The amount of treasure may be imagined from the fact that each seaman's share came to 850; the officers, of course, receiving much larger sums, in proportion to their rank. The owners' share was not less than 700,000; and the Scottish rebellion--"the '45"--having just broken out, they offered the money as a loan to the Government.
Captain Talbot is said to have behaved with great kindness and generosity to his prisoners, permitting the officers to retain all their valuables and their swords, and presenting each seaman with twenty guineas when they were landed. The enemy, we are told, was most anxious to ransom the ships, but this, of course, was out of the question; and subsequently some of the crews revealed hiding-places in which considerable treasure was stowed in the "linings," or double sides, receiving a handsome present for their pains. Furthermore, in overhauling the cargo, the British seamen every now and then came across a "wedge of gold."
After this Commodore Talbot decided to remain on sh.o.r.e and enjoy his fortune; he joined the body of merchants, who determined to fit out another squadron, the command being entrusted to a man of remarkable character, whose career as a privateer captain we shall now proceed to trace.
Among eighteenth-century privateersmen there is no more honourable name than that of George Walker. He was, of course, a contemporary of Fortunatus Wright, and Sir William Laird Clowes, the eminent naval historian, very truly remarks of these two men that they "did as much to uphold British prestige at sea as any captains of the Royal Navy"; the case might, indeed, be put in stronger language, for there were unhappily a good many instances at this period, in which naval commanders cut a somewhat sorry figure, and Walker himself, as we shall see, was witness upon one occasion of a lack of zeal and enterprise--to put it mildly--on their part which was in striking contrast to the intrepidity and resource displayed by him upon every occasion.
Beyond casual, but invariably complimentary allusions in naval histories, we should have known but little of George Walker, had it not been for the industry of an ardent admirer, who served under him on nearly all his cruises, and subsequently wrote an account of them. The writer withholds both his name and his rank, and tells his story with great simplicity, prompted solely by his admiration of his former chief, and the desire of vindicating his name as a great seaman and a born leader of men; for Walker was, at that time, in gaol for debt, owing to some dispute with his owners, who do not appear to have treated him with the generosity due to so faithful a servant. This is the sordid side of privateering, which, as has been before remarked, is too much in evidence; we need not, however, concern ourselves overmuch with the question of George Walker's financial dealings with his princ.i.p.als; he may, for all we know, have muddled his accounts, but we are prepared to go bail for his honesty of intention. There is abundant evidence of his character in this little book, and no one who reads it will entertain a doubt as to his absolute integrity.
The narrator, in his Introduction, dwells much upon Walker's unwillingness to have his exploits discussed or published. It was with the utmost difficulty that he was persuaded to sanction the publication of this book, and when, in accordance with his strict injunctions, the copy was submitted for his approval before going to the printer, his deletions disposed of nearly one-third of the matter; "at which," says the writer, "I am not so much disobliged by the shortening of the performance as at the loss of real truths which would have ill.u.s.trated the chief personage of my work. And though this account may speak to the modesty of the gentleman himself, yet it is so far paradoxical that it takes greatly from his merit.... I will only say of him herein, as Mr.
Waller does of good writers:
Poets lose half the praise they would have got, Was it but known what they discreetly blot."
Nothing appears to be known of George Walker's birth and early training, save that he served in the Dutch Navy, and was involved in some engagement with, probably, Mediterranean pirates.
In 1739 he was commander and part owner of the ship _Duke William_, trading to Gibraltar and South Carolina; and, with the view of being able to defend himself in case of attack, he obtained a letter of marque, and provided his vessel with twenty guns. His crew numbered only thirty-two: but, with characteristic forethought and resource, he shipped a quant.i.ty of seamen's clothing, in order, should occasion arise, to rig up dummies; and this, according to his biographer, he actually did on the approach of a Spanish privateer of superior force, crowded with men: "setting up all the handspikes and other provided utensils, and dressing them in the marine clothes, and also exercising the boatswain's call in the highest notes, as is usual in king's ships."
