Cochrane
Page 8
The French officer who acted as master of ceremonies came to the door and reached for Cochrane's collar, in order to drag him out of the ante-room. Cochrane replied with a powerful punch to the royalist's nose and an obscenity, carefully spoken in French. There was a confusion of flying fists and falling bodies, the angry young Scot felling all those who approached, until the picket-guard came running and Cochrane was carried off to the French regimental guardroom.
When his identity was discovered, the master of ceremonies demanded satisfaction for his swollen nose. The two men and their seconds met behind the island ramparts at dawn. The long-barrelled pistols were raised and the two shots rang out almost simultaneously. Cochrane felt a blow to his chest, but the bullet had been stopped by his coat and waistcoat, merely bruising him. To his horror, he saw the Frenchman stagger and fall. But, he assured Cochrane, he was "not materially hurt", merely wounded in the thigh. None the less, Cochrane was shaken by the episode and gave his word never again "to do anything in frolic which might give even unintentional offence".20
On the first anniversary of his command, he was at sea, off Barcelona. On 5 May 1801, the Speedy gave chase to Spanish gun-boats, which hastily put into Barcelona. They behaved in every way like decoys, but Cochrane was undeterred. At daylight on 6 May, he set course through the early mist for Barcelona again, only to find himself sailing straight towards a powerful frigate, as the morning cleared. He recognised the Gamo, a 32-gun Spaniard with a complement of over three hundred sailors and marines, and just four times the size of the Speedy. Cochrane's own crew was depleted by his very successes, since almost half of them had been put aboard captured vessels as prize crews in the past few weeks. He now had fifty-four men, instead of ninety, barely enough to sail the ship. To these rather startled seamen, he announced that he was going to engage the Spanish warship. All hands were piped to action and the Speedy steered towards the enemy.
In the moment before battle, each man knew his place. On the gun-deck the cannon were lined up at the ports, the row curving out slightly towards the centre. Powder-boys sat expectantly on the boxes brought from the magazine, while shot and wads were placed by each gun on its wooden trolley. Captains of the gun-crews wore priming-boxes buckled to their waists as they watched the locks fixed upon the guns and the lanyards laid around them. Officers with swords drawn stood by their divisions of men, while the last furniture from the captain's cabin and the wardroom was carried down into the hold. The entire ship might become the scene of hand-to-hand fighting and it was important that the decks should be cleared "for action". An efficient crew would clear even a battleship in five minutes or so.
As the two ships raced towards one another, Cochrane stood on the little quarterdeck with Lieutenant Parker, his brother Archibald, and as many of the crew as could be spared to carry small arms or cutlasses for the fight. There was no point in firing a broadside yet, since the shot would not carry half the distance to the Spanish ship. On the other hand, the Gamo now had the Speedy within range of her powerful guns.
The one factor in Cochrane's favour was the improbability of what he was about to do. The officers of the Gamo would never believe that anyone but a lunatic would try to attack them with a brig whose mastheads hardly reached much above their own quarterdeck. The frigate fired a shot which hissed above the Speedy’s deck and plunged into the water beyond. At the same time she ran up the Spanish colours. Cochrane watched this and then ordered his signaller to run up the American flag. The Speedy was now passing the windward side of the Gamo at 9.30 a.m., the mouths of the Spanish guns at the open ports silent but menacing. The American flag caused enough confusion and indecision among the Spanish officers to allow the brig to slip past unscathed. Then Cochrane turned his ship, came round on the leeward side of the Gamo, lowering the American flag and running up the British ensign.
Flame spouted from the Gamo's ports, followed by a rolling bank of smoke, as the first broadside roared out. The Speedy survived it, overtaking the frigate and coming in upon her fast. Cochrane ordered his men to hold their fire but to double-shot their guns. This reduced the range still further but turned a broadside into a lethal hail of small, sharp fragments of metal. The boom and billow of a second broadside from the Gamo echoed across the water but the Speedy, having got the leeward position, came through it undamaged. Lord Rodney had long since established that a ship to leeward was a difficult target, since her attacker tended to heel towards her with the wind, depressing the guns and making them liable to fire into the sea rather than into the enemy.
