SOME AMERICANS

CHAPTER XVII

CAPTAIN SILAS TALBOT

During the American War of Secession in the eighteenth century, as well as in that of 1812, American seamen took very kindly to privateering.

There were many smart vessels afloat, commanded by intrepid and skilful men, with hardy and well-trained crews, and British naval historians are all agreed as to the success of their ventures and the immense amount of damage inflicted upon our sea-trade by them. Their fast-sailing schooners were usually able to outpace our men-of-war and privateers, and so to make their choice between fighting and running away; and they do not appear to have been averse to fighting when there was the smallest chance of success, or even against considerable odds.

We find, nevertheless, among American writers, considerable diversity of opinion as to the advantages of privateering and the conduct of privateers.

In the _North American Review_ for July 1820, six years after the conclusion of the last war, there is a most urgent appeal against privateering, denouncing all privateers, American and others, as practically pirates, and setting forth in the strongest possible terms the gross iniquity of the whole business.

Mr. Roosevelt, in his "History of the Naval War of 1812," alludes to their privateers in very disparaging terms, pointing out that they were far more keen upon plunder than fighting, and were utterly unreliable; would fight one day, and run away the next.

Mr. George Coggleshall, in the introduction to his "History of the American Privateers during our War with England in the years 1812-14,"

says: "I commence my plea, soliciting public approbation in favour of privateersmen, and for those who served in private armed vessels in the war"; and quotes Jefferson in support of his views.

Mr. E.S. Maclay, in his "History of American Privateers," says: "In general, the conduct of American privateersmen on the high seas was most commendable."

It is, of course, most natural that these writers should stand up for their countrymen, and Englishmen, as has already been stated, are not slow to acknowledge the prowess of American privateersmen. For the details of actions between these and British vessels we are indebted almost entirely to American accounts, and particularly to the two works above mentioned; such engagements are usually only referred to in the briefest terms, or altogether unnoticed, in our naval histories; and the American writers--especially Mr. Coggleshall--display a bitterly hostile spirit which is apt to be very detrimental to the merits of so-called history. And so, while there is no intention of questioning their good faith, one is at least at liberty to wonder where they obtained their information.

According to these writers, British naval officers and privateersmen habitually treated prisoners of war with shocking, wanton brutality: while the Americans exhibited invariable kindness, even beneficence, towards British prisoners: an allegation to which it is impossible to accord full credence, especially when statements are made without reference or authentication.

Moreover, the exploits of American privateersmen are frequently exhibited in an artificially heroic light; the most trivial and obvious measures for the safety of the ship, for instance, related as though they demonstrated extraordinary qualities of courage and resource; while the "long bow" is occasionally conspicuously in evidence, the author apparently not possessing the requisite technical knowledge to perceive the absurdity of some story which he has come across.

In support of his contention that the conduct of American privateers was admirable, Mr. Maclay tells the following story, which, he says, appeared in a London newspaper in December 1814--he does not tell us the precise date, or the name of the paper. Still, here is the story (page 15):

"A trading vessel laden with wheat, from Cardigan, was taken in the Channel by an American privateer. When the captain of the latter entered the cabin to survey the prize, he espied a small box with a hole in the top, on which the words 'Missionary Box' were inscribed. On seeing this the American captain seemed not a little astonished, and addressed the Welsh captain as follows:

"'Captain, what is this?' pointing to the box with his stick. (Why a _stick_, at sea?)

"'Oh,' replied the honest Cambrian, heaving a sigh, ''tis all over now.'

"'What?' said the American captain.

"'Why, the truth is,' said the Welshman, 'that I and my poor fellows have been accustomed, every Monday morning, to drop a penny each into that box for the purpose of sending out missionaries to preach the Gospel to the heathen; but it is all over now.'

"'Indeed,' answered the American captain; 'that is very good.'

"After pausing a few minutes, he said, 'Captain, I'll not hurt a hair of your head, nor touch your vessel'; and he immediately departed, leaving the owner to pursue his course."

