The Breton town of St. Malo stands on the northern coast of the Duchy towards the eastern end, and close to Normandy. It is on the eastern end and at the mouth of the Rance. At that time it was still an island, not yet turned into a peninsula by a causeway. It was surrounded by ancient mediæval walls of less extent than the present fortifications. The population were seamen, traders in peace, corsairs in war. There were local leaders, burgesses not counted as nobles, but in the odd old French phrase “living nobly” as merchants and shipowners, not by retail trade, nor manual labour. The approach to the Rance is dangerous, through reefs and over a bar, but there is good anchorage inside. The privateers of St. Malo had been recognised as a useful force, and their organisation had been controlled by the crown since the fifteenth century. It had been finally fixed by Colbert. The captains sailed with a recognised commission and large powers, extending even to life and death, for the maintenance of discipline. The crews were recruited by free enlistment, and received wages, which might go to fifteen crowns for the course or cruise of four months. Custom, embodied in royal ordinances, regulated the division of the prize. After payment of legal expenses, and of ten per cent. to the Admiralty of Brittany (a separate office from the Admiralty of France), two-thirds belonged to the owner, and the remaining third was divided among the officers on a fixed scale, while the men were rewarded at discretion by gifts in addition to their wages. When the king lent the ship he took a fifth of the prize, after the deduction of legal expenses, and admiral’s fees. The adventurers who helped to fit the vessel out, with their officers and the crew, divided the remainder.

Among the armateurs, merchants, and shipowners of St. Malo “living nobly,” the family of Trouin had a conspicuous place. Luc Trouin de la Barbinais, father of the corsair, had himself served against the Dutch and Spaniards. Réné, who afterwards added Duguay to his name to distinguish himself from his elder brother, was a younger son of a large household. His parents had intended him for a priest, and he had some schooling from the Jesuits at Rouen. But he was not made for the church. When the war opened in 1689 he was seventeen years old, and his family allowed him to follow his natural bent. He began his career as a volunteer in one of the ships of the firm. These were light craft, provided with guns, but relying mainly on their large crews. It was not their interest to destroy their prize, so whether she was a small warship (a large one they would naturally avoid) or a merchant vessel, their method was always the same, namely, to run alongside, or to run the bowsprit over the waist of their opponent, and to carry her at a rush. A very short apprenticeship was considered enough for one of the owners’ family. In his second year the young Réné was already in command of a light cruiser. In 1692 he captured an English convoy. In 1693 he cruised at the mouth of the Channel in the Hercule, 30, and took two rich English prizes. In 1694 he commanded the Diligente, 36, and after some success was captured by an English squadron. He was carried as prisoner to Plymouth, but escaped by the help of a pretty shop girl who had a lover among the gaolers. At that time he was in peril of severe treatment, for he had broken the laws of war, out of bravado, by firing a derisive shot at a heavy English vessel before hoisting his own flag and sailing off. After his escape his brother gave him the Francois, 48. In this vessel he took part in the capture of an English convoy protected by two men-of-war, the Sanspareil and the Boston. Here we have to note that a change—a very significant change—came over the corsair war about this time.

In the first three years of the war the privateers cruised alone, picking up what straggling merchant ships they met. But the allies answered by sending their trade under protection of warships in convoys. It therefore became necessary to make the attack with forces capable of overcoming the guard. So the corsairs began to cruise in well-appointed squadrons of four, six, or ten ships, in part commonly supplied by the king. These forces flew at far higher game than the straggling merchant ship. Their course was identical with that following in the ensuing century by Hawke, when he assailed Desherbiers de l’Etenduère, namely, to fall upon the warships first. When the French were in sufficient numbers both to throw a superior force on the men-of-war, and to spare vessels to capture the merchant ships at once, they did so; when this was not the case they disposed of the armed guard. They made no attempt to form a precise order themselves, but swept down on the guardships of the convoy, attacking always by two or more against one, and overpowering their enemy in detail. The protecting English and Dutch ships made many gallant fights, but they showed little readiness to meet attack by counter-attack. It was their custom to form a line and wait to be assailed. This passive attitude left the Frenchman free to make his arrangements as he pleased. Duguay-Trouin, and his colleagues, still relied much upon large crews, and upon boarding. Yet an alert, well-handled ship could often avoid being grappled. For instance, we often hear how a French corsair swept down on the side of some Englishman or Dutchman, but failed to grapple because the wary opponent had “thrown all aback,” that is to say, had pulled the yards round so as to present the front of the sails to the wind. This would stop his motion, and begin to make him move backwards. If now the attacking ship, which by the necessity of the case would be going with the impetus of high speed, ranged up alongside she might miss her aim, or the large iron hooks called grappling-irons, which she threw out to take hold of her prey, might not get fixed; or again they might, but the ropes to which they are fastened broke under the strain of the diverging masses. Then the assailant would shoot ahead, and the vessel attacked would have a chance to cross her path, and sweep her with a broadside. In order to have something more than the boarders to rely on, the corsairs increased the size of their vessels and broadsides, till they sailed with ships of fifty-six guns. Still the favourite method of the corsairs was to rush to close quarters, on both sides at once when they could, and throw an irresistible force of boarders on the enemy’s deck.