This done, Walker proceeded to prepare for the grim realities of action, should it be forced upon him, he and his crew, as they busied themselves clearing away the guns, etc., going into fits of laughter at the grotesque appearance of the row of dummies, standing stiff and motionless amidships. All being ready, Walker, consistently maintaining his game of bluff, fired a shot across the bows of the Spaniard, which was to windward of him. This invitation to fight was not accepted, and, though the Spaniard hung on for a couple of days, he eventually disappeared; so we must suppose that the toy seamen and the boatswain's whistle carried the day!
Arrived at his destination, Walker, while waiting for a cargo, offered his services to the colonial authorities to put an end to the ravages of two Spanish privateers, which were having it all their own way on the coast of North Carolina. His crew was increased by nearly one hundred men, and several gentlemen volunteered their services. The tidings of an English privateer being abroad appears to have been enough for the Spaniards: "We could fall in with nothing which would stay for us upon the seas"; an English vessel was easily retaken from the enemy, a sh.o.r.e battery destroyed, and there was no more trouble. Walker received a tremendous ovation on the conclusion of this service, all the influential persons in the colony offering to sign a request that he might be given command of a king's ship. Upon his declining this, they tendered him an immense piece of land if he would remain amongst them; but Walker preferred to stick to his ship, and sailed for Barbadoes, and thence for England, in company with three traders who placed themselves under his convoy.
The vessels parted company in a gale, which blew with such violence that the _Duke William_ started some of her planks, and leaked like a sieve.
Walker was laid up in his cabin, and was indeed so ill that the surgeon despaired of his life. Things went on from bad to worse: all the guns save two--retained for signalling purposes, by Walker's orders, issued from his bunk--were thrown overboard; the boat was with difficulty preserved from following them, Walker being carried up from below to remonstrate and command; and when a section of the crew, despite his orders, were preparing to desert in the boat--a very desperate venture--a sail appeared; their signals were seen and heard, and she bore down--then, evidently suspecting a ruse by an armed vessel, she hastily hauled off. While the crew were gazing at one another in despair, Walker coolly gave orders to cut away the mizzen-mast instantly; after a momentary hesitation his order was obeyed, and the meaning of it was immediately obvious. Another gun being fired, the stranger, convinced by the crippled condition of the ship, returned to the rescue, and proved to be no stranger, but one of their convoy. The transhipment of Walker and his men was safely effected at immense risk, and they reached home in a sorry plight, this vessel proving almost as unseaworthy as the other. And there Walker was greeted with very unwelcome tidings: he had lost his ship, and his agents had suffered the insurance to lapse; he was a ruined man.
Before entering upon his distinguished career as a privateer captain Walker commanded for eighteen months a vessel trading to the Baltic; and, returning from his last trip in 1744, just after war was declared against the French, he again most successfully adopted a policy of "bluff." Having shipped a number of wooden guns, and otherwise disguised his vessel, being chased off the coast of Scotland by a privateer, and finding she had the heels of him, he tacked, hoisted ensign, jack, and man-of-war's pendant, and fired a gun, as much as to say, "Come on; I'm waiting!" The enemy did not wait, and Walker proceeded quietly upon his homeward voyage.
In this same year, 1744, two fine vessels were equipped as privateers by some London and Dartmouth owners, and Walker was offered command of the _Mars_, of 26 guns and 130 men, her consort being the _Boscawen_, a vessel of similar armament, but of larger tonnage and with a more numerous crew.
When two days out from Dartmouth they encountered a French king's ship, of force about equal to the _Boscawen_, and Walker, of course, immediately engaged her, justly considering that, with his consort, he would soon overpower her; indeed, he would have attacked had he been cruising alone. The captain of the _Boscawen_, however, was quite a different sort of man, with a strong dislike of hard knocks. Instead of seconding Walker's attack, he held off out of range, letting drive once or twice a futile shot, which dropped far short; so Walker was left to fight alone, and after a severe tussle, he and the Frenchman parted, both ships a good deal knocked about. While his crew were repairing damages Walker went on board the _Boscawen_ to have a little talk with her skipper--whose name is not mentioned--"but was never heard to throw any censure publicly on his behaviour." Walker was always a gentleman, and an instinctive disciplinarian. No doubt he gave the other, in private, a slice of his mind, but, as we shall see, without any good result.
