CHAPTER XIII
Privateering was very much resorted to in France, from the middle of the seventeenth century onwards; it was greatly encouraged by the State, and frequently men-of-war were lent to private individuals or corporations, who maintained them at their own cost, and of course pocketed the proceeds of the prizes captured. Some of these were large and powerful vessels, mounting fifty or sixty guns, and, having been built for men-of-war, were far superior to most privateers, which were frequently merchant vessels adapted for the purpose. Their crews were very numerous, not infrequently outnumbering those of our 64-gun ships, and it was not of much use for any vessel of less force than these to tackle them.
One of these big privateers, in the year 1745, was engaged off the south coast of Ireland with the 40-gun ship Anglesea, Captain Jacob Elton, with a very sad and tragic result. The Anglesea, having put into Kinsale to land some sick—her senior lieutenant being one—sailed again on March 28th, being one of the vessels ordered to command the entrance of the channel. On the following day, with a fresh breeze blowing, a large sail was reported to windward. Captain Elton, for some reason, assumed that this was his consort, the Augusta, of 64 guns; it was just twelve o'clock, so he ordered his boatswain to pipe to dinner, making no preparation for action. The stranger came down rapidly, displaying no colours, apparently—which should have aroused Elton's suspicion—and suddenly, when he was quite near, it was realised that the ornament on her quarter was in the French style.
Then, all in a hurry, they beat to quarters, and the English captain, in order to gain time for his preparations, made more sail, setting his foresail; but the wind was strong, with a lumpy sea, and the increased pressure of sail, as the gun's crews opened the lee ports, brought tons of water in on to the lower deck, threatening to water-log the ship.
The enemy—which was the Apollon, 50 guns, fitted out as a privateer—had it all her own way. Passing under the stern of the Anglesea, she rounded to on her lee quarter, and delivered a heavy fire. The guns were not cleared away, there was a lot of water below, and in a minute or two sixty men were dead or wounded. The captain and master were killed by the first broadside, and the command of the ship thus devolved upon the second lieutenant, a young and inexperienced officer. He was in a very tight place. The Frenchman being on the lee quarter, he could not bear up and run, as he would have fallen on board the enemy, which carried many more men, and his ship meanwhile was under a heavy fire, which could not be returned, his men falling fast. After consultation with the third lieutenant, he surrendered—and really it is difficult to see what else he could have done. Possibly an older man, of consummate skill and great experience, might have found a way of handling his ship so as, at least, to gain some respite; on the other hand, no such man would have had any business to find himself in this predicament.
So the lieutenant—Baker Phillips by name—hauled down his colours, and in due course was tried by court-martial for the loss of his ship. The court "was unanimously of opinion that Captain Elton, deceased, did not give timely directions for getting his ship clear or in a proper posture of defence, nor did he afterwards behave like an officer or a seaman, which was the cause of the ship being left to Lieutenant Phillips in such distress and confusion. And that Lieutenant Baker Phillips, late second lieutenant of the said ship, by not endeavouring to the utmost of his power after Captain Elton's death to put the ship in order of fighting, not encouraging the inferior officers and men to fight courageously, and by yielding to the enemy, falls under part of the tenth Article.[11] They do sentence him to death, to be shot by a platoon of musqueteers on the forecastle; ... but ... having regard to the distress and confusion the ship was in when he came to the command, and being a young man and inexperienced, they beg leave to recommend him to mercy."
That is to say, they felt bound, under the clause referred to in the Articles of War, to sentence him to death, but obviously hoped that the extreme penalty would not be inflicted under the circumstances—a very proper view to take. The recommendation, however, was ignored—it will be recollected that just at this period the British Navy was, for some reason, passing through a very unsatisfactory phase; courage and energy appeared often to be lacking—as in the instance of the treasure ships, in the previous year, when George Walker was compelled to witness the outrageous incapacity and supineness of the captains of the men-of-war. These men were acquitted—Lieutenant Baker Phillips was not. Perhaps it may be permitted to ask, would Captain Elton have been shot had he survived the action? His lieutenant was made an example of, and there is some story that a reprieve was refused on account of his Jacobite tendencies; no evidence appears to be forthcoming in support of this view. Another and very terrible tale in connection with the incident relates that Phillips's wife, after a reprieve had been refused, went in person to Queen Caroline and obtained one, with which she posted in feverish haste to Portsmouth; but the unhappy young officer, desiring to avoid the terrible pain of a final interview with her, had, in ignorance of her mission to the queen, requested that the hour of his execution might be hastened. When she arrived, he had already been shot. One can only hope that this story is not true; it is too terrible to dwell upon.
Well, that is how the privateer Apollon scored off us. Five-and-thirty years later, in 1780, within a mile or two of the same spot, a still more powerful vessel, similarly commissioned—to wit, the Comte d'Artois, of 64 guns—was overcome and captured by the Bienfaisant, 64 guns, captain Macbride, after a smart action of over an hour. The Bienfaisant was countenanced, more than assisted, by the presence of the Charon, 44 guns, which took little or no part in the action. The French loss was 21 killed and 34 wounded, while the British lost 3 killed and 23 wounded.