Another pirate who was a thorn in the flesh to the East Indiamen was a man named Jean Lafitte, who was born at St Malo. This man was no stranger to the Eastern seas. He had been appointed mate of a French East Indiaman which was bound from Europe to Madras. But on the way out the ship encountered bad weather off the Cape of Good Hope, by which she was so damaged that the captain determined to call at Mauritius: and a quarrel having sprung up between Lafitte and the captain, the former decided to quit the ship at the island. Now there were several privateers or pirates fitting out at this island, and before long Lafitte became captain of one of these vessels.

For a time he cruised about the seas robbing whatsoever ships he could, but was eventually chased by an English frigate as far north as the Equator: and from there he later on came south and proceeded to the Bay of Bengal to obtain provisions. His ship was of 200 tons, with only two guns and twenty-six men. This should be noted, because it shows how much inferior as a fighting unit she was to any Indiaman. Nevertheless whilst off the Bengal coast he fell in with the East Indiaman Pagoda, which was armed with twenty-six 12-pounders and had a crew of a hundred and fifty men. With this disparity in strength it was obvious that Lafitte could only hope for victory by employing artifice. So he manoeuvred as if he were a pilot for the Ganges ready at his station cruising about. The Pagoda came along and was quite taken in by this trickery, and, to cut the story short, when it was all too late to get out of the trap, the East Indiaman found Lafitte’s ship alongside, and the pirate, together with his men, suddenly leapt on board the merchant ship, overcame every opposition and very speedily captured the ship. And it was this same pirate who at a later date became skipper of that notorious Confiance of which we have had need to speak in this volume.

We pass over the intervening period until we come to the year 1807, when we find Lafitte during the month of October still on the prowl. Off the Sand Heads he fell in with the East Indiaman Queen, a vessel of about 800 tons, a crew of nearly four hundred, and carrying forty guns. She was such a fine ship that this Frenchman determined to become her owner. Compared with the pirate the Queen, with her tall masts and high freeboard, her guns and crew, seemed absurdly superior to the smaller vessel. But Lafitte was as plucky as he was adventurous, and this apparent inequality only added zest to his plans. As the two ships were getting nearer and nearer, he exhorted his men with that wild, almost fanatical enthusiasm which was usually an electrifying force to a band of desperadoes, and then having manoeuvred his ship with no little cleverness, brought her alongside the Indiaman. Just as he did this the English vessel greeted him with a broadside, but the Frenchman was expecting this, and ordered his men to lie flat on the deck. And when the first fire had been made, the pirates all got up again, and from the yards and tops hurled down bombs and grenades into the Indiaman’s forecastle.

These tactics entirely surprised the Queen’s captain, and great havoc was wrought. Lafitte realising the amount of consternation which had now been caused sent aboard the Queen forty of his men with pistols in their hands and daggers between their teeth, and as soon as their feet touched the Indiaman’s deck they drove the terrified and astonished crowd into the steerage, where the latter endeavoured to defend themselves as best they could. Lafitte now reinforced his forty men with another division, and himself went as their leader, and the result was that the Queen’s captain was killed and the rest of the survivors were swept into one terror-stricken crowd. He then caused a gun to be loaded with grape and pointed to the place where the crowd were gathered, and threatened to blow them into eternity. Upon this the English determined that further opposition was useless, and surrendered. Lafitte therefore ceased his bloody slaughter, and became possessor of the ship. The incident, when the news reached India, caused a deep sensation, and the name of this scoundrel was spoken of with horror. But as East Indiamen now began to traverse the Indian Ocean only under powerful convoys, Lafitte found his opportunities very few and rare, so he betook himself to other waters, to end his days with a violent death.

We come now to the year 1810. About this time the French frigates were very actively on the qui vive for our East Indiamen and other merchant ships, and the neighbourhood of Madagascar and Mauritius was popular for setting forth to lie in wait for the victims. When any prisoners were brought in here from the Company’s ships they were made to form part of the crews of these French frigates. And if any British soldiers were also found on board they were likewise destined to become part of the frigates’ complement. Some were made so to do only by vehement threats if they declined: while some others were base enough to desert the English flag.