There is no disputing the humanity of this American privateer skipper, if the tale be true; but one would be disposed to wonder what his owners said to him about the business. They might want to know what he meant by allowing a Welshman to score off him by means of a pious fraud! A privateer skipper, however religiously disposed, should not put to sea without his sense of humour.

"A still more forcible ill.u.s.tration of the humanity of American privateersmen," says Mr. Maclay (page 16), "is had early in 1782, when the private armed sloop _Lively_, Captain D. Adams, of Ma.s.sachusetts, rescued the officers and crew of the British frigate _Blonde_, which had been wrecked on a barren and desolate island. The treatment which all American prisoners, and especially privateersmen, had received at the hands of the British would have almost justified the commander of the _Lively_ in leaving these shipwrecked mariners to their fate. But the American jack tar is a generous fellow, and nothing appeals so strongly to his compa.s.sion as a fellow-seaman in distress, and on this occasion the people of the _Lively_ extended every a.s.sistance to their enemies and brought them safely into port."

Really, they would have been no better than pirates if they had left them there. There does not appear to be any reason for supposing that American privateersmen were either more or less scrupulous than their British cousins; there was always plunder in view on both sides, and, if plunder could be obtained without fighting, so much the better.

The editor of _De Bow's Commercial Review_ (vol. i., page 518, June 1846), in a note appended to an article upon privateering, says: "Privateering const.i.tutes a separate chapter in the laws of nations.

Every nation has resorted to this method of destroying the commerce of the enemy, without questioning for a moment their right of doing so.

Many have affected to consider it, after all, but legalised piracy, and calculated to blunt the finer feelings of justice and sear the heart to n.o.ble sentiments. We are at a loss, ourselves, to understand how the occupation of a mere privateer can be reconciled with any of the higher feelings of our nature: an occupation whose whole end and purpose is pillage upon the high seas and pecuniary gain out of the fiercest bloodshed. The love of country, patriotic self-devotion, and ardour, have no place in such concerns.... It cannot be doubted, that men estimable in other respects have been found in the pursuit of privateering; but exceptions of this kind are rare, and could not, we think, occur again, in the improved moral sense of mankind."

With these preliminary remarks, let us now recount the doings of some of the American privateersmen, commencing with Silas Talbot.

CAPTAIN--OR COLONEL--SILAS TALBOT

"The Life and Surprising Adventures of Captain Silas Talbot; containing a Curious Account of the Various Changes and Gradations of this Extraordinary Character." Such is the t.i.tle of a small volume published in America about the year 1803; and the editor states that the bulk of the information contained therein was communicated personally by Talbot, and has since been substantially confirmed from various quarters.

Silas Talbot, we learn, was born at Dighton, Ma.s.s., about the year 1752, and commenced his career at sea as cabin-boy. At the age of twenty-four, however, he blossoms into a captain in the U.S. Army--or the rebel army, according to British notions--in the year 1776; and by virtue, we must suppose, of his nautical training, he was placed in command of a fireship at New York, and soon after promoted to the rank of major--but still with naval duties. He speedily attracted attention as a daring and ingenious officer, and was very successful in several enterprises, the most notable being the conquest and capture of a well-armed stationary British vessel, moored in the east pa.s.sage off Rhode Island. He made the attack at night, and devised an ingenious plan for breaching the high boarding-nettings of the Britisher, fixing at the bowsprit end of his sloop a small anchor, which, being forcibly rammed into the net by the impetus of the vessel, tore it away. The attack was devised as a surprise, but the approach of the gallant Talbot was observed, and it was under a heavy fire that he and his men succeeded in their desperate enterprise.

In 1779, having meanwhile been promoted to the rank of colonel, he commenced his career as a privateer commander. The British had a considerable number of private ships of war afloat on the American coast at that time, and Talbot was placed in command of the _Argo_, a sloop of under 100 tons, armed with twelve 6-pounders, and carrying 60 men. She was very heavily sparred--with one mast, of course, and an immense mainsail, the main boom being very long and thick. She was steered with a long tiller, had very high bulwarks, a wide stern, and looked like a clumsy Albany trader; we are told, however, that "her bottom was her handsomest part," which is only another way of saying that, with her big spars, she was, in spite of her uncouth appearance, a swift and handy craft.