As the Spanish gunners reloaded, Cochrane brought the Speedy in, almost as though he were going to ram the frigate, and there was a crash as the little brig's masts locked with the lower rigging of the Gamo. The frigate's guns roared out again, but the cannon balls passed over the heads of Cochrane and his crew, tearing their sails and splintering some of the spars but unable to touch the hull. He ordered the Speedy's own 4-pounders to be angled upwards and fired. The result was devastating. The shot came ripping upwards through the Gamo's gun-deck, causing appalling casualties among the gun crews and killing both the captain and the bosun. The bizarre and gruesome contest lasted for about an hour in this form. On three occasions, the Spanish marines from the Gamo tried to board the Speedy. Each time, Cochrane let them muster on the edge of the frigate's deck, and then swung his own ship away, opening up a watery gap and leaving them immobilised. Before they could withdraw, the musket-fire and shot from the brig cut through their ranks. Improbable as it might seem, he had fought the heavily-armed Spanish frigate to a standstill. "From the height of the frigate out of the water," he noted, "the whole of her shot must necessarily go over our heads, whilst our guns, being elevated, would blow up her main-deck." He had, of course, no intention of settling for less than total victory. His two killed and four wounded left him with forty-eight men against three hundred Spaniards. As he wrote in his despatch, "The great disparity of force rendering it necessary to adopt some measure that might prove decisive, I resolved to board." He informed his men of this, adding that they must "either take the frigate or be themselves taken, in which case the Spaniards would give no quarter". By this time, however, his men were flushed with enthusiasm at what they had achieved so far. In the words of one witness, they shouted that they would follow Cochrane to hell itself, if that was where he proposed to lead them.
Leaving Surgeon Guthrie at the wheel, he sent half his men with blackened faces to climb stealthily up the Gamo's bows, hidden from view by the curve of the hull. Cochrane himself led the remaining score of men amidships, scaling the frigate's side and bursting on to the deck. In the confusion of smoke and musket-fire, one seaman fell dead at the rail, and Lieutenant Parker struggled on, wounded through chest and thigh. Cochrane's tall figure and red hair under a cocked hat was an unmistakable rallying point, as he watched the careful working out of his plan. The "cool determined conduct" of his men with fist and cutlass amidships had already engaged the attention of the Spaniards when the first black-faced devils came leaping and shrieking from the bows. Caught on both sides, the defence began to fall into confusion.
It was hard for the Spanish to use their full weight in such a skirmish on the crowded deck. Equally, it was unthinkable that forty-eight men should defeat three hundred. Cochrane, driven back to the rail, roared down to Guthrie, the only man left on the Speedy, since someone had to hold the wheel. The words were clearly heard by the Spaniards as he ordered the next wave of attackers to be sent across. Guthrie concealed his surprise and acknowledged the command. The men of the Gamo began to recoil from the apparent trap of an innocent brig crammed with Royal Marines. The heart seemed to go out of the Spanish resistance. Their captain and bosun were dead and over fifty more men had been killed or wounded in the carnage of the gun-deck as the Speedy's broadsides tore upwards through the planking. The men who had followed Cochrane aboard looked and fought like devils with cutlass and small arms. Leaderless and bemused, the superior Spanish force began to e
dge towards the stern of the Gamo. As they did so, there was a pause and the eyes of men on both sides turned to the mast. The Spanish colours had been struck, the flag coming slowly down. There was no longer even a pretext for resistance as the Gamo surrendered to the little brig alongside her. In fact it was one of the British seamen who, on Cochrane's orders, had slipped through the skirmish and lowered the Spanish flag.