On the 3rd of July of the year just mentioned, just as the day was dawning, the French frigates, Bellone and Minerve, and the corvette Victor, having stood leisurely up the Mozambique Channel, were about thirty-six miles off the island of Mayotta, when they were sighted by three outward-bound East Indiamen, who were steering to the north before a fresh breeze from the south-south-east. The frigates were about nine miles off to the north-north-east, close-hauled on the port tack. A signal was made by the senior officer or commodore of the British ships half-an-hour later, and the three Indiamen hauled their wind on the port tack under double-reefed topsails, courses, jib and spanker. The names of these vessels were the Ceylon (commodore’s flagship), Windham and Astell, the commodore being Captain Henry Meriton. At half-past seven the Ceylon made the private signal, as was customary. This was in accordance with the secret code provided by the Admiralty: and if the strange ships had been British naval frigates or fellow East Indiamen they would have answered in accordance with the code. Failure to reply would have indicated that they were hostile.

Inasmuch as there was no reply in this case the East Indiamen’s commodore ordered his ships to clear for action. There could be no sort of doubt now, and every minute was valuable, for the enemy was passing on the opposite tack. At half-past nine the Astell was carrying rather more sail than she could do with and made a signal to that effect: the Ceylon and Windham therefore shortened sail to keep her company. Captain Meriton now telegraphed to his two consorts the following message: “As we cannot get away, I think we had better go under easy sail and bring them to action before dark.” It was the only thing to be done: otherwise the Astell might have been lost. The Windham, however, replied thus: “If we make all sail and get into smooth water under the land we can engage to more advantage.” But half-an-hour later, as the force of the wind had increased, it became necessary for the East Indiamen to heave-to and take in a third reef in their topsails. But even under this shortened canvas the ships were making heavy weather of it. As a fact, they heeled over so much that the high sea that was running made it quite impossible for the lower-deck ports on the lee side to be kept open.

James, with his characteristic love of detail, has given full particulars of this incident, and we can well watch with him what followed. At 11.30 A.M. the Minerve tacked in the wake of the Indiamen and at about six miles away. Soon afterwards the Bellone and the Victor also went about. When Captain Meriton had watched these tactics and observed the Minerve coming up at a great rate astern he made the following signal: “Form line abreast, to bear on ships together, Ceylon in the centre.” So the Windham, Ceylon and Astell formed a close line in the order named and awaited the oncoming of the enemy, and the Victor and Minerve were approaching rapidly on the starboard quarter, which was also the weather side.

Presently the Minerve arrived abreast of the British centre, the Victor being ahead. Up went French colours, a shot was fired at the Windham and then a whole broadside was fired into the Ceylon, which was so close astern of her consort as almost to touch her. The Astell, however, was a long way to leeward and astern of the Ceylon. When the corvette opened fire the action became general between the Minerve and Victor of the one side and the Windham, Ceylon and Astell on the other. But inasmuch as the Ceylon, by reason of her situation, was just abeam of the frigate, this Indiaman received a pretty hot time. After a little while the corvette found the fire of the British too warm, so bore up and passed to leeward of the Astell, and the captain of the latter becoming wounded severely, the chief mate had to take command. It is quite certain that an officer of a modern steamship liner is a much abler navigator than those who served in the old East Indiamen. But it is unquestionable that even if he were a Royal Naval Reserve officer, and had served for a year in his Majesty’s fleet, he would not be such a master of tactics as his forefathers who served in the “John” Company. I have not the slightest doubt in asserting that if a European war broke out to-morrow every officer in the British mercantile marine would render an excellent account of himself for resource and bravery. Recent disasters and rescues in mid-ocean have shown that the fine old British stuff still goes to the making of our sailors. But if their ships were attacked by cruisers the merchantman would have no opportunity for displaying fighting tactics, since there is to-day a far greater difference between the fighting qualities of a liner and a navy’s cruiser than there existed between an armed East Indiaman and a French frigate. And this even if we include the recently built Aquitania of the Cunard line, which happens to be the most heavily armed British liner which ever put to sea.