A month later, in December, at midnight, with a fresh breeze and thick rain, they suddenly found themselves close to two large vessels. They could hear the people on board talking excitedly, in French, and apparently in a state of alarm, and, judging from these signs that they were treasure ships, Walker and his consort hung on their heels. At eight o'clock next morning the weather cleared and the two strangers were revealed as French men-of-war, the one of 74 and the other of 64 guns; which was exceedingly awkward for the two Englishmen. The Frenchmen were, however, both treasure-ships as well as men-of-war, being bound from the West Indies with cargoes valued at nearly four millions sterling, were not in good fighting trim, and were very anxious to get into Brest with their treasure, so it is quite probable that they would have gone on their way and left the two privateers alone. The captain of the _Boscawen_, however, did not wait to see what they would do; directly he realised their force he crowded sail, and disappeared from the scene without even a parting greeting to his consort; and, seeing only one enemy left, and this a small one, the 64-gun ship--the _Fleuron_--was sent in chase of the _Mars_, rapidly gaining upon her.
"Gentlemen," said Walker, "I do not mean to be so rash as to attempt a regular engagement with so superior a force; all I ask of you is, to confide in me and my orders, to get away, if possible, without striking; and, be a.s.sured, I shall employ your a.s.sistance neither in revenge nor vainglory, nor longer than I think it of use to our design. The ship which pursues is certainly the best sailer of the enemy, by being ordered to the chase; if, by good fortune, we bring down a topmast or yard, or hurt her rigging so as to r.e.t.a.r.d her pursuit, we may entirely get clear."
So he hoisted his colours and opened fire with his stern guns, the enemy replying with his bow-chasers by the s.p.a.ce of over two hours. The _Mars_, however, was not a brilliant sailer, and by this time the 74--the _Neptune_--had crept up, so that she was almost between two fires. There was nothing for it but surrender. "Well, gentlemen," said Walker, smiling, "we don't strike to one ship only--haul down the colours!" And so he went on board the _Fleuron_ to surrender his sword and his privateer commission. The French captain was not as polite as he expected: "How dare you, sir," he asked, in excellent English, "in so small a ship, fire against a force like me?"
"Sir," replied Walker, "if you will look at my commission you will find I had as good a right to fight as you; and if my force had not been so inferior to yours I had shown you more civil treatment on board my ship"--which was a very good specimen of English politeness.
"How many men of yours have I killed?" demanded the Frenchman.
"None at all, sir." "Then, sir, you have killed six of mine, and wounded several; you fired pieces of gla.s.s."
This preposterous accusation was, of course, denied; but it turned out that some missiles of a very unusual nature _had_ been discharged from the _Mars_. The captain of one of the stern guns, realising that they must surrender, took about sixteen shillings from his pocket, saying that "sooner than the French rascals should plunder him of all he had in the world, he would first send it among them, and see what a bribe would do." So he wrapped his shillings up in a rag, crammed them into the gun, and sent them humming and whistling through the Frenchman's rigging, which no doubt gave rise to the gla.s.s theory--neither Frenchmen nor any one else could be expected to recognise the "ring" of a coin under the circ.u.mstances! The facetious gunner was an Irishman.
Well, the _Mars_ was captive, while the _Boscawen_ had prudently escaped; but this was not the end of the incident. The action took place on a Friday, and at daybreak on Sunday morning four large ships were sighted astern; it did not require a long period of observation to realise that they were coming up pretty fast, and in a couple of hours they were recognised as English men-of-war. Then the Frenchmen began to regret that they had stopped to capture the privateer, instead of making the most of their way homeward with their treasure, which now appeared almost inevitably destined to become English treasure.
The captain of the _Fleuron_--who by this time had learned that his prisoner, though only captain of a privateer, was worthy of respect--discoursed to Walker in some bitterness on this subject, and added: "It is seldom any great accident happens from single causes, but by a chain or series of things; thus, if we be here overcome, our loss will be owing to the waspishness of a single frigate, which would not cease fighting so long as it had a sting in its tail"--a remark which, if somewhat bitter, was appreciative.