The Gamo should have been able to blow the Speedy out of the water before the British ship came near enough to fire a shot. The Spanish troops should have been able to overwhelm the depleted crew of the brig as soon as she came alongside. A man who was so foolish as to lead forty-eight seamen on board an enemy ship with a crew of more than three hundred ought to have found himself and his men prisoners within a few minutes. As it was, Cochrane's main problem was how to cope with a prize of such magnitude. It was almost necessary to abandon the Speedy, since thirty of her crew were
needed to get the Gamo to Port Mahon, leaving hardly more than a dozen men to manage the brig. The Spanish seamen and crew were bundled into the frigate's hold, 263 still unwounded. Realising the puny power which had defeated them, it seemed as though they might try to overpower the British prize crew, whom they outnumbered almost ten to one. But Cochrane had thought of that too. He ordered the most powerful guns on the Gamo, the two 24-pounder carronades from the bows, to be manhandled until they pointed down into the hold. Throughout the voyage British seamen with lighted tapers were stationed by the loaded guns to discourage thoughts of counter-attack by the prisoners. In this manner the Speedy returned to the British base on Minorca, escorting the prize which towered above her.21
Cochrane's immediate superior, Captain Manley Dixon, wrote excitedly to the Secretary of the Admiralty on 9 June, describing "the very spirited and brilliant action", which Cochrane had led. Cochrane himself attributed success, in his official despatch, to Lieutenant Parker, Archibald Cochrane, and to the "exertions and good conduct of the boatswain, carpenter, and petty officers". Neither the Admiralty in general, nor St Vincent as First Lord, reciprocated this enthusiasm. St Vincent, assuming office with the new government of Henry Addington, was not likely to make the mistake of flattering a brash young commander whose recent court-martial had shown such disrespect for his superiors. The old man had a reputation to maintain, the scourge of rebellious officers and mutinous seamen alike. It was left to Captain Edward Brenton, who was ironically St Vincent's biographer, to proclaim after the war that, in single-ship actions, those of Cochrane "stand pre-eminent". Indeed, outside the Admiralty, the Gamo incident caught the public imagination. There was a steady procession of viewers to the public rooms in Lower Brook Street, where a new painting of the engagement by the fashionable marine artist Nicholas Pocock was proudly exhibited.22
Traditionally, Cochrane would be made post-captain and given command of the prize when it was enrolled in the Royal Navy. As for prize money, a xebec-class frigate, shared among so few men, even allowing for Admiral Lord Keith's portion, was a lucrative prospect. There was some astonishment, and then anger, when the Admiralty announced that the Gamo would not be bought for the navy. She was to be auctioned off as merchantman or hulk at a fraction of the price, perhaps little more than the costs of the prize court proceedings. As for Cochrane, he would have no frigate to command, so there was no need to promote him post-captain. Such a rank would be ludicrous for a man who was ordered to continue in command of a brig-sloop.
Other men took up Cochrane's case. His uncle, Alexander Cochrane, wrote two letters to St Vincent, soliciting his nephew's promotion. The Earl of Dundonald wrote later, criticising the effect that delay would have upon his son's seniority in the navy list. There was so much feeling on Cochrane's behalf that "it became almost a point of etiquette with the earl not to make him a captain". One of St Vincent's colleagues was reported to have said, "My lord, we must make Lord Cochrane 'post'." To which the old man growled, "The First Lord of the Admiralty knows no must!"23
Ignoring the official snub to himself, Cochrane fought determinedly for recognition of his second-in-command, Lieutenant Parker. Parker had continued to lead his men with exemplary courage, though a Spanish sword had run through his thigh and a musket ball had hit him in the chest. Cochrane vowed that Parker must be promoted and the Admiralty were equally resolute in their decision to ignore him.
