With Cochrane the Dauntless

by G. A. Henty

“The Kangaroo’s boats and ours were now lowered, and made for the remaining merchantmen. Four of them cut their cables and ran ashore, where they were under the protection of a large body of troops on the beach. We could soon have driven these off had we had any ammunition left, but as it was, we were obliged to content ourselves with the capture of the other three ships. On our return to Port Mahon, after this really successful action, we found to our disgust that instead of the Gamo being purchased as usual by government, she had been sold for a mere song to the Algerines, thereby depriving us of the prize-money we had expected to get for her. Cochrane was especially enraged, for had the Gamo been purchased, we could have been transferred to her from the Speedy, and would have been in a position to do very much more than in that wretched little craft. It was, however, but a piece of the treatment that we had been receiving. The extraordinary number of prizes we had taken excited the jealousy of the senior officers on the station, for indeed we had captured more than all the other cruisers together; and the result was that our prizes were all sold for anything they would fetch, and owing to the ridiculous sums for which they [pg 141]were given away, and the rascality of the prize agents, we did not receive a tithe of the prize-money that should have come to us.

“This ill-will resulted in bringing our career to an end. On our return to Port Mahon we were ordered to escort an extremely slow old mail-packet to Gibraltar. What rendered it more ridiculous was that we were to carry the mail-bags, and only to hand them over to the old tub on her arrival at Gibraltar and were then to return without communication with the shore. It was supposed that while engaged on this duty we should at least be able to take no further prizes, but we were so much faster than our convoy that while she crawled along we were able to run in and explore bays and creeks. In one several merchantmen were lying. As we bore in towards them they weighed their anchors and ran ashore. As soon as it was dark we sent our boats in and set fire to them, and as one was laden with oil it made a blaze that could be seen fifty miles away. Unfortunately three French line-of-battle ships were within that circle—the Indomptable, the Dessaix, and the Formidable—and they ran in to ascertain the cause of the fire. At daybreak we made out three large ships in the distance, and imagining they were Spanish galleons on their way home from South America, at once prepared to chase them. As the light broadened out we saw our mistake, and made them out to be line-of-battle ships. They at once crowded all sail and bore down towards us.

“’I fear this time, Embleton,’ Cochrane said to me, ‘it is all up with us. We will do our best to get away, but the chances are small. There is one good thing, they are flying the French flag, and we may expect vastly better treatment at their hands than we should get from the Spaniards, who would as likely as not refuse to acknowledge a surrender, and sink us without mercy.’ We got every stitch of sail on her, and as [pg 142]the wind was very light, put out our sweeps. The Frenchmen, however, had more wind than we had, and gained on us fast. We threw our fourteen pop-guns overboard to lighten her, for even Cochrane felt that it was useless to think of fighting now. The three vessels separated so as to ensure that we should not slip past them, and the Dessaix, which was nearest to us, began firing broadside after broadside each time she tacked, keeping her bow-chasers going all the time, and cutting up our rigging. For three hours this continued. We threw over all the ammunition and stores, but slowly and gradually the Dessaix crept up to us. Just as she was abeam Cochrane put the helm hard down, and we spun round to make a desperate attempt to run between the enemy. We were received with a broadside from the Formidable, and the Dessaix immediately tacked in pursuit.

“In less than an hour she came up within musket-shot, and yawing to bring all her guns to bear, poured in a broadside that I thought would have annihilated us. Fortunately she had answered her helm so quickly that as she came round her guns bore ahead of us, and the round shot struck the water under our bows. The grape, however, cut up the rigging, riddled the sails, and damaged the masts, and as the next broadside would assuredly have sunk us, Cochrane ordered the flag to be hauled down. Nothing could have been kinder than our treatment. The captain declined to accept Cochrane’s sword, begging him to continue to wear it though a prisoner. In our thirteen months’ cruise we had taken or retaken upwards of fifty vessels, one hundred and twenty-two guns, and five hundred and thirty-four prisoners. After our capture the French line-of-battle ships took us and our lubberly convoy into Algeciras. It was trying to be lying there almost within range of the guns of Gibraltar. Two or three days later Sir James Saumarez sailed in with a powerful squadron. [pg 143]The French at once put out boats, carried anchors ashore, and warped in until they grounded, so as to prevent being attacked on both sides. The tide brought the British ships so fast up the bay that in the hurry of the work the French ships still lay head to shore, and were therefore helpless to offer any defence to the expected attack. The greater part of the French sailors were at once sent ashore to the powerful Spanish batteries there, and a very effective fire was opened upon the British ships. Nothing, however, could have prevented the capture of the French vessels had there been any wind.