The English squadron gained steadily, and the French officer in charge of the _Mars_ put his helm up and ran to leeward, hoping to draw off one of the ships after him; in which he was successful, the _Captain_, a 70-gun ship, giving chase, and eventually recapturing the _Mars_.
The other three ships were the _Hampton Court_, 70 guns, and the _Sunderland_ and _Dreadnought_, each of 60 guns. The _Sunderland_ lost a spar, and dropped astern, but the other two were nearly alongside the French ships by sunset, the _Dreadnought_, a poor sailer, being somewhat astern.
The French captain thereupon, seeing an action inevitable, politely requested Walker and his officers to go below. "Sir," said Walker, "I go off with great pleasure on the occasion, as I am now certain of my liberty; and I hope to have the satisfaction of seeing you again in being."
He was not destined, however, to regain his liberty so easily, for these naval captains, what with faulty tactics and absolute want of zeal and enterprise, entirely bungled the whole business, and permitted the French ships to escape, treasure and all. The _Captain_ was commanded by Captain Thomas Griffin, senior officer of the squadron, who detached himself to chase the _Mars_, and gave, as an excuse, when he was tried by court-martial, that he thought the _Mars_ was the only man-of-war, and the two larger vessels her convoy. The court apparently accepted this flimsy story--although the _Captain_ was nearer than the other ships, and no one else had any such notion--but the Service generally did not.
Captain Savage Mostyn, of the _Hampton Court_, hung about the French ships without firing a shot, waiting for the _Dreadnought_ to come up, instead of endeavouring to disable them aloft; and he also cut an extremely sorry figure at the court-martial; but his lame and almost incredible excuses were accepted. He was acquitted, and said to have "done his duty as an experienced good officer, and as a man of courage and conduct." There seemed to be a determination to let off everybody just then; but the public did not let off Mostyn, for when he sailed from Portsmouth a year later, still in command of the _Hampton Court_, it was to the cry of "All's well! There's no Frenchman in the way!"
Now, it is a sad thing to have to say all this of naval commanders; and still more humiliating to reflect that, had George Walker, master-mariner and privateer skipper, been in command of that squadron, no such fiasco would have occurred; but this is most undoubtedly true.
Walker would have had those French treasure ships had he been in command of the _Hampton Court_, as surely as he was then a prisoner on board one of them, watching with shame and disgust the paltry tactics of his countrymen, and compelled subsequently to listen to the boastful and disparaging comments of the Frenchmen.
Arrived at Brest, the Englishmen had no cause to complain of their treatment. Walker had by this time so ingratiated himself with the captain of the _Fleuron_, that the latter acceded to his request that the crew of the _Mars_ might be landed at once, on the day after their arrival, and might receive every possible consideration until they could be exchanged; and he resisted strenuously Walker's request that he might go and see personally to the comfort of his men, begging to know in what he had fallen short, to be thus deprived of his esteemed company. Walker politely insisting, the French captain gave him a most flattering letter of introduction to the Governor, who liberated the English captain and all his officers on parole, and treated them handsomely in every respect.
They left the _Fleuron_ none too soon. On the following day, while Walker was in the act of writing to the captain to beg him to send him his letter of credit, which was in a tin box with his commission, people came running in crying that the _Fleuron_ had blown up. It was, indeed, too true; and the catastrophe was entirely due to the gross carelessness of the gunner, who, landing the powder, left some four or five barrels in the magazine for saluting purposes, and did not even have the loose powder, spilt in emptying the cartridges, swept up under his own eye.
Some stupid fellows, engaged afterwards in this work, took a decrepit old lantern down with them; the handle broke, the flame ignited the loose powder, and that was the end of the _Fleuron_; she burnt to the water's edge, and then went down, treasure and all; and the guns having been left loaded--it seems almost incredible, but we have the account of an eye-witness--kept going off at intervals, preventing the approach of boats, etc., which might have saved many of the crew. Walker had to mourn the loss of his friend, the courteous and generous captain, and also that of his letter of credit--a serious temporary inconvenience.