In these sea-fights, then, between the Indiamen and their foreign enemies we have a condition that is not comparable with anything to-day. It belongs to the past absolutely, and therefore the difference between the captains of yesterday and to-day is also different, and that not merely owing to the fact that one commanded a ship propelled by sails, whereas his successor handles a steamship. We cannot help admiring the many-sided ability of the East Indiamen captains. Taking them by and large, with all their defects in respect of smuggling and other delinquencies which need not be enlarged upon, they were extraordinarily successful in most complicated circumstances. It is characteristic of any kind of seaman, in whatever service he is enrolled, that he is adaptable, but could you find a greater strain imposed on any man than that which had to be borne by the commanders of the vessels whose history we are considering? As exponents of the art of pure seamanship they were never beaten, unless by their immediate successors, who made such wonderful passages during the clipper-ship era. And certainly as tacticians and fighting men they had few superiors even in the Royal Navy of that time. I feel that it is only just to emphasise these points, for with the transition from one period of the ship to another the ability of our mercantile officers has changed not in degree but in kind: and very shortly the last link—in the person of a steamship captain who formerly commanded a sailing ship—connecting the ships of yesterday with to-day will have been broken for ever. No one can fail to admire the consummate cleverness with which a modern mercantile captain brings a gigantic liner through a narrow, twisting channel in a strong tideway and berths his ship so quietly as not to break the proverbial eggshell. No one can help being struck with the scientific and practical ability by which perfect land-falls are made and punctual voyages are carried through even in thick weather. The captains of the Indiamen of yesterday were never called upon to bear the kind of responsibility which attaches to a man who has a 40,000-ton ship and 5000 lives under his care. But at the same time our modern commanders in the merchant service have never yet been called upon to think out battle tactics and manoeuvre so as to fight a superior enemy without losing one’s ship or cargo.

This was always the anxiety which an East Indiaman’s skipper had to think of. Was he justified in remaining to fight: or was his chief duty to run away? His command was not primarily a fighting ship, but a means of trade. And even if he got his ship safe in port would he incur the displeasure of the Honourable East India Company’s directors? His job was too valuable to be thrown away by an error of judgment. It would be a fine feather in his cap if he could follow the example of Commodore Dance, and he was sure to be well rewarded by his Company. To deal a smashing blow at the nation’s enemy would ensure fame for this captain to the end of his days and after. But—if he should forget that his first duty was to get the valuable cargo home he might find himself a broken man and not a hero.

Such, then, was the position of Captain Meriton in the incident we are discussing. He had to take in the situation at a glance and form a quick but not hasty judgment, and then act accordingly, flinging out his signals and disposing his squadron. At four o’clock the Minerve went ahead and then bore down as if intending to get alongside the Windham. Now this was a mode of attack which the Indiamen in the present instance had reason to fear least of all, for they chanced to have plenty of soldiery on board. The Windham therefore made sail so as to strike the French frigate on the port side at the quarter, whilst the Ceylon and Astell closed on their consort so as to assist in this manoeuvre. However, the Windham had been greatly damaged in regard to her sails and rigging, so did not possess enough way to act as she had hoped. The result was that the Minerve was able to cross her bows only a few yards away. All this time the three Indiamen had kept up an incessant and well-aimed musketry fire from their troops on board.

