily than the “Princess
Amelia,” having on board eight 9–pounder carronades, with a long gun of
similar calibre used as a chaser. Her crew was also slightly larger,
numbering twenty-eight men and four boys. She was within a few hours of
dropping her anchor at Bridgetown, Barbados, when the first light of
morning revealed two strange vessels cruising in company at no great
distance.
These vessels proved to be two American Privateers, the “Tom,” Captain
Thomas Wilson, and the “Bona,” Captain Damaron. The former was armed
with fourteen carronades, some 18 and some 12–pounders, as well as two
long 9–pounders, and carried a hundred and thirty men. The latter had
six 18–pounders, with a long 24–pounder mounted on a traverse, and a
crew of ninety men. The forces on each side were therefore as follows,
assuming that the “Tom” carried as many 18 as 12–pounders:—
Weight of metal, in Number of men.
pounds.
Privateers, 360 220
Packet, 78 32 (besides four
passengers, who seem to
have rendered some
assistance).
This enormous preponderance of force was greatly increased in effective
power by being divided between two opponents. A single vessel might be
crippled by a lucky shot; but if good fortune rid the “Townshend” of one
antagonist in this way, there still remained the other to be reckoned
with, more powerful in every way than herself.
If ever circumstances justified surrender after a short resistance, they
were present in this case. It might even be thought that resistance was
a useless sacrifice of life; but such was not Captain Cock’s view. He
held it to be his plain duty not only to keep the mails out of the hands
of the enemy—which could be done effectually by sinking them at any
moment—but to use every means in his power to preserve them for their
proper owners, and not to abandon hope of delivering them at the agent’s
office in Bridgetown until every chance of doing so was gone. Now there
were still two chances in his favour; first, that he might hold out
until the noise of firing attracted some of the British cruisers which
were probably in the immediate neighbourhood, and if that chance failed,
he might run the “Townshend” ashore on some shoal of the coast now in
sight where the Privateers could not follow him. Both these chances were
desperate enough; but Captain Cock saw his duty clear before him, and
cared nothing for the consequences. All his preparations were quickly
made, and every man was at his post before the Privateers came within
range, which they did about 7 A.M.
At 7.30 A.M. the “Tom” had placed herself abeam of the Packet to
larboard, while the “Bona” lay on the starboard quarter, and both their
broadsides were crashing into the “Townshend” at pistol shot distance,
all three vessels running before the wind. This lasted till eight
o’clock. The Americans, as was usual with them, made great use of
“dismantling shot,” _i.e._ chain and bar shot; the effect of which upon
the rigging of the “Townshend” was most disastrous. It was not long
before her sails were hanging in ribbons, and her spars greatly damaged;
and in some momentary confusion from this cause the “Tom” seized an
opportunity of pouring in her boarders, while the “Bona” redoubled her
fire, both of great guns and of musketry, to cover their attack.
In what force the boarders came on this occasion we are not told, but as
the crew of the “Tom” consisted of one hundred and thirty men there is
no improbability in supposing that they numbered fifty or sixty. Captain
Cock, moreover, having a foe on either quarter, could not bring the
whole even of his handful of men to meet them, but must leave a
sufficient number to work the guns, which were keeping the “Bona” at a
respectful distance. He may perhaps have had twenty men at his back in
this hand-to-hand fight; but each one of them acquitted himself so well
that after a fierce tussle the Americans were driven back to their own
ship. This success was only won by the loss of four of Captain Cock’s
best hands, who received disabling wounds in the fight.
Thereupon both Privateers resumed the cannonade, maintaining the
positions which they had taken up at the commencement of the action, and
for another hour the “Townshend” endured the fire of her enemies’ heavy
guns, the courage of her commander and crew remaining as high and
stubborn as ever.
The Packet was now so much shattered that she could with difficulty be
handled. Again and again the “Tom” bore down upon her, and hurled fresh
boarders up her sides. Time after time Captain Cock led his wearied men
to meet them, and each time drove them back.
In these repeated close fights the Cornishmen met with heavy losses, Mr.