Many hot fights of this kind took place in both divisions of the war. One of the most desperate was fought in 1697 between Duguay-Trouin and the Dutch Bilbao convoy under Baron Wassenaer. The years from 1693 to 1697 were, on the whole, at least in so far as we were concerned, the most profitable to the corsairs. Our navy was still staggering from the administrative vices of King Charles’s reign, and the Government was hampered by financial embarrassments. The merchants complained that the protection was insufficient, and was supplied late, so that they lost the season, and the market, and were put to heavy expense while waiting for their guard. Officials replied that they did what they could, and accused the merchant captains of bringing misfortunes on themselves by leaving the protection of the warships, to hurry on as they neared home. There was truth on both sides. It is certain that merchant skippers both then, and for long afterwards, were often tempted to run risks by the hope of getting in early, and well ahead of competitors in the market. Yet the constant successes of the privateers show that the navy was not well handled.

We renewed the war in more favourable conditions, and with a better experience. On the whole, the corsairs had far less success. Nevertheless, even in this period, Duguay-Trouin hit us some shrewd blows. In 1705 he took a large English man-of-war, the Elisabeth. In 1707 he sailed in combination with Forbin, at the head of a squadron of twelve vessels. Their orders were to intercept a convoy of military stores which the English Government was sending to Spain under the protection of three large men-of-war, the Devonshire, 80, the Cumberland, 80, and the Royal Oak, 74, with the Chester and the Ruby of 50 guns. It was met, and scattered off the Lizard on the 10th October after very hard fighting. The English captains fought most bravely, but no more can be said in their favour. Though our squadron was outnumbered it contained three vessels far superior in strength to any among the French. Moreover, they were divided when the action was begun by Duguay-Trouin who rushed straight at us. Yet Captain Richard Edwards who commanded did not attempt to do more than present a defensive barrier between the merchant ships and the oncoming French, who were thus able to concentrate as they pleased, and crush him in detail. As a captain he did his duty manfully, fighting his ship, the Cumberland, till she was dismasted, and unable to resist further. The Chester and Ruby were also taken. The Devonshire fought till evening, when she blew up with the loss of all her crew, except three, and of three hundred soldiers she was carrying out to Spain. While this fierce conflict was in progress, the transports and merchant ships made their escape, and most of them reached Lisbon.

Here we might leave Duguay-Trouin, for his later services did not greatly concern us. Yet it belongs to our story to record that in the following year he cruised with ten ships, hired by, or belonging to, himself and his brothers. No prize was met, and the expense of keeping so many vessels at sea to no purpose nearly brought the house of Trouin to ruin. This fact in his career supplies an opportunity for summing up the corsair war. It brought him, we see, fame but not profit, and it may be added that this is what it did for France. Looking at it as a whole we note that it gives no support to the often-renewed contention, that attacks by cruisers on sea-borne trade can of themselves bring a maritime power to submission. The work, often tried, has never been better done, and we may feel sure never will be better done than by Duguay-Trouin, and the men he represents here. Yet we see that it did not stop the march of the Grand Fleets of the allies for a day, nor did it ever dam up the main stream of their commerce. Again, the achievements of this famous corsair do by no means prove that single ships, however swift, can destroy commerce. It was while trying to prey on our shipping single-handed that Duguay-Trouin became a prisoner at Plymouth. Precisely the same experience befell Jean Bart, and Forbin at Portsmouth. Their successes were gained in well-appointed squadrons able to meet the shock of battle. The moral of the story is that a maritime power can always defeat the attacks of single ships on its trade by giving convoy. The protecting squadron can only be overpowered by a force like itself, and we come at once to operations of war far beyond the power of the mere corsair or commerce destroyer who relies on his speed only. Success in these operations must finally fall to whichever side possesses the most numerous, and the best-appointed squadrons.


CHAPTER III
THE MEN AND THE LIFE

Authorities.—This chapter has been founded mainly on: Rooke’s Journal, published for the Navy Records Society; the Minutes of the Court-Martial on Stucley and Brookes of the Milford; Lillingston’s Reflections on Mr. Burchett’s Memoirs, and Burchett’s Justification of his Naval Memoirs, published separately, but sometimes found together; Maydman’s Naval Politics; and William Hodge’s An Humble Supplication of the Seamen’s Misery.