Privateers and Privateering

by Edward Phillips Statham

The King George was of superior force to the Argo, carrying 14 guns and 80 men; but her captain apparently permitted Talbot to come to close quarters without opposition, for the writer tells us that he "steered close alongside him, pouring into his decks a whole broadside, and almost at the same instant a boarding party, which drove the crew of the King George from their quarters, and took possession of her without a man on either side being killed."

Talbot was, unquestionably, a born fighter and well versed in nautical strategy and attack; but the writer of these records strikes one as being an enthusiastic and ingenuous person, without practical knowledge of seamanship or warfare, and consequently liable to be imposed upon by any one who could not resist the temptation to tell a "good yarn." Silas Talbot may have been afflicted with this weakness, for all we know. It is a genuine American characteristic, and by no means incompatible with the highest attributes of personal courage and skill in warfare. However, there is no cause to doubt the truth of the account of the capture of the King George, for which Talbot and his men deserve credit.

The next antagonist of the Argo was the British privateer Dragon, of 300 tons, 14 guns, and 80 men—rather a small armament and crew for a vessel of that tonnage, in those days.

This was a desperate engagement, carried on for four and a half hours, at pistol-shot. The gallant Talbot had some narrow shaves, for we are told that his speaking-trumpet was pierced with shot in two places, and the skirts of his coat torn off by a cannon-shot! We cannot avoid the conclusion that the gentle narrator was, in vulgar parlance, being "had" over this story. A modern small-bore bullet, with high velocity, would probably make a clean hole through a tin speaking-trumpet, which might possibly be retained in the hand, if held very firmly, during the process. But a clumsy, slow-sailing pistol or musket ball of that period would simply double up the tin tube and send it flying; while as to the coat-tails—well, it is not stated that Captain Talbot experienced any discomfort in sitting down afterwards, or inconvenience for lack of anything to sit upon. It was a most discriminating cannon-ball!

Nearly all the men on deck—a vessel like the Argo certainly did not fight any men below—were either killed or wounded; and the Dragon, losing her mainmast, at length struck her colours.

Then came an alarm that the Argo was sinking; "but," says the gentle story-teller, "the captain gave orders to inspect the sides of the sloop, upon which he found several shot-holes between wind and water, which they plugged up." And a very good device, too, though a somewhat obvious one, to prevent a vessel from sinking!

Having refitted his ship, Talbot put out again, this time with the Saratoga, another privateer, of Providence, commanded by Captain Munroe, in company; and in due course they came across the Dublin, a very smart English privateer cutter of 14 guns, coming out of Sandy Hook. It was agreed that Talbot should first give chase, for fear the sight of two vessels bearing down upon him should make the Britisher shy: rather a transparent device, since Munroe's craft was in sight, at no great distance, the whole time. The Englishman, however, awaited the attack, and a spirited duel ensued by the space of an hour. When Munroe thought it was time for him to cut in, he found that his ship would not answer her helm. This is explained as follows: "The Saratoga was steered with a long wooden tiller on common occasions, but in time of action the wooden tiller was unshipped and put out of the way, and she was then steered with an iron one that was shipped into the rudder-head from the cabin.... The Saratoga went away with the wind at a smart rate, to the surprise of Captain Talbot, and the still greater surprise of Captain Munroe, who repeatedly called to the helmsman, 'Hard a-weather! Hard up, there!' 'It is hard up, sir!' 'You lie, you blackguard! She goes away lasking! Hard a-weather, I say, again!' 'It is hard a-weather, indeed, sir!' Captain Munroe was astonished, and could not conceive what the devil was the matter with his vessel. He took in the after-sails, and made all the head-sail in his power. All would not do—away she went! He was in the utmost vexation lest Captain Talbot should think he was running away. At last one of his under-officers suggested that possibly the iron tiller had not entered the rudder-head, which, on examination, was found to be the case. The blunder was now soon corrected, and the Saratoga was made to stand towards the enemy; and, that some satisfaction might be made for his long absence, Captain Munroe determined, as soon as he got up, to give her a whole broadside at once. He did so, and the Dublin immediately struck her colours; yet, strange to tell, it did not appear, on strict inquiry and examination afterwards, that this weight of fire, which was meant to tear the cutter in pieces, had done the vessel or crew the least additional injury."

Here is a capital yarn, for the uninitiated; but it serves to illustrate the danger of entering upon technical details without adequate understanding. It may be true enough that the tiller was not properly shipped in the first instance; but, this granted, to begin with, any sailing-vessel that is properly trimmed will, upon letting go the tiller, come up into the wind, instead of running off it. Even admitting, however, that the Saratoga was so "slack on her helm," in nautical parlance, as to "go away lasking"—i.e. almost before the wind—under such conditions, the very last order the captain would give would be "Hard up," or "Hard a-weather," which would only cause her to run away worse than ever; while taking in the after-sail and piling on head sail would aggravate the evil! If the writer had represented Captain Munroe as shouting, "Hard down! Hard a-lee, you blackguard!" hauling in his mainsheet and taking off the head-sail, one might believe that Talbot or some other sailor-man had told the story. As it stands, it is ridiculous; but it is repeated, word for word, in various accounts—among others by Mr. Maclay.

Well, the Dublin was captured, hauling down her colours after Munroe's innocuous broadside; and Talbot's next antagonist was the Betsy, an English privateer of 12 guns and 38 men, "commanded by an honest and well-informed Scotchman." After some palaver at pistol-shot, Talbot hoisted the stars and stripes, crying, "You must now haul down those British colours, my friend!" To which the Scot replied, "Notwithstanding I find you an enemy, as I suspected, yet, sir, I believe I shall let them hang a little longer, with your permission. So fire away, Flanagan!"

Had the honest Scot been of the same type of privateer captain as George Walker he would certainly have banged in his broadside before the stars and stripes were well above the rail, and perhaps altered the outcome of the action. As it was, Talbot took him, killing or wounding the captain and principal officers and several men.