We must not dwell in detail upon the sojourn of Walker and his crew in France. Their exchange was arranged in a few weeks, Walker, by his courage, tact, and ability smoothing over every difficulty as it arose, and making many friends in the process. Indeed, the simple and straightforward account by the narrator of his cheerful and undaunted bearing under sundry incidental trials which arose, from lack of means, etc., fills one with admiration of the man. They arrived at Weymouth on February 28th, 1745, and Walker lost no time in reporting himself to his owners at Dartmouth, who, though they had heard, through the recaptured _Mars_, of his whereabouts, and had sent him fresh letters of credit, scarcely expected him so soon.
The _Mars_ being repurchased, the two vessels were again fitted out for a cruise, the very cautious captain of the _Boscawen_ being replaced by Walker's first lieutenant, who, however, was placed in command of the _Mars_. Walker selected the _Boscawen_ as his own command, as being the finer vessel and the better sailer; she was a French-built ship, a prize in the last war, mounting 28 nine-pounders. Walker increased her armament to 30 guns, twelve and nine-pounders, and shipped a crew of 314 men. Thus she was, as the writer says, "perhaps the most complete privateer ever sent from England"; but she was not as good as she looked, and Walker had cause afterwards to regret that he had increased her weights, for she was structurally what an English shipwright would describe as a "slopped" ship; cheaply built, and inefficiently fastened.
However, she was good enough for some brilliant work, with her able skipper and an enthusiastic crew, in the shipping of which there had been a pa.s.sage of arms between Walker and one Taylor, captain of an Exeter privateer then fitting out, who found Walker in such favour that he could not obtain a full crew; so he had recourse to some very underhand devices to decoy the _Boscawen's_ men, one of whom, with address worthy of his captain, led him into a trap and made a complete fool of him, eventually taking nearly all the men he had succeeded in shipping to make up the _Boscawen's_ crew; while Captain Walker interviewed the owner--whose brother he had been instrumental in getting exchanged in France--and told him what he thought of him and his methods--and no one could talk straighter then Walker, when he found it necessary. There were some very amusing incidents in connection with these doings, which, however, must be omitted for lack of s.p.a.ce; we must get to sea again.
Without waiting for the _Mars_, Walker put to sea on April 19th, 1745, and a month later fell in with the privateer _Sheerness_, Captain Parnell, and kept company during the night. At daybreak, being then fifty miles west of the Lizard, they sighted eight vessels, evidently in company, and gave chase. The _Boscawen_ left the other astern, and about nine o'clock the enemy formed line, and were soon made out to be armed vessels, awaiting attack. This was odds enough to discourage most men, and the _Sheerness_ being hopelessly astern, no one imagined that Walker intended engaging, though all preparation was made for action.
Reading some suspense and anxiety in the faces of his officers, Walker called them together and addressed them: "Gentlemen, I hope you do not think the number of prizes before us too many. Be a.s.sured, by their being armed, they have something on board them worth defending; for I take them to be merchantmen with letters of marque, and homeward bound.
Without doubt we shall meet with some opposition, in which I have not the least doubt of your courage; but I see we must here conquer also by a mastership of skill. Be cool, and recollect every man his best senses; for, as we shall be pressed on all sides, let every man do his best in engaging the enemy he sees before him, and then one side need not fear nor take thought for the other. In a word, gentlemen, if you give me your voice for my leading you on, I p.a.w.n my life to you, I will bring you off victorious."
Was ever a more masterly speech from a chief to his subordinates? But one reply was possible; the men went to their quarters and the _Boscawen_ sailed on into the thick of the enemy's line, strict orders being issued that, whatever fire they might receive, not a shot was to be returned until the captain gave the word. There were, unfortunately, sixty men sick, and these, with the exception of three, crawled on deck to render what a.s.sistance they could, or at least to see the fun.
