THE CASE OF THE "ANTIGALLICAN"
In the year 1755 there appears to have existed a certain body which had adopted the title of "The Society of Antigallicans," having for its object the promotion of British manufactures, the extension of the commerce of England, the discouragement of French modes, and of the importation of French commodities.
War being regarded as inevitable, and the king having already issued a proclamation licensing the granting of commissions to privateers, the Antigallicans, always busy "concerting some good for the sake of the public," discussed the propriety of fitting out a vessel of this nature—an undertaking which, if successful, might obviously bring them a rich reward for their public spirit.
The scheme, proposed by one William Smith, Esq., was relished by the whole company, and the motion carried by acclamation. When the applause had subsided there rose Mr. Torrington, who informed the company present that he happened to possess at that moment a ship most admirably adapted for the purpose: being the Flamborough, formerly a man-of-war, but then in the Jamaica trade, and known as the Flying Flamborough on account of her great speed; Mr. Torrington, in his naturally enthusiastic eulogy of the ship he wished to sell, declaring that, with a fair wind and crowded canvas, she had frequently run fourteen knots—which was certainly very unusual with the short, bluff-bowed vessels of that period.
It was immediately agreed to purchase her, and she was appropriately renamed the Antigallican. She was a formidable vessel, of 440 tons, mounting 28 guns and 16 swivels, with a crew of 208 men, commanded by William Foster—a man apparently of humble birth, for he is said to have been a "cockswain" on board H.M.S. Defiance, and to have attracted notice by his brave conduct during the action between Anson and De la Jonquière on May 3rd, 1747.[9]
On July 17th, 1756, the Antigallican was ready for sea, and the owners brought down their wives and daughters and numerous friends, who were handsomely entertained on board; she had on board, we are told, "six months' provision, all of the product of Middlesex and Kent, generally supplied from the estates of the proprietors. There was not the least thing in or about her but what was entirely English"—which, of course, was only right and consistent with the principles of the Society.
Sailing on September 17th, she fell in, about a month later, with an armed French vessel, about 300 miles west of Lisbon. This ship fell an easy prey, surrendering after delivering one broadside and receiving a raking fire from the Englishman. She had on board, we are told, four English prisoners, "part of the crew taken on board the Warwick man-of-war." This ship had been captured by a French squadron on March 11th preceding. Why these four men were on board this armed merchantman does not appear, but the French captain, who was a cheerful soul, not readily cast down by adversity, had always treated them well, and, when the Antigallican hove in sight, served out a complete outfit of clothes to them. They remained on deck at work until the first shot was fired, when they were put under hatches, and the captain himself was the first to inform them of their release. Smiling upon them through the open hatchway, he said: "Come out, gentlemen; it be vel wit you, but ill wit me!"
This vessel was the Maria Theresa, 14 guns and 30 men. She was valued, with her cargo, at £23,000: so the Antigallican made a promising commencement of her cruise. The prize was sent to Portsmouth. Another, valued at £15,000, was taken into Madeira, in company with the privateer.
This was all very pleasant, and the Antigallican Society could congratulate itself upon the success of its scheme for the good of the public—and, incidentally, for the pockets of its members; and one day in December 1756 a Dutch vessel gave news of a very rich prize, the Duc de Penthièvre, a French Indiaman. "The news was communicated to the crew, who heard it joyfully and behaved with a true Antigallican spirit."
The privateer was off Corunna on the morning of December 26th, and at 6 a.m. a sail was observed standing inshore. It being almost calm, the sweeps were got out, and by noon the Antigallican was within gunshot, under Spanish colours. Upon receiving a shot she ran up English colours, and the French ship then delivered a broadside; the English captain, however, reserved his fire until he was close aboard. They fought for nearly three hours; then the Frenchman struck, and the vessel proved to be the one they were in search of, her value being placed at something like £300,000! Here was a fine haul. They made haste to get into port with her, aiming at Lisbon; but they had some characteristically rough winter weather on that coast, and, after bucketing about for over a fortnight, they ran for Cadiz, where they arrived on January 23rd, 1757. That gale proved very disastrous for the Antigallicans, for the Spaniards, green with envy over such gains, immediately set to work to show that the Duc de Penthièvre was captured in Spanish waters, i.e. within three miles of the coast.