In a recent blog about Captain Henry Trollope and HMS Glatton, we saw a single Royal Navy warship
engage eight enemy vessels successfully. Today’s blog deals with an equally
desperate battle against the odds.
Captain James Luttrell |
By 1782 the American War of Independence was winding down,
but actions were still being fought at sea. In December of that year Captain
James Luttrell (1751-1788) was in command of the 44-gun fifth-rate, HMS Mediator, off the north-west coast of
Spain. Luttrell was as much a politician as a naval officer, having been
elected to Parliament in 1775 (one would like to know more about he juggled his
time commitments since he appears to have been respected in both roles). He opposed
the war with the American colonists, believing that their cause was just, but
as a serving officer he did not hesitate to fight them and their French and
Spanish allies to the limit of his abilities.
At dawn on December 12th 1782 the Mediator sighted a convoy of five
vessels and closed with them to investigate. Three of the ships proved to be
French: the Ménagère, a 64-gun ship of the line
that had had half of its armament removed to make room for carrying freight;
the Aimable Eugénie, a 36-gun frigate; the Dauphin Royal, primarily a transport but carrying 28 guns. Two vessels
were at least nominally American, the Alexander,
a privateer, operating under a French-issued letter of marque, armed with 24
guns, as well as an un-named American brig. They represented a formidable challenge for a
single warship to take on. What was however in Luttrell’s favour was that the
convoy was primarily a transport unit rather than a fighting force and was
conveying supplies from France to the American rebels. It was part of a much
larger logistics operation that had run during much of the war and was
masterminded by Pierre Beaumarchais – remembered today as the dramatist who
wrote The Marriage of Figaro, the “must-see”
play of the period that was subsequently turned into an opera by Mozart.
The enemy convoy shortened sail and formed a line of battle,
obviously prepared to fight off any attack. Luttrell’s tactic was to drive
straight at it, taking advantage of the handiness of the Mediator, hoping to dislocate the enemy line, cause what damage he
could, and run should the action not develop to his satisfaction. By 10 a.m. the
range had closed sufficiently for the Ménagère
– which Luttrell still believed to be a fully-armed ship of the line – to open
fire. The broadside she released came from her upper deck only, demonstrating
that she was only partially armed and thereby considerably less dangerous than
she appeared. This encouraged Luttrell to drive through the enemy line (the tactic
that Nelson would later make his trademark) and cut off the Alexander. A single broadside was enough
for this privateer to strike her colours while the remaining French vessels and
the American brig made their escape. Luttrell put a prize crew aboard the Alexander and took some 100 prisoners from
her on board the Mediator. This must
have taken considerable time, and it is an indication of Luttrell’s confidence
in Mediator’s speed and sailing
abilities – not to mention in her crew – that he believed that he could catch
up with the retreating enemy.
HMS Mediator in action, December 12th 1782 (note enemy vessels escaping on the right) Painting by Thomas Luny (1759-1837) |
It took five hours to get in range of the Ménagère, which had been by then separated
from the other ships. She might well be under-armed but she still carried heavy
guns and Luttrell did not want to close the range further. He maintained
instead distant but ineffective fire. The weather was now deteriorating and a
sudden heavy squall caught Mediator and heeled her over so that water
poured in through her lower-deck gun ports to “knee depth”. This was when the professionalism of both
officers and seamen showed to advantage. Despite this setback, Mediator
was soon in a state to resume the chase. It was dark before she caught up with the
Ménagère, which was by now within five-miles of the shelter offered by
the Spanish naval base of Ferrol. He French captain’s nerve seems to have
failed at this point and before Mediator could deliver a broadside he
struck his colours. The same process was repeated as with the Alexander –
a prize crew put on board and prisoners, some 200 in this case, taken on to the Mediator
and both ships then bore away from the Spanish coast. At dawn the escaped
French frigate and American brig were sighted – both had been damaged in the
earlier fighting – but by now Luttrell’s crew was seriously depleted through
provision of prize-crews. Mediator had taken only seven casualties but was
now manned by only 190 men, compared with the more than 300 prisoners on board.
Luttrell reluctantly decide not to engage these enemy vessels and set course
for Plymouth with his prizes.
A
new drama played out during this voyage back to Britain. The American captain
of the captured Alexander, one Stephen Gregory, and some of his officers
had been accommodated in the Mediator’s gun-room. They managed somehow to
establish communication with the other prisoners on board and hatched a plan
for a take-over of the ship. The signal for action to commence was that one of the
eighteen-pounders in the gun room was to be discharged – one wonders how
Gregory managed to acquire the necessary powder to prime it – and in the
resulting confusion the prisoners were to burst out of the hatchways.
The
gun was fired during darkness but Mediator’s marines had been well
posted at all exits and the prisoners were unable to break out. Luttrell went to
the gun-room and found it on fire and everything within it shattered. Gregory and
a single accomplice were found there, miraculously unharmed. They were
immediately clapped in irons but it is typical of the gentlemanly standards of the
period that the French officers, who had taken no part in the plot, continued
to dine, under parole, at Luttrell’s own table.
In
this dramatic action, in which boldness and confidence had proved the decisive
factor, a single 44-gun ship, with a crew already depleted by provision of
manning for earlier prizes, took on a force deploying 132 guns and 634 men.
Casualties amounted to seven wounded. The enemy casualties were low also – a
total of ten dead and fifteen wounded on the two vessels captured, an indication
in itself of the lack of will which might otherwise have secured a different
result.
Considering
Luttrell’s splendid victory, it is sad to record the he died young, at only thirty-seven
and that his potential for high command was never realised.
Click here to download a free short-story: Britannia’s Eventide
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Britannia's Eventide is a snapshot
of a critical moment in the later years of Admiral Sir Nicholas Dawlish and his
wife, Lady Florence, whom you will have met earlier in their lives in the five
books of the series so far. It is not available elsewhere at this time. It is a
companion piece to the short-story Britannia's
Eye, which is a bonus-addition to the novel Britannia's Amazon, and which gives a glimpse of Nicholas Dawlish's
childhood.
I hope that you will enjoy the story, no less than the novels
in the series. I always value feedback, so don't hesitate to get back to me.
I'd especially like to know what you think of the idea of free short-stories
that fill in gaps in Dawlish's career that may not justify full books.
Best Wishes: Antoine Vanner
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