“Under these circumstances,” says James, “the defence made by the Warren Hastings, protracted as it was to four hours and a half, displayed a highly commendable zeal and perseverance on the part of Captain Larkins, his officers, and ship’s company, but with all their gallant efforts, the latter could never have succeeded in capturing—although, had the ship’s guns been in an effective state, they might, in beating off—an antagonist so well armed, manned, and appointed as the Piémontaise.”

But we have not yet concluded. The Warren Hastings being dismasted, and a heavy sea running, the ship was allowed to fall off. And as the French frigate was lying close to leeward, under three topsails, with the mizen one aback and the main one on the shake, this warship had to bear up to avoid collision with the Indiaman. The former filled her maintopsail, but as there was none left at the helm she luffed up into the wind and fouled the Warren Hastings on the latter’s port bow. You can readily imagine that with such a sea running there followed a series of sickening thuds as these two heavy ships banged against each other’s sides. But the situation was now suitable for boarding tactics, and the Frenchmen, led by the first lieutenant, poured aboard the merchant ship. But they came not as conquerors, but as assassins, with uplifted daggers and threatening the lives of all.

One of these villains dragged the English captain about the ship, accusing him of an attempt to run the frigate down in order to cripple her masts. The first lieutenant also stabbed the captain on the right side. It was a brutal affray, which cannot be said to redound to the credit of any naval officer. Captain Larkins, brave man though he was, soon fainted through loss of blood, and was then ordered on board the frigate. It should be added that the first lieutenant and many of his men were highly intoxicated at the time and so cannot be held fully responsible for their base treatment of their victims. The second officer, the surgeon and the boatswain’s mate were also stabbed, and a midshipman was pierced in seven different places by the first lieutenant. The ship was afterwards pillaged by this drunken gang, but after such excesses had been allowed to have their way the French captain did his best to make the survivors comfortable. The Piémontaise then steered for the Isle of France, taking her fine prize in tow, one of the handsomest vessels which the Honourable East India Company ever possessed. Captor and captive arrived at the Isle of France on the 4th of July, and a strange sight these two must have made as they proceeded. The reader may have marvelled that the Piémontaise had been able to overhaul the Warren Hastings so quickly and to manœuvre so easily when she kept returning to make one attack after another. But these French frigates were splendid craft and wonderfully fast, for although the East Indiamen were built on frigate lines more or less, yet they were modified to allow of a large cargo being carried, and this of course could be done only by sacrificing speed possibility. Some idea of the pace which these French frigates could reach may be gathered from the statement that the Piémontaise, in a moderate breeze, carrying three single-reefed topsails, foresail and mizen staysail, was able to tow her prize, a deeply laden ship of bigger tonnage than herself, having very small jury-sail set, at the rate of seven and a half knots an hour.

This fight and capture show the kind of adventure that was always imminent during a great portion of the East Indiaman period. It is almost difficult for us who travel with safety and punctuality in modern steamship liners to realise the uncertainty, the danger and anxieties with which the old merchant ships to the East proceeded on their way. There was not a species of disaster peculiar to maritime travel that was not ready to bring the career of such fine ships to a speedy end. Every conceivable kind of enemy seemed to be lying in wait for these craft: and the wonder really is, not that they were so often lost, but that they got to port. Knowing, as we do, something of the characters of the commanders who took these East Indiamen over the ocean, we need not be altogether surprised that their sagacity, their determination, leadership, seamanship and ability as navigators and tacticians when tested did so much for the honour of their service and for the safety of the ships and cargoes which the Company entrusted to their care. They were men of whom the Company and the country had every right to be proud.

CHAPTER XXII
PIRATES AND FRENCH FRIGATES

Another pirate who was a thorn in the flesh to the East Indiamen was a man named Jean Lafitte, who was born at St Malo. This man was no stranger to the Eastern seas. He had been appointed mate of a French East Indiaman which was bound from Europe to Madras. But on the way out the ship encountered bad weather off the Cape of Good Hope, by which she was so damaged that the captain determined to call at Mauritius: and a quarrel having sprung up between Lafitte and the captain, the former decided to quit the ship at the island. Now there were several privateers or pirates fitting out at this island, and before long Lafitte became captain of one of these vessels.

For a time he cruised about the seas robbing whatsoever ships he could, but was eventually chased by an English frigate as far north as the Equator: and from there he later on came south and proceeded to the Bay of Bengal to obtain provisions. His ship was of 200 tons, with only two guns and twenty-six men. This should be noted, because it shows how much inferior as a fighting unit she was to any Indiaman. Nevertheless whilst off the Bengal coast he fell in with the East Indiaman Pagoda, which was armed with twenty-six 12-pounders and had a crew of a hundred and fifty men. With this disparity in strength it was obvious that Lafitte could only hope for victory by employing artifice. So he manœuvred as if he were a pilot for the Ganges ready at his station cruising about. The Pagoda came along and was quite taken in by this trickery, and, to cut the story short, when it was all too late to get out of the trap, the East Indiaman found Lafitte’s ship alongside, and the pirate, together with his men, suddenly leapt on board the merchant ship, overcame every opposition and very speedily captured the ship. And it was this same pirate who at a later date became skipper of that notorious Confiance of which we have had need to speak in this volume.

We pass over the intervening period until we come to the year 1807, when we find Lafitte during the month of October still on the prowl. Off the Sand Heads he fell in with the East Indiaman Queen, a vessel of about 800 tons, a crew of nearly four hundred, and carrying forty guns. She was such a fine ship that this Frenchman determined to become her owner. Compared with the pirate the Queen, with her tall masts and high freeboard, her guns and crew, seemed absurdly superior to the smaller vessel. But Lafitte was as plucky as he was adventurous, and this apparent inequality only added zest to his plans. As the two ships were getting nearer and nearer, he exhorted his men with that wild, almost fanatical enthusiasm which was usually an electrifying force to a band of desperadoes, and then having manœuvred his ship with no little cleverness, brought her alongside the Indiaman. Just as he did this the English vessel greeted him with a broadside, but the Frenchman was expecting this, and ordered his men to lie flat on the deck. And when the first fire had been made, the pirates all got up again, and from the yards and tops hurled down bombs and grenades into the Indiaman’s forecastle.