In this little stinging wasp Talbot set forth, and, after one or two indecisive skirmishes, he encountered the _King George_, a privateer commanded by one Hazard, a native of Rhode Island, who had been very busy. Captain Hazard had been greatly esteemed, until he elected to fight on the British side, "for the base purpose of plundering his neighbours and old friends"; after which he was naturally regarded with the bitterest hatred, and Talbot approached to the attack, no doubt, with a grim determination to put a stop to the depredations of the renegade.

The _King George_ was of superior force to the _Argo_, carrying 14 guns and 80 men; but her captain apparently permitted Talbot to come to close quarters without opposition, for the writer tells us that he "steered close alongside him, pouring into his decks a whole broadside, and almost at the same instant a boarding party, which drove the crew of the _King George_ from their quarters, and took possession of her without a man on either side being killed."

Talbot was, unquestionably, a born fighter and well versed in nautical strategy and attack; but the writer of these records strikes one as being an enthusiastic and ingenuous person, without practical knowledge of seamanship or warfare, and consequently liable to be imposed upon by any one who could not resist the temptation to tell a "good yarn." Silas Talbot may have been afflicted with this weakness, for all we know. It is a genuine American characteristic, and by no means incompatible with the highest attributes of personal courage and skill in warfare.

However, there is no cause to doubt the truth of the account of the capture of the _King George_, for which Talbot and his men deserve credit.

The next antagonist of the _Argo_ was the British privateer _Dragon_, of 300 tons, 14 guns, and 80 men--rather a small armament and crew for a vessel of that tonnage, in those days.

This was a desperate engagement, carried on for four and a half hours, at pistol-shot. The gallant Talbot had some narrow shaves, for we are told that his speaking-trumpet was pierced with shot in two places, and the skirts of his coat torn off by a cannon-shot! We cannot avoid the conclusion that the gentle narrator was, in vulgar parlance, being "had"

over this story. A modern small-bore bullet, with high velocity, would probably make a clean hole through a tin speaking-trumpet, which might possibly be retained in the hand, if held very firmly, during the process. But a clumsy, slow-sailing pistol or musket ball of that period would simply double up the tin tube and send it flying; while as to the coat-tails--well, it is not stated that Captain Talbot experienced any discomfort in sitting down afterwards, or inconvenience for lack of anything to sit upon. It was a most discriminating cannon-ball!

Nearly all the men on deck--a vessel like the _Argo_ certainly did not fight any men _below_--were either killed or wounded; and the _Dragon_, losing her mainmast, at length struck her colours.

Then came an alarm that the _Argo_ was sinking; "but," says the gentle story-teller, "the captain gave orders to inspect the sides of the sloop, upon which he found several shot-holes between wind and water, which they plugged up." And a very good device, too, though a somewhat obvious one, to prevent a vessel from sinking!