Just as the Minerve got out of gun-shot—that is to say, about a mile away—the Astell passed astern of the Windham and became the headmost and weathermost ship. The Windham was now the sternmost and leewardmost vessel of the three, and the Minerve, true to the best tradition of tactics employed by Nelson and other great admirals, endeavoured to cut the Windham off from the other two: but the best laid schemes of clever tacticians sometimes do not fructify: for the Minerve now lost her main and mizen topmasts, and there came a lull in the contest, though not for long. It was now six in the evening, and the Bellone, followed by the Victor, began a most destructive fire on the Windham. Taking up her position presently a little farther on, the Bellone began to attack the commodore’s ship, whilst with her foremost guns she attacked the Astell. The Victor was some distance away, and so her fire at the Windham was not so effective. Captain Meriton now endeavoured to close with the French frigate in order that he might be able to give full opportunity to the troops’ musketry, but had the misfortune to receive a severe wound in the neck from grape-shot. The command therefore fell to the chief mate, Mr T. W. Oldham. But the latter, being himself wounded not many seconds later, was obliged to yield the command to the second mate, Mr T. Fenning. By seven o’clock the poor Ceylon, which had endured much, was in a sorry plight. Her two principal officers had been wounded, her masts, rigging and sails were all damaged badly, all the guns on her upper deck had been disabled and five on the lower deck. Her hull, too, had been so badly holed that she was leaking to such an extent that she made three feet an hour. In addition, many of her people had been killed and wounded.

She therefore came out of the firing-line and passed astern of the Bellone, which was engaging the Windham all the time. And then there appears to have been some misunderstanding. The Windham hailed the Astell time after time, asking her to join in making an attempt to board the Bellone: but the Astell put out her lights, crowded on sail, and went off, receiving a heavy parting fire from the frigate. As for the Ceylon, there was nothing left for her to do but to haul down her colours, and she then had the humiliation of being taken possession of by a prize crew sent off in a boat from the Minerve. As the Ceylon passed the Windham, the former hailed the latter that she had struck. The Windham was therefore now left alone: and since she, too, was considerably damaged as to her masts and rigging, so that it was impossible to set sail, she doggedly continued the action, so that the Astell might be able to make good her escape. Nine of the Windham’s guns had been put out of action, many of her crew had been killed or wounded, so finally she too had to haul down her colours, and was taken possession of by the Bellone. Meanwhile the Victor had gone in pursuit of the Astell, but the latter was able to get right away owing to the extreme darkness of the night and the length of time which had been taken in securing the two prizes.

The result of this fight, which had lasted almost from dawn till after dark, was melancholy: but the Indiamen had fought very gallantly, and it is not always that success comes to those who seem assuredly most to deserve it. Each of these merchant ships was of 800 tons, and their armament was quite unequal to that of the French frigates, which had no cargo to carry and could mount more numerous guns. There were about two hundred and fifty troops on board each of these Indiamen, in addition to a hundred lascars, but there were only about twelve or a score of British seamen. So in respect of numbers the merchant ships were quite inferior to the trained men-of-war’s-men of the French. The Ceylon lost four seamen, one lascar and two soldiers killed. Her captain, chief mate, seven of her seamen, one lascar, one lieutenant-colonel and ten soldiers had been wounded—a pretty heavy toll to pay. The Windham had a seaman, three soldiers and two lascars killed: and seven soldiers, two lascars and three of her officers and half-a-dozen others wounded. The Astell had four seamen and the same number of soldiers killed: whilst her captain, her fifth mate, nine seamen, a lascar, five cadets and twenty soldiers were all wounded.

Everyone in these Indiamen had fought splendidly against heavy odds. The commodore had fulfilled his part as well as the difficulty of the situation allowed him. Soldier and sailor alike had done their level best. How did the East India Company eventually consider this forlorn fight? It may be said at once that, in spite of the result, the directors showed their appreciation of their servants by presenting each of these three captains with the sum of £500, whilst the rest of the officers and men were also handsomely rewarded. The captain of the Astell received a pension of £460 a year from the East India Company, whilst the officers and crew were presented with the sum of £2000 between them. It is said that one of the Astell’s seamen, a man named Andrew Peters, nailed the pennant to the maintopmast-head and was killed as he was on his way down: and the Astell’s colours were shot away no fewer than three times.

To show their appreciation of the Astell’s fine defence the Admiralty granted the ship’s company protection from impressment for three years. But even all this exhibition of approbation must have been unable to wipe out from officers and men the miserable recollection of having been compelled to yield to the nation’s deadly enemy.