“There was, however, scarce a breath on the water, and the British, being unwilling to anchor under the heavy fire of the batteries, were swept past by the strong current. Their fire, however, severely damaged the ships of war, and sunk several gun-boats. The Hannibal alone managed to tack and made inshore, thinking to place herself inside the Frenchmen, not knowing that they were aground. In so doing she ran ashore, and was there exposed to the broadsides of the French ships and the fire of the batteries and gun-boats. Captain Ferris, who commanded her, continued to reply to their fire until most of his guns were dismounted, and a third of his crew killed or wounded; then, seeing that the efforts of the rest of the squadron to come back to his assistance were vain, he was forced to haul down his flag. The next day a boat with a flag of truce came across from Gibraltar, with propositions for the release of the crews of the Hannibal and Speedy. There was no regular system of exchange at that time, but as the French did not know what to do with their prisoners, we were all released on giving our parole not to serve again until French prisoners of our own rank were given in exchange for us. This was done a few days afterwards.

“Three days later the Spanish admiral at Cadiz arrived with six ships of the line, several frigates and gun-boats, and the [pg 144]French men-of-war having been warped off the ground and their damages repaired, the whole sailed away six days after the action, followed by the British squadron, which came up to them at dusk. As soon as it became quite dark, Captain Keith in the Superb dashed in between the two sternmost ships—two Spanish men-of-war—each mounting a hundred and twelve guns, poured a broadside into each of them and then shot ahead, and presently engaged a third Spanish man-of-war, the San Antonio. In the darkness, aided by the smoke of the Superb’s guns, she was not seen at all by either of the two Spanish ships between which she had passed, and each concluded that the other was an enemy, and a furious cannonade commenced between them. One of them lost her foretop-mast, the sails of which, falling over her own guns, caught fire; the other, still supposing her to be an enemy, poured broadside after broadside into her, and then approached to board. In the confusion the yards of the two vessels became entangled together, and the second ship also caught fire. Both ships burned until they blew up, nearly all on board perishing, the few survivors being picked up by the boats of the Superb, which was at the time engaged in taking possession of the third Spanish ship-of-war, which had struck to her. The officers and men of this ship were released in exchange for those of the Hannibal and Speedy. We were therefore free to serve again, but were all sent back to England and put on half-pay, and peace having soon after been patched up I remained without a chance of employment.

“Fortunately my parents at that time were alive, and I got on better than some of my comrades. Poor Parker was especially badly treated by the authorities. Cochrane in vain attacked the admiralty, but the hostility to him extended to his officers. He himself had a serious grievance, for the long delay before he had obtained his promotion caused several junior officers to pass over his head, but annoying as this [pg 145]was it affected him less than the cruel treatment of Parker. Some years passed before that officer obtained his promotion. Despairing of getting it, he took a little farm, married, and settled there with his family. Cochrane persevered so strenuously on his behalf that at last he was made commander, and was ordered to join the Rainbow sloop in the West Indies. He sold off everything, even his house and furniture, in order to enable him to obtain his outfit, and proceeded to take up his command. On arriving at Barbadoes he reported himself to the admiral, who knew nothing about the Rainbow, but supposed that she might be some newly-purchased craft fitting out at the Bermudas. Parker went there, but could hear nothing of her, and then returned to Barbadoes, when it became evident that no such vessel was in existence.

“He returned to England a ruined man. He had expended his whole capital, amounting to upwards of a thousand pounds, in settling his family during his absence, and in providing for his outfit and voyage. The first lord of the admiralty expressed polite surprise that such a mistake should have occurred, and promised compensation for his loss and another command on the first opportunity. Neither promise was kept, and Parker’s spirit and health gave way under his misfortunes, and he sank into the grave. Cochrane, finding that he too had small chance of employment, went up to Edinburgh and worked hard at the university there until war broke out again in 1803, when he applied for a ship, and obtained, after a threat to retire altogether from the service, the command of an old brig. That was one of the many old craft purchased from men of influence in exchange for their votes.

“She had been used as a collier, and was unable to sail against the wind. Cochrane was ordered to watch Boulogne, but in a short time he found that if a wind on-shore sprung up nothing could save the ship. He reported this to the admiral, and [pg 146]orders were then sent to him to cruise north of the Orkneys to protect the fisheries. There were no fisheries to protect, and the order was simply a sentence of exile. He remained here for nearly fifteen months, and during the whole of that time not so much as a single ship was ever seen from the masthead. He returned to England on the 1st of December, 1804, and found that Lord St. Vincent had just been compelled to retire from the admiralty. Cochrane’s claims were urged by his friends on Lord Melville, his successor, and with such force that he was transferred to the Pallas, a new thirty-two gun frigate.”