ATTACKING A PIRATE OFF ALGIERS.
A third battle was fought between these redoubtable combatants on the 11th August 1673. Sir Edward, with the blue squadron, was in the rear as the fleet neared the enemy. He had engaged to keep closely in company with Prince Rupert, but with lynx eye detecting what he considered a provocation on the part of Van Tromp, he laid his fore-topsail to the mast to wait for him, and, having engaged his squadron, maintained a hot contest for many hours, at a distance of several leagues to leeward of the main body of the fleet. Sir Edward, at the beginning of the action, fought on board the Royal Prince; Van Tromp was in the Golden Lion. It is recorded that Van Tromp avoided—and that Spragge strove to get to—close quarters; however this may be, after a terrible onslaught on each other for some time, both of the flag-ships became so much disabled as to compel the two admirals to change to other ships, Sir Edward to the St. George, and Van Tromp to the Comet. Having got on board these ships, the fight was renewed with, if possible, increased fury, and with determination on both sides to end it, with either death or victory. Again the St. George, Sir Edward’s flag-ship, was so battered that he was fain to leave it and take to the Royal Charles. This movement, alas! resulted in a fatal disaster. He had not been rowed many yards from the St. George when a shot struck the boat. The crew made every possible exertion to get back to the ship they had just left, but failed to reach it, and thus this brave commander perished miserably by drowning. Sir Edward sank with the boat, and, when it rose again, he rose with it, clutching it by the gunwale, with his head and shoulders above water, but—dead. How deplorable that this courageous commander should have been conquered in a trial out of which the dusky, untutored child of a South Sea Island savage would have come in safety; the hero could fight from early morn till dewy eve, could possess his soul in patience on the water for voyages lasting many weeks, covering many leagues,—but he could not swim a few yards.
In the history of his own times, Bishop Parker thus refers to the last gallant fight and death of Sir Edward Spragge:—
“There was a remarkable fight between Spragge and Van Tromp; for these, having mutually agreed to attack each other, not out of hatred, but from a thirst of glory, engaged with all the rage, or, as it were, the sport, of war. They came so close to one another that, like an army of foot, they fought, at once with their guns and their swords. Almost at every turn, both of their ships, though not sunk, were bored through,—their cannon being discharged within common gunshot range; each ship pierced the other as if they had fought with spears. At length, after several ships had been shattered, as Spragge was passing from one ship to another, the boat was overturned by a chance shot, and that great man, being unable to swim, was drowned, to the great grief of even his generous enemy, who, after the death of Spragge, could hardly hope to find an enemy equal to himself.” The author of the Life of De Ruyter, referring to this fierce conflict, says: “The Dutch avow the like never to have been seen; their own two ships (the ships of Tromp and Spragge) having, without touching a sail, strangely endured the fury of three hours’ incessant battery.”
It is difficult to get at anything approaching an adequate conception of the horrible scenes of carnage that must have been presented by this sanguinary conflict. Some particulars respecting Sir Edward’s flag-ship, the Royal Prince, with which he went into action, may assist in forming an idea of the dreadful devastation. The Royal Prince was a first-rate, of 1400 tons burthen, armed with one hundred pieces of brass ordnance, and carrying seven hundred and eighty men. She was well built, in perfect condition in all respects, and as fine a ship as any in either of the fleets. Before Sir Edward Spragge left the Royal Prince, the masts had all been shot away, most of the guns on the upper tier were disabled, four hundred men had been killed, and the ship was almost a helpless wreck. In this lamentable condition a large Dutch man-of-war, with two fire-ships, bore down upon the miserable object,—the Dutch commander resolving to burn, sink, or capture the Royal Prince. The first lieutenant, considering continued resistance hopeless, ordered the colours to be struck, and bid the men shift for themselves as they could. Richard Leake, the heroic master gunner, could not accept any such finish to the fray; he boldly took the command, ordered the lieutenant to go below, sank the two fire-ships, compelled the Dutch man-of-war to sheer off, and, wreck as it was, brought the Royal Prince into port. This hero, father of the famous Sir John Leake, was afterwards appointed Keeper of Ordnance Stores, and Master Gunner of England.
Sir Edward Spragge was highly distinguished for skill and bravery as a naval commander. To urbane and polite manners he united a resolute and daring spirit. He was beloved by his men, idolised by his friends, feared yet honoured by his enemies. His achievements in life commanded the enthusiastic admiration of his countrymen; his death was universally mourned.
SIR THOMAS ALLEN.
CHAPTER XIV. THE PROMOTED PRIVATEER.
The martial and naval heroes of England have been recruited from all classes, patrician and plebeian, with a large contribution from the class intermediate, to which Allen belonged. Some commanders rendered eminent service, to each of the great parties in the State, about the middle of the seventeenth century, who contended for supreme power—the Royalists and the Parliamentarians. Allen was not of these; he and his family were always steadfast in their adhesion to the royal cause. He is supposed to have been the son of a merchant and shipowner of Lowestoft, Suffolk. He rendered effective service as a privateer in the North Sea, before receiving a commission in the Royal Navy.