Sidgman, master of the “Townshend” being killed, and six more sailors,
making ten in all, desperately wounded. His crew was now so reduced in
numbers that it was with the greatest difficulty that Captain Cock could
continue to serve the guns, and at the same time to collect sufficient
men to meet the constantly recurring boarding attacks. It was plain that
this situation of affairs could not last. There was no sign of succour
on the sea, and when Captain Cock looked aloft, he could not but admit
that in the crippled condition of his ship, all chance of running her
ashore was gone. The “Townshend” was in fact a mere wreck. Her bowsprit
was shot in pieces. Both jib-booms and head were carried away, as well
as the wheel and ropes. Scarcely one shroud was left standing. The
Packet lay like a log on the water, while the Privateers sailed round
her, choosing their positions as they pleased, and raking her again and
again.
Still Captain Cock held out. It was not until ten o’clock, when he had
endured the attack of his two powerful enemies for nearly three hours,
that he looked about him and recognized that the end had come. There
were four feet of water in the hold, and the carpenter reported that it
was rising rapidly. The Packet was in fact sinking. Nearly half the crew
were in the hands of the surgeon. The rest, exhausted and hopeless of
success, had already fought more nobly than even he could have foreseen,
and were now being uselessly sacrificed. Still Captain Cock’s pride
rebelled against surrender; and as he saw the colours he had defended so
well drop down upon the deck, it is recorded that he burst into tears.
There lies before the writer a faded yellow scrap of paper on which one
of the American captains recorded in generous terms his opinion of his
foe. It runs as follows: “I do certify that Captain James Cock, of the
Packet brig ‘Townshend,’ captured this day by the private armed
schooners ‘Tom’ and ‘Bona,’ did defend his ship with courage and
seamanship, and that he did not strike his colours until his vessel was
perfectly unmanageable and in the act of sinking. Sd., Thomas Wilson, on
board the ‘Townshend,’ November 22nd, 1812.” Subjoined to this
certificate is a statement of the force of the Privateers, as given
above. The loss of the “Townshend” has already been indicated; that of
the Privateers Captain Cock was allowed no opportunity of ascertaining.
He believed, however, that it was heavy, and he mentions positively that
the “Tom,” the larger of the two, had received so much injury in her
spars, sails, and rigging, that it was the intention of her captain to
put back to port to refit.
When the Americans took possession of the “Townshend,” they found her so
literally a wreck that they could make no use of her; and they therefore
resolved to set her on fire, sending the crew, whom they did not wish to
retain as prisoners, ashore in their own boats. Against this decision
Captain Cock protested vehemently, pointing out the inhumanity of
exposing so many wounded men to the perils of a voyage in boats which
were so much shattered as to make it extremely doubtful whether they
could reach the land. Finally, he was permitted, in exchange for a bill
for £1200, to resume possession of his ship, after it had been plundered
of everything of value. His unwounded men set to work with a will,
plugged the shot-holes, held the leaks in check, and at 7 P.M. the
“Townshend” dropped her anchor in Carlisle Bay. There her injuries were
repaired as far as the imperfect appliances of the dock-yard permitted,
and shortly after the New Year she set sail for England, still in a
rather crazy state.
On January 18th at 1 P.M. a large schooner came in sight, about four
miles away on the larboard bow. When first seen, the schooner was
laying-to; but she made sail in chase almost immediately, and at 2.30
P.M. hoisted English colours. At 3 P.M. the stranger was within half a
mile; and was seen to be hauling down the English ensign and hoisting
the Stars and Stripes. At the same time she fired a gun across the
“Townshend’s” bows, a summons to which Captain Cock replied with his
full broadside, running up his own colours to the main-peak as he did
so. Half-crippled as she was, the “Townshend” was in for it again.
The Privateer hung on the wake of the Packet, yawing every few minutes
so as to deliver her broadside. Captain Cock on his part, not choosing
to risk the loss of ground, kept a steady course, and confined himself
to the use of his chasers, those long brass nine-pounders—“Post-Office”
guns, as they are still called by the old sailors at Falmouth—which had
so often served the Packets in good stead. With these two pieces he kept
playing upon the following enemy with such good effect that at 3.30 P.M.
he had the satisfaction of seeing her foreyard rattle down. There was
some confusion on her decks in consequence of this disaster, and Captain
Cock, seizing the opportunity to drive home the blow, gave the word to
yaw, and delivered his full broadside of round and grape-shot with such
precision as did great injury to the enemy’s spars and rigging, then
hauling to the wind again, resumed practice with his stern guns.