Having refitted his ship, Talbot put out again, this time with the _Saratoga_, another privateer, of Providence, commanded by Captain Munroe, in company; and in due course they came across the _Dublin_, a very smart English privateer cutter of 14 guns, coming out of Sandy Hook. It was agreed that Talbot should first give chase, for fear the sight of two vessels bearing down upon him should make the Britisher shy: rather a transparent device, since Munroe's craft was in sight, at no great distance, the whole time. The Englishman, however, awaited the attack, and a spirited duel ensued by the s.p.a.ce of an hour. When Munroe thought it was time for him to cut in, he found that his ship would not answer her helm. This is explained as follows: "The _Saratoga_ was steered with a long wooden tiller on common occasions, but in time of action the wooden tiller was unshipped and put out of the way, and she was then steered with an iron one that was shipped into the rudder-head from the cabin.... The _Saratoga_ went away with the wind at a smart rate, to the surprise of Captain Talbot, and the still greater surprise of Captain Munroe, who repeatedly called to the helmsman, 'Hard a-weather! Hard up, there!' 'It is hard up, sir!' 'You lie, you blackguard! She goes away lasking! Hard a-weather, I say, again!' 'It is hard a-weather, indeed, sir!' Captain Munroe was astonished, and could not conceive what the devil was the matter with his vessel. He took in the after-sails, and made all the head-sail in his power. All would not do--away she went! He was in the utmost vexation lest Captain Talbot should think he was running away. At last one of his under-officers suggested that possibly the iron tiller had not entered the rudder-head, which, on examination, was found to be the case. The blunder was now soon corrected, and the _Saratoga_ was made to stand towards the enemy; and, that some satisfaction might be made for his long absence, Captain Munroe determined, as soon as he got up, to give her a whole broadside at once. He did so, and the _Dublin_ immediately struck her colours; yet, strange to tell, it did not appear, on strict inquiry and examination afterwards, that this weight of fire, which was meant to tear the cutter in pieces, had done the vessel or crew the least additional injury."

Here is a capital yarn, for the uninitiated; but it serves to ill.u.s.trate the danger of entering upon technical details without adequate understanding. It may be true enough that the tiller was not properly shipped in the first instance; but, this granted, to begin with, any sailing-vessel that is properly trimmed will, upon letting go the tiller, come up into the wind, instead of running off it. Even admitting, however, that the _Saratoga_ was so "slack on her helm," in nautical parlance, as to "go away lasking"--_i.e._ almost before the wind--under such conditions, the very last order the captain would give would be "Hard up," or "Hard a-weather," which would only cause her to run away worse than ever; while taking in the after-sail and piling on head sail would aggravate the evil! If the writer had represented Captain Munroe as shouting, "Hard down! Hard a-lee, you blackguard!"

hauling in his mainsheet and taking off the head-sail, one might believe that Talbot or some other sailor-man had told the story. As it stands, it is ridiculous; but it is repeated, word for word, in various accounts--among others by Mr. Maclay.

Well, the _Dublin_ was captured, hauling down her colours after Munroe's innocuous broadside; and Talbot's next antagonist was the _Betsy_, an English privateer of 12 guns and 38 men, "commanded by an honest and well-informed Scotchman." After some palaver at pistol-shot, Talbot hoisted the stars and stripes, crying, "You must now haul down those British colours, my friend!" To which the Scot replied, "Notwithstanding I find you an enemy, as I suspected, yet, sir, I believe I shall let them hang a little longer, with your permission. So fire away, Flanagan!"

Had the honest Scot been of the same type of privateer captain as George Walker he would certainly have banged in his broadside before the stars and stripes were well above the rail, and perhaps altered the outcome of the action. As it was, Talbot took him, killing or wounding the captain and princ.i.p.al officers and several men.

The little _Argo_ was subsequently put out of commission and returned to her owners; and in 1780 Talbot was given command of another privateer, the _General Washington_. After making one capture, however, he was taken, we are told, by an English squadron off Sandy Hook, and sent on board the _Robuste_, Captain Cosby, where he was courteously treated.

Being transferred, however, to a tender--name not stated--for conveyance to New York, the commander--"a Scotch lord," we are told, "put his gallant captive into the hold. The only excuse for this dastardly behaviour is to be found in the craven fears of his lordship. By a remarkable coincidence, the pilot he employed was the same formerly on board the _Pigot_ (the stationary vessel captured by Talbot at Rhode Island), and this man so frightened his superior with the story of his prisoner's reckless daring that he--notwithstanding a written remonstrance which Captain Talbot forwarded to the British admiral--was thus kept confined below until they reached New York; and the arm-chest was removed to the cabin."

This is quoted from "The Life of Silas Talbot," by Henry T. Tuckerman, published in 1850. The story is given for what it is worth. Had the name of the tender and of the so readily scared "Scotch lord" been given, it would have been more worthy of consideration.