“We cannot too highly congratulate and commend you upon the seamanship and courage which you have displayed in the capture of these French vessels. Your daring and ability should always make your name one to be revered by those Britishers who follow the sea. May your future career upon the ocean but add to the laurels which you have already won!”
And were they not right?
Seldom has such a feat been accomplished, and seldom has one vessel come off victorious against such odds. If you love a game warrior, cheer for George Walker, for he deserves it. If you are an admirer of the fighting quality in a man, give three times three for the privateersman who had the nerve to sail into eight vessels,—and won out.
So much, indeed, did the British owners of the privateer vessels think of Captain Walker, that he was now placed in command of four ships, known as “The Royal Family of Privateers,” for each was named after some member of the English royal family. These were the Princess Amelia, of twenty-four guns and one hundred and fifty men: the Prince Frederick of twenty-six guns and two hundred and sixty men: the Duke of twenty guns and two hundred and sixty men; and the King George, of thirty-two guns and three hundred men. This last boat was commanded by Walker, himself; the Duke by Edward Dottin, a staunch sailor; the Prince Frederick by Hugh Bromedge; and the Princess Amelia by Robert Denham. The entire squadron carried nearly a thousand men and one hundred and two guns, so, you see, that it could do quite a little damage to the enemies of Merrie England.
Sailing in May, 1746, the squadron soon met with hard luck, for the Prince Frederick ran upon a rock in Bristol Channel, and had to be left behind; for she was badly punctured below the water-line. The three others sailed for the coast of France, and—a week later—had a startling little adventure.
A heavy fog lay over the sobbing water, and the three English sea-robbers were gliding along within easy gun-shot of each other, when it was evident that they were near some other vessels. Voices came out of the mist, lights flashed (for it was near the close of day), and the wash of water could be heard, as the waves beat against solid oak planking.
“Egad!” whispered Captain Walker to one of his lieutenants. “Listen, my boy, and tell me whether these voices are French, Spanish, or English.”
The lieutenant held a speaking-trumpet to his ear.
The swish, swish of water came to the eager senses of the anxious privateersman. That was all!
Captain Walker passed the word around among his men to be absolutely silent, and, as he strained his hearing, in order to catch the faintest sound from the strangers, suddenly he heard the sentence,