At the Restoration, Allen was rewarded for his fidelity, by being appointed to the command of the Dover, which was one of the first of the ships commissioned by the Duke of York. In the two following years he was in succession appointed to the command of the Plymouth, the Foresight, the Lion, and the Rainbow. In 1663 he was appointed commodore and commander-in-chief of the fleet in the Downs, and was allowed the special distinction of flying the Union flag at his main-top,—the St. Andrew being his flag-ship. In August 1664 he was appointed commander-in-chief in the Mediterranean, in succession to the gallant Sir John Harman, who was ordered home. He seems to have been entrusted with diplomatic as well as naval functions, which may be inferred from Pepys recording, in his Diary, under date Nov. 28, 1664, “certain news of the peace made by Captain Allen at Tangier.” Specific instructions were given to him, however, to take in tow or destroy any Dutch men-of-war he might fall in with, and especially to capture their Smyrna fleet. He had a squadron of seven ships, which he posted so as to command the Straits of Gibraltar. His patience in waiting was not greatly strained. The Dutch Smyrna fleet—forty sail in all—hove in sight about the time expected, the escort consisting of four men-of-war. England had declared war against the Dutch States-General, and Allen attacked—it was in spring of 1665—without hesitation. The contest was obstinate; the Dutch, as usual, brought the stoutest of their merchant ships into the line of battle. Brackel, the Dutch commodore, was killed; the line was broken; several of the Dutch ships were sunk, and four of the richest were captured, but one of these was so much damaged in action that it foundered on the passage to England. Its cargo was valued at more than £150,000. A portion of the Dutch fleet took shelter in Cadiz, where they were blockaded by Allen, until the state of his supplies compelled his return to England, when the Dutchmen were allowed to come out. This important victory was not gained without loss on the part of the English, including two ships, the Phœnix and the Nonsuch, which were so much damaged as to become unmanageable; other two, the Advice and the Antelope, were also much injured. The Dutch men-of-war did a great deal of firing at comparatively long range; Allen did not fire a shot, until the antagonists were within pistol shot. The Dutch commodore, Brackel, was killed in the action. The fight was close in shore, and was watched by crowds of Spaniards, who, it is stated, laughed to see the alacrity with which the Dutch made for refuge. On his return to England, Allen was made admiral of the blue, and had also a special commission to act as vice-admiral of the fleet, then under the command of the Earl of Sandwich. On the 24th June 1665, the honour of knighthood was conferred upon him. In the following year he was appointed admiral of the white, and hoisted his flag on board the Royal James, which Prince Rupert made his flag-ship,—Allen remaining on board, however, as captain of the fleet. The prince, with a squadron, proceeded down the Channel on the lookout for a French naval force, which was expected to join the Dutch. Prince Rupert, in conjunction with Monk, Duke of Albemarle, commanded the Channel fleet. While Prince Rupert, with Sir Thomas Allen, were thus looking out for the expected hostile French fleet, Albemarle, greatly out-numbered,—sixty sail against ninety-one,—was engaged with the splendid Dutch fleet, commanded by the three famous admirals, De Ruyter, Evertsen, and Van Tromp. The fight had lasted for three days, and would probably have resulted in the defeat of Albemarle, but for the timely arrival, 4th June, of Allen’s white squadron, which compelled the Dutch to withdraw. On the 25th July the hostile fleets again met, both eager to renew hostilities. Sir Thomas Allen had the post of honour. He led the van, and commenced the battle by a furious attack on Admiral Evertsen, who commanded the Friesland and Zealand squadrons. The carnage was awful, and the Dutch loss crushing. Evertsen, chief in command of the combined squadrons, was killed, as were also his vice-admiral, De Vries, and his rear-admiral, Koenders. The Tolen, commanded by Vice-Admiral Banckart, was taken and burned, with another large man-of-war. The defeat of the Dutch was decisive. Their fugitive ships were pursued to the shores of Holland. There was great rejoicing in London on receipt of the news of the victory. On the 29th July the following notice was read from the pulpit at Bow: “The Dutch have been totally routed; fourteen ships taken, twenty-six burnt and sunk, two flag-ships taken, and with them, twelve hundred men,—six thousand men taken in all. Our ships have blocked up the Zealanders in Flushing, and ride before them top and top-gallant. The Dutch fleet are got into the Texel, and we ride before the same. The Lord Mayor ordered thanks—to be given this forenoon throughout the city.” On the 18th September a valuable prize fell into Allen’s hands in the Channel—a French ship, quite new, and considered the finest in the French navy, the Ruby, of fifty-four guns. De la Roche, commander, mistook Allen’s white squadron for a squadron of the French navy, and was captured before he could make more than a faint show of resistance.
