The crew had been three years in the vessel, trading in gold and diamonds, and did not even know that war had broken out.
Here was a piece of luck for Peter Baker! When the rich prize was brought into the Mersey, in charge of the proud and happy Dawson and his crew, bells were set ringing, guns were fired, and both captors and victors were entertained in sumptuous fashion by the delighted townspeople. Baker became, of course, immediately a person of importance: he was jocosely alluded to as "Lord Baker," and was later elected Mayor of Liverpool and made a county magistrate.
He proceeded to build himself a large house at Mossley Hill, outside Liverpool, which either he or some facetious friend dubbed "Carnatic Hall"; it was partially destroyed by fire later on, and rebuilt by the present owners, Holland by name.
Baker and Dawson entered into partnership as shipbuilders, and the uncouth but lucky Mentor continued her cruising, capturing two or three more prizes of trifling value. In 1782, however, while on her passage home from Jamaica, she foundered off the Banks of Newfoundland, thirty-one of her crew perishing.
Such is the story of Peter Baker's sudden rise of fortune, illustrating the extraordinary uncertainty of those privateering times. Baker had, so to speak, no business to succeed; one cannot help regarding him, in the first instance, as something of an impostor in undertaking to build a ship under the circumstances—for we may be sure that she was not rejected without good reason; but she caused all this to be forgotten by one piece of good luck. Her fortunate builder and owner died in 1796.
CAPTAIN EDWARD MOOR, OF THE "FAME"
A privateer commander of the best type was Captain Edward Moor, of the Fame, hailing from Dublin. His vessel carried 20 six-pounders and some smaller pieces, and a crew of 108 men. It was in August 1780, when he was cruising off the coast of Spain and the northern coast of Africa, that he received news of the departure of five ships from Marseilles, bound for the West Indies: all armed vessels, and provided with fighting commissions of some kind—letters of marque, as they are styled.
Being a man of good courage, and not afraid of such trifling odds as five to one, Moor went in search of these Frenchmen; and on August 25th he was lucky enough to sight them, off the coast of Spain. As dusk was approaching he refrained from any demonstration of hostility, but took care, during the night, to get inshore of the enemy.
At daybreak they were about six miles distant, and, upon seeing the Fame approach in a businesslike manner, they formed in line to receive her.
Adopting similar tactics to those of George Walker in attacking eight vessels—perhaps purposely following the example of a man who had such a great name, and whose exploits were sure to be known among privateersmen[10]—Moor bade his men lie down at their guns, and not fire until he gave the word.