Part 1

CELEBRATED NAVAL AND MILITARY TRIALS.

BY PETER BURKE,

=Serjeant-at-Law.=

AUTHOR OF “CELEBRATED TRIALS CONNECTED WITH THE ARISTOCRACY,” AND OF “THE ROMANCE OF THE FORUM.”

LONDON:

WM. H. ALLEN & CO., 13, WATERLOO PLACE, S.W.

1866.

=To his friend,=

JAMES HOLBERT WILSON,

WHOSE TASTES ARE SO CONGENIAL WITH HIS OWN,

THE AUTHOR,

WITH MUCH PLEASANT REMEMBRANCE,

INSCRIBES THIS VOLUME.

3, SERJEANT’S INN, _Christmas, 1865_.

CONTENTS.

PAGE Admiral Benbow and his Treacherous Captains 1 Captain Kidd, a Pirate with a Royal Commission 21 Soldiers and Civilians in the time of William III. 49 The Trial of Admiral Byng 60 The Trial of Lord George Sackville 93 The Dockyard Incendiary, Jack the Painter 118 The Trial of Admiral Keppel 158 The Mutiny of the “Bounty” 200 The Mutiny at the Nore 229 The Trial of Governor Wall 264 The Trial of Colonel Despard 307 The Court-Martial on Vice-Admiral Calder 349 Trial of General Sir Robert Wilson and others for the Escape of Lavallette 376

CELEBRATED TRIALS,

CONNECTED WITH THE ARMY AND NAVY.

ADMIRAL BENBOW AND HIS TREACHEROUS CAPTAINS.

There was, before the time of Rodney and Nelson, no name more popular among the sailors of the British navy than that of Admiral Benbow. He had been a sailor himself, and he was, while living, the sailors’ idol; and since his death his memory has been held in much reverence by the Jack Tars of that and every succeeding age. The thorough sagacity, honesty, and gallantry he displayed in his many daring ventures had taken, too, with the general public: and “old Benbow,” as he was familiarly called (though really never an old man) was looked on as the model of a rough and real British seaman, suited for all weather and all war. He and his deeds have been the subject of many a naval song[1] and story, and his likeness was formerly a common sign for public houses throughout the country. Moreover, to this day, the portraits of the admiral in the town hall of Shrewsbury, and in Greenwich Hospital, and his stalwart visage still to be seen, here and there, in front of some rural inn; and more than all that, the many yarns about him, show that even amid the greater glories of Keppel and Duncan, Rodney and Nelson, old Benbow is not forgotten. Admiral Benbow, though he had to make his own way, came, according to his biographers, from a branch of an ancient and honourable line,—the Benbows of Newport, in the county of Salop; but, singular to say, much obscurity hangs about his immediate parentage. In the Civil War his family of Benbow was Cavalier, and sacrificed life and property in bravely sustaining the royal cause. Colonel Thomas Benbow and Colonel John Benbow, generally understood to be,—the former uncle, and the latter father, of the admiral, were, it is related, both men of estate, and both officers in the army of Charles I. They were in the military service of the crown prior to the murder of the king, and afterwards fought at Worcester, and were made prisoners at or shortly after that engagement. Much discrepancy occurs as to the exact result of their capture. The usual biographies we find of Admiral Benbow will have it that the elder, Colonel Thomas Benbow, was shot at Shrewsbury on the 15th, 17th, or 19th of October, 1651, and that Colonel John Benbow made his escape. I, however, on referring to the State Trials, find that a _Captain_ John Benbow (he may have never been colonel, or his promotion of colonel might be looked on as illegal in the eyes of the Commonwealth) was tried on the 1st of October, 1651, by a Roundhead court-martial, and had the honour of having, on that occasion, two important fellow prisoners, viz., the brave royalist, Sir Timothy Fetherstonhaugh, and the illustrious Earl of Derby. The earl and Sir Timothy were sentenced to be beheaded,—the one on the 15th of October, 1651, at Bolton; and the other on the 22nd of the same month at Chester; and Captain John Benbow was sentenced to be shot at Shrewsbury on the 15th of the same month. The earl and Fetherstonhaugh, as every one knows, died pursuant to their sentences; but I find no statement, in the State Trials at least, that John Benbow was actually executed. Could it be, if this account is to be sustained, that Colonel Thomas Benbow was shot by sentence of some previous court-martial, and that John escaped from the judgment to be put in force at Shrewsbury? However, whether from that judgment or not, escape he must have done, if the following story refer to him, which, however, is doubtful. He, it is said, lived during the Commonwealth in concealment, his land being forfeited; and the Restoration found him poor and broken down, and glad to accept a small ordnance post in the Tower of London. Here he was, when his death is reported to have occurred in a very affecting way. It happened that a little before the breaking out of the first Dutch war, King Charles II. came to the Tower to examine the magazines, and his majesty there cast his eye on the colonel, whose appearance had become venerable by a fine head of grey hair. The king, whose memory was as quick as his eye, knew him at first sight, and immediately came up and embraced him. “My old friend, Colonel Benbow,” said he, “what do you here?” “I have,” returned the colonel, “a place of fourscore pounds a year, in which I serve your majesty as cheerfully as if it brought me in four thousand.” “Alas!” said the king, “Is that all that could be found for an old friend at Worcester? Colonel Legge, bring this gentleman to me to-morrow, and I will provide for him and his family as it becomes me.” But, short as the time was, the colonel did not live to receive, or so much as to claim, the effects of this gracious promise; for the sense of the king’s gratitude and goodness so overcame his spirits, that, sitting down on a bench, he there breathed his last, before the king was well out of the Tower.[2] John Benbow, the future admiral, was fifteen years of age,[3] and was in the merchant service at the time this Colonel Benbow’s demise thus happened. One thing is certain, that the king’s good-natured interview resulted in no benefit to young Benbow; but he found a better friend in his own industry and ability, which raised him to be owner and commander of the _Benbow_ frigate, one of the most considerable vessels then employed in the Mediterranean trade. Captain Benbow had grown into high esteem with the merchants of the Royal Exchange as a brave, active, and skilful seaman, when the following singular incident led to his passing into the royal navy.