Cochrane wrote direct to St Vincent on three occasions, urging Parker's promotion, before the First Lord replied that "the small number of men killed on board the Speedy did not warrant the application". If Cochrane had thought prudently about his future prospects in the Royal Navy he would have dropped the matter. Instead, he wrote to St Vincent, reminding him that his own earldom had been awarded for an action in which there was only one man killed on his flagship. The innuendo was calculated to heat the First Lord to apoplexy. He knew full well that his enemies swore the casualties had been light on the flagship because St Vincent kept well out of danger, leaving Nelson and the inshore squadron to do the fighting.24
Having infuriated the First Lord, Cochrane then turned upon the Commissioners of the Admiralty collectively. He wrote them a letter on 17 May, enclosing another for Evan Nepean, the Secretary to the Board, remarking bitterly to him, "if their Lordships judge by the small number killed, I have only to say that it was fortunate the enemy did not point their guns better". Nepean replied smoothly that it was "perfectly regular" for Cochrane to write to him, "but that it is not so for officers to correspond with the Board". Cochrane wrote back furiously, saying that he cared nothing for this but demanded to be "favoured with an answer" to his application on behalf of Parker. Nepean wrote a dismissive note, informing Cochrane that he had "nothing in command from their Lordships to communicate to you". Lieutenant Parker's recognition was to be delayed until Cochrane was in a position to extort it from the Admiralty.25
In the view of his brother officers, Cochrane had wrecked his career by this contretemps with men of political and professional influence. He and the Speedy were relegated to more humdrum tasks, indeed he admitted that his name was now "placed on the black list of the Admiralty, never again to be erased". The brig was downgraded to packet-escort or to run errands to Algiers. By a typical irony of war, it was in the North African port that she met the Gamo again. The Admiralty had deprived Cochrane and his crew of their expected reward by selling the frigate to the Algerians "for a trifle".26
Cochrane cared little whether or not his name was on the Admiralty "black list". He had out-fought the Spaniards and now he proposed to out-fight the Commissioners by much the same methods. It was not pure altruism, since the outrage to an innate sense of honour was almost equalled by the affront to his mercenary values. His country urged him to fight bravely, which he did, but he expected to be paid. Additional feats of bravery, in his view, merited additional financial reward. Close acquaintance with the "res angusta domi" had taught him the value of money, and the simple lesson that a price could be put upon acts of valour.
Lord St Vincent was unlikely to agree with Cochrane in public, but even he attacked privately "the frauds in the receipt of forfeited prize money". That Cochrane and his crew were robbed of some of their rewards is a matter of record. In one case they received nothing, and Cochrane was told that he was personally in debt for £100 as the cost of proceedings. It was true that his ordinary seaman earned, through prizes, more than the pay of officers on other ships but that hardly consoled them for injustices done.27
In July 1801 the Speedy was packet-escort between Port Mahon and Gibraltar with little opportunity for taking prizes or for any sort of independent action. The letter bag was put aboard the brig at Port Mahon and she sailed in company with the packet-boat until they arrived off Gibraltar. There the bag was transferred to the packet-boat which sailed into Gibraltar alone and then returned. This extraordinary ritual had been ordered by the commandant of Port Mahon, a friend of the merchant who had the contract for carrying mails. The contractor knew that the packet-boat he had hired, f
or the lowest possible price, was far too unseaworthy to be entrusted with the mails. He had therefore reached a private agreement with his friends in the Royal Navy that the letter bag should go aboard the Speedy and be transferred off Gibraltar, so that it would look to the authorities there as if it had come all the way in the packet-boat.
Cochrane escorted the boat along the Mediterranean coast of Spain, keeping a wistful eye on any possible prizes. It was just beyond Alicante that he saw some small merchant vessels anchored in a bay. As soon as the Speedy turned inshore towards them, they weighed anchor and their captains ran them ashore to avoid capture. Not only would Cochrane have had to land his men on a hostile coast but he might have had to wait several hours until the tide had risen sufficiently to float any of the vessels off. "To have stopped to get them off would have been in excess of our instructions,'' he decided. "To set fire to them was not."
The Speedy dropped anchor in the bay, leaving the packet-boat and its crew waiting nervously offshore. The broadside of the little 4-pounders boomed across the water and, to Cochrane's satisfaction, there was an explosion and a billow of fire from one of the vessels, which was carrying oil. Soon they were all alight and for many miles around the glow of fire filled the night sky.
On the following morning, as the Speedy sailed out of the bay, the top-sails of three splendid ships appeared on the horizon. "Spanish galleons from South America," said Cochrane instinctively. The day was only just dawning but there was enough light for the Speedy to give chase. As the sun bathed the sea with the brilliance of a Mediterranean summer, the shape of the three great ships grew clearer. They were the Indomitable, the Formidable and the Dessaix, three of the most powerful ships of the line in the French fleet. It was unusual for them to be so close inshore but they had been attracted by the light of the burning merchant vessels.