Steering straight for the largest vessel, though already considerably damaged aloft by the fire of the others, Walker delivered his broadside, and then the enemy got round him, two on either side, one ahead and one astern; the other two apparently decamped, and took no part in the action. The ship astern, after attempting to rake the _Boscawen_, was so roughly handled by her stern guns that she hauled off, and struck her colours. The fight was continued with the remaining five for the s.p.a.ce of an hour; and the writer a.s.serts that it was maintained on board the _Boscawen_ without any confusion or disorder, the men, under the officers' orders, banging away at whatever happened to be in front of their guns, "without fear or thought for the others." The flagship struck, and sank ten minutes later; the remaining four stuck to it, hoping yet to subdue the sorely battered _Boscawen_; but Walker's men remembered his pledge to them, and were resolved that he should not be stultified. In another half-hour every flag was down, and the _Sheerness_, at length coming up, chased and captured one of the runaways; so the "bag" was one sunk and six captured.
The enemy is stated to have had 113 killed and drowned, while the _Boscawen's_ casualties amounted only to one killed and seven wounded.
The writer ascribes this comparative immunity to a protection, a raised bulwark, "man-high," of elm planking, which Walker had caused to be erected, with a step on which the marines could mount to fire, and stand down to load; and he says the elm did not splinter, but kept out bullets, and closed up round the holes made by shot. With due allowance for this, however, the Frenchmen must have made very wretched practice; they were probably unpractised and undisciplined merchant crews; but it was a brilliant affair. The vessels were all homeward bound "Martinico men," as Walker had surmised, provided with letters of marque.
An old lady, a person of some distinction, a pa.s.senger in the commodore's ship, was picked up, floating about on a bale of cotton; she did not know how she had got there. The commodore was also rescued, and Walker gave them the use of his cabin, and fitted out the old lady with "a silk nightgown, some fine linen waistcoats, cambric night-caps, etc., in which she appeared a kind of hermaphrodite in dress"; a droll figure, indeed! But a privateer skipper can scarcely be expected to be provided with requisites for such an occasion. The poor old lady had a tragic tale to tell, for her daughter, a young girl, went down with the ship; and her account of the scene between decks, where she and her daughter retired during the action, is ghastly enough: "Hither they brought the poor bleeding sailors, one after another, without legs, without arms, roaring with their pains, and laid in heaps to be butchered anew by the surgeon, in his haste and despatch of cure or death. Here several of the objects died at our feet. Thus surrounded by the ghastly prospect, all at once death himself came breaking in upon us, through the side of the ship; cut down the surgeon and one of his mates, and shattered the whole medicine-chest in pieces. Here was a total suspension of all relief to the poor wounded wretches; death coming, as it were, to reinforce his own orders and stop every means or effort to prevent him."
Arrived with his shattered vessel and equally dismantled prizes at King's Road, Bristol, Walker, reporting proceedings to the Admiralty, received a handsome congratulatory letter from the Secretary.
Sailing once more in July, Walker captured in August a vessel, the _Catharina_, which he subsequently bought as a tender, naming her the _George_; and in the following month he found himself, as was so often the case in privateers, at loggerheads with his crew over a vessel--a Dutchman--which he overhauled, and, being satisfied that her cargo was not contraband, dismissed her. The crew, after grumbling among themselves, a.s.sembled on deck while Walker was at supper, demanding to see him.
He and his officers armed themselves and went on deck, and faced the three hundred angry men, who required to know why the Dutchman was not good prize. Walker's reply was admirable: "This is not the way to ask me. I am willing that the meanest man in the ship shall be satisfied of my conduct, but I will give that satisfaction in my own way, and not be called to account by you. I am sorry, indeed, that it should ever be said of me that I was obliged to take up arms against my own people, in defence of conduct which can be so easily supported by words only. It will be a pain to me to reflect upon it, as long as I live, and a blot on the character I imagined I had gained. I am very willing to explain to you what rights we have over Dutch vessels, but I shall choose my own time for doing it; and every man who does not instantly separate to his duty, when I give the word, I shall treat him as an a.s.sociate in a mutiny."
Two of the men called out that it would be too late to explain when the chase was out of sight. "Bring those men aft, and put them in irons,"
said Walker; and he was obeyed. Next morning he gave them a lecture on prize law and discipline, to which they listened in all submission.
CHAPTER XII