In the year 1686, Captain Benbow, in his own vessel, the _Benbow_ frigate, was attacked in his passage to Cadiz by a Moorish corsair, from that notorious nest of pirates, Salee. Captain Benbow defended himself, though very unequal in the number of men, with the utmost bravery, till at last the Moors boarded him; but were quickly beat out of his ship again with the loss of thirteen men, whose heads Captain Benbow ordered to be cut off, and thrown into a tub of brine. When he arrived at Cadiz he went ashore, and directed a negro servant to follow him, with the Moors’ heads in a sack. He had scarcely landed before the officers of the revenue inquired of his servant what he had in his sack. The captain answered, salt provisions for his own use. That may be, answered the officers; but we must insist on seeing them. Captain Benbow alleged that he was no stranger there; that he did not use to run goods, and pretended to take it very ill that he was suspected. The officers told him that the magistrates were sitting not far off, and that if they were satisfied with his word, his servant might carry the provisions where he pleased; but that otherwise it was not in their power to grant such dispensation.

The captain consented to the proposal, and away they marched to the custom-house, Captain Benbow in the front, his man in the centre, and the officers in the rear. The magistrates, when he came before them, treated Captain Benbow with great civility; told him they were sorry to make a point of such a trifle, but that since he had refused to show the contents of his sack to their officers, the nature of their employments obliged them to demand a sight of them; and that, as they doubted not they were salt provisions, the showing them could be of no great consequence one way or other. “I told you,” says the captain sternly, “they were salt provisions for my own use. Cæsar, throw them down upon the table; and, gentlemen, if you like them, they are at your service.” The Spaniards were astounded at the sight of the Moors’ heads, and no less astonished at the account of the captain’s adventure, who, with so small a force, had been able to defeat such a number of barbarians. They sent an account of the whole matter to the court of Madrid, and Charles II., then king of Spain, was so much pleased with it, that he would needs see the English captain, who made a journey to court, where he was received with great testimonies of respect, and not only when departing received a handsome present, but his Catholic Majesty was also pleased to write a letter in his behalf to King James II., a naval monarch, well able to appreciate the captain’s daring; and so it proved, for the English king, upon the captain’s return, gave him a ship, which was his introduction to the Royal navy.[4] There he speedily won high distinction, but as his career is matter of history, I pass over his several daring cruises, his effective convoys, his bombardment of St. Maloes, his fire-ships, and his bold attack on Calais, where he was wounded, and his other numerous acts of gallantry. He became an admiral in 1694, and in 1700 King William III., it is said, to mark his approbation, granted him an honourable augmentation to his arms, “by adding to the three bent bows which he and his family already bore as many arrows.”[5] On the approach of the war of the Succession, King William wanted a commander for his West India fleet, but hesitated summoning Benbow, as he had already worked him so hard. Some other officers sent for seemed not to like undertaking the heavy duty proposed, upon which the king is reported to have said, “I will not have these beaux, but must get a beau of another sort, honest Benbow.” The admiral accordingly arrived, and when the king excused himself for exacting what he thought too much, Benbow said, “he knew no difference of climates, and, for his part, he thought no officer had a right to choose his station, that he himself should be, at all times, ready to go to any part of the world to which his majesty thought proper to send him.”

Benbow sailed with the fleet to the West Indies; he there did all he could to carry out the object of his government to force the Spanish colonies not to recognise Philip V., Louis XIV.’s grandson, as king of Spain; and the moment he received official information of war being declared, May, 4, 1702, against France, he prepared, with his usual daring, to attack with a far inferior force the squadron under the command of the French admiral, Du Casse. This brought on the affair, which redounded so to his own honour and to the disgrace of the captains under him. Mr. C. J. Yonge, in his recent able “History of the British Navy,” to which I shall have to refer more than once in this volume, gives the following clear and spirited account of the memorable engagement:—

“In the autum of 1701 Benbow had been sent to the Antilles, where it was known that the French admiral, Du Casse, was also cruising. Benbow was a resolute and skilful officer, but a man of a somewhat rough and stern temper, which had excited a feeling of insubordination and hostility against him in the breasts of some of his officers. Though peace still subsisted when