The excellence of the Cornish gunnery had done its work, and by 4 P.M.
the Privateer was observed to be dropping fast astern. In another
quarter of an hour a severe squall came on, and the vessels parted. When
the enemy was last seen she was laying-to, her sails hanging in every
direction, and her crew employed in knotting the shrouds and backstays
and repairing the running rigging.
So, in a manner beyond all praise, ended this cruise of the “Townshend,”
a glorious incitement and example to all the other Packets on the
Falmouth Station.
Great as was the satisfaction at Lombard Street when Captain Cock’s
story became known, there was yet an admixture of less pleasurable
feeling. It was already perfectly clear that the Packets were in greater
danger than at any previous time, unless, indeed, in the first American
war. Already two had been captured by squadrons of frigates, one by the
famous Commodore Rogers, the other by the almost equally well known
Captain D. Porter, each of whom commanded a force against which it would
have been madness to resist. And now two accounts were to hand of fights
with Privateers; and in both, though the resistance of the Post-Office
commanders was even desperately gallant, the force of the enemy had
proved irresistible. However, where the spirit of the officers and men
was so high, My Lords could not doubt that they would give a good
account of themselves; and just at this time an incident occurred which,
though not very important in itself, served to show that audacity was
sometimes the safest of all policies.
The “Lady Mary Pelham,” Captain Stevens, was on her voyage to Malta,
when at daylight on October 15th a large brig was seen standing across
the bows of the Packet. She was evidently a Privateer, and a powerful
one. Captain Stevens felt no doubt that if it came to a fight his vessel
would be over-matched, and he resolved accordingly to play the game of
bluff, relying, as he said “on the ‘Pelham’s’ good looks.” The “Lady
Mary Pelham,” though her force was no greater than that of any other
Packet, had in a remarkable degree the appearance of an eighteen-gun
brig, and this resemblance was increased by Captain Stevens’ conduct.
For instead of manifesting any desire to escape, he showed by all his
actions the greatest readiness for a fight, and hauling up, waited to
receive his enemy. The Privateer came on in doubt, and Captain Stevens,
playing his part boldly, fired a gun across her bows as soon as she came
within range, and ordered her to heave to. On this the enemy, convinced
that she had encountered a British cruiser, hoisted English colours, and
made all sail to escape. Captain Stevens desired nothing more than to
let her go, and resumed his course without any effort to stop her. The
very celerity with which he did this aroused suspicion on board the
strange vessel, which hoisted French colours and fired several guns,
whereupon Captain Stevens, with unabated impudence, hauled up and waited
for her again. This second demonstration of readiness for action
convinced the stranger, which went her ways and troubled the “Lady Mary
Pelham” no more.
In the following month an important service was rendered to the colony
of Demerara by Captain Kirkness, commanding the Packet “Queen
Charlotte,” a service recalling in some degree the patriotic conduct of
Captain Dyneley at Dominica six years before.
The “Queen Charlotte” was lying in Georgetown harbour in the month of
November, waiting for her mails, and Captain Kirkness from the deck of
his ship could see hanging about the entrance to the port a
suspicious-looking vessel. He made his observations quietly, and, having
satisfied himself about the matter, took his boat, went on shore, and
demanding an audience of the governor, General Carmichael, informed him
that an American Privateer was cruising outside the harbour.
It so happened that General Carmichael had that day received letters
from Berbice, informing him, on the authority of a captured merchant
captain, that the “Rattlesnake,” a Privateer which had made herself
extremely notorious since the outbreak of the war, was on her way to
Demerara with the design of intercepting the Cork fleet, which was
expected to arrive in Georgetown from day to day. He had, moreover,
information of another powerful Privateer, which, a day or two before,
had engaged a well-armed merchant vessel for three hours, and which had
since captured several smaller craft within sight of the shore. Both
these vessels were known to be heavily armed and manned. The
“Rattlesnake” carried sixteen 9–pounder carronades, two long nines, and
her “Long Tom,” mounted on a traverse, was no less than a 42–pounder. If
her consort carried an equal weight of metal, the two, acting together,
could easily scatter the Cork fleet.
General Carmichael stated these facts to Captain Kirkness, and appealed
to him to do whatever might be in his power to hold the Privateers in
check, and so provide for the safe arrival of the expected fleet, there
being at the time no British ship of war at his disposal. Captain
Kirkness undertook the adventure willingly. There was, indeed, no other
course, unless he was prepared to stand by idly while the Privateers
swooped down and worked their will on the coming merchantmen. He
received on board a large party of troops, with some volunteers from the
militia; and aided, as Captain Stevens had been, by his Packet’s “good
looks,” sallied out to meet the fleet.
The two Privateers were sighted as soon as the “Queen Charlotte” left
the harbour; but by some curious hesitation, a most unusual quality in
Americans, they did not attack, but hung on the wake of the Packet, as
if believing her too strong for them, until she met the fleet; and then,
recognizing that their opportunity was lost, they bore away on another
tack, and were not seen again.
The credit due to Captain Kirkness for this exploit is not lessened by
the fact that the enemy hung back from action, for this was a stroke of
luck on which he could not have calculated. He risked a fight against
overwhelming odds—for the “Rattlesnake” alone could have blown the
“Queen Charlotte” out of the water—and by his courage and audacity saved
the merchants of this country and of Demerara from very serious losses,
which nothing but his interposition could possibly have averted.
Time has dealt hardly with the records of the Falmouth Service, and the
historian, anxious to do justice to the memory of every officer whose
conduct was distinguished, searches in vain among the brown and dusty
papers for full reports of many a stubborn fight. Eighty years of
neglect have broken frequent gaps in what might have been a continuous
story. As a rule the Post-Office actions were not reported either in the
Gazettes or in the public press; and thus it happens that when the
original letters are not forthcoming, the details of the whole story are
irretrievably lost.
Such is the case with Captain Hartney’s fight in the “Montagu” on
February 1st, 1813. Captain Hartney had on board no less than £16,000 in
bullion, a fact of which the Privateer which attacked him may have got
wind. At any rate she fought with great obstinacy. The battle raged for
three hours within pistol shot, till at last the Americans sheered off,
in the very nick of time, for the Falmouth men had fired away the whole
of their grape, canister, and double-headed shot, and had only a few
round shot left. So ended triumphantly what was evidently a gallant
fight, about which we would gladly know more than the scanty record
tells.
In June the “Duke of Montrose,” Captain Blewitt, was in mid-Atlantic,
outward bound for Halifax, when, on the 9th of that month, she
encountered an American Privateer of superior force. The crew of the
“Duke of Montrose” were in a high state of training, having succeeded,
about five months previously, in beating off the assault of a similar
craft, which they repulsed after an action of six hours, never having
allowed her to close with them during the whole of that long period. The
confidence in themselves and in their officers which they won on that
occasion stood them in good stead now; and, as they watched the onset of
their powerful adversary, every man was cool and confident of success.
At noon the schooner was closing fast on the Packet, and at 12.30 P.M.
she fired three guns. Captain Blewitt, thinking that the enemy would
shortly close, ordered the gunners to reserve their fire until it could
be delivered with more effect; but the Privateer had no intention of
coming to meet the broadside at short range, and Captain Blewitt, seeing
that she hung back, bore up, gave her his stern guns, and then, hauling
across the schooner’s bows, raked her with his starboard guns, and wore
again with the intention of closing, pouring in the fire of his larboard
guns as they came to bear. Thus, while the “Duke of Montrose” had
received only a single broadside, every gun that she carried had been
fired into the Privateer at short range, and the execution must have
been deadly. At 1.45 P.M. the schooner ran down and endeavoured to
grapple the Packet, but the fire of the Cornish gunners was too
well-directed, and she sheered off again to a safer distance.
Half-an-hour later she ceased firing and tacked to the eastward,
whereupon Captain Blewitt tacked to the westward and resumed his voyage
in the best of spirits.
Unhappily his elation was short-lived, for on the following morning
Commodore Rogers in the United States frigate “President” passed that
way. Resistance against such a force as the “President” possessed was
out of the question. The mails were sunk, and the “Duke of Montrose”
surrendered.
Commodore Rogers treated his prisoners with very honourable forbearance
and liberality. He would not permit them to be plundered of the least
trifle, and informed Captain Blewitt that he proposed to send him, with
all his crew and passengers, back to England in their own ship, on
condition that they would enter into a contract to send the Packet back
to America with an equal number of American prisoners in England. This
agreement, drawn up in the most binding terms, was subscribed “upon our
sacred honour” by all the persons concerned; and the “Duke of Montrose,”
having on board a single American officer, arrived at Falmouth towards
the end of June. It then appeared that in the view of the British
Government the agreement was contrary to law; and as it had been
notified to the American Government that exchanges of prisoners on the
high seas would not be recognized as valid, the whole transaction was
declared void; the “Duke of Montrose” was restored to the Post-Office,
the officers and crew were told that they might resume their duties
without being exchanged, and the American officer was sent back to his
own country empty-handed.
The story is not a pleasant one; and while the action of the Government
may have been strictly warranted by the notification made to the United
States, yet the transaction smacks overmuch of the methods of a sharp
attorney, and one cannot but regret that the generous confidence of
Commodore Rogers was not met in the same spirit.
It is impossible to describe, even with the fulness of the official
records, every action which took place during this war; and yet where
all were gallant there is some injustice in making a selection. One
would willingly linger over the story of how Captain Elphinstone in the
“Manchester” fought the “York Town” through a whole day, and did not
surrender till his last round of ammunition had been fired; of how
Captain White in the “Princess Charlotte” beat off an unknown American
vessel in three separate actions extending over four days, during the
whole of which time the enemy kept in company; or of Captain Caddy’s
plucky conduct when the “Governor Tompkins,” a Privateer of ten long
9–pounders, a long 24–pounder on a traverse, and ninety-nine men,
captured his Packet, the “Mary Anne,” after a fight in which the latter
was reduced to a mere wreck.
These fine stories must be summarized; but one fight which occurred
about this time takes rank among the greater actions of the Falmouth
Service, and deserves a fuller description.
The “Express,” Captain John Quick, sailed from Rio de Janeiro on March
23rd, 1813, having on board, in addition to the mails and despatches,
about £20,000 in specie. There seems to have been something in the smell
of specie which attracted Privateers, for the “Express,” which had made
her outward voyage without sighting any suspicious vessel, encountered
near the Cape Verde Islands the “Anaconda,” an American Privateer,
carrying sixteen long 9–pounders, and a hundred and twenty men. This
formidable adversary chased the “Express,” and, after a long pursuit,
brought her to action.
Unfortunately no account has been preserved of the details of the fight.
We are told that it lasted for an hour at close quarters, and it is
clear that the cannonade during that hour must have been very fierce,
for the record says that “the Packet’s sails were cut in pieces fore and
aft, the main and foremast very badly wounded, the main-topmast shot
away, the fore-topsail yard shot away, the foreyard badly wounded, the
main and forestay shot away, the main and fore-rigging very badly cut,
the braces fore and aft and the topsail-sheets shot away, all the
rigging fore and aft in a most shattered condition, four of the
starboard guns dismounted (the ‘Express’ carried only eight), several
shot between wind and water, three feet and a half of water in the hold,
and the Packet actually sinking.” To such a condition had Captain
Quick’s ship been reduced before he judged it consistent with his honour
to surrender. And this in face of a Post-Office regulation, never yet
repealed, which instructed him that “the idea of resistance, except
against Privateers of the smallest class, must be abandoned.” So far
from abandoning resistance, this gallant captain fought his ship till
she was sinking under him, and would certainly have gone down carrying
her brave defenders with her had the surrender been delayed a few
minutes longer.
Such is the spirit in which the Falmouth men fought their losing
battles, earning glory if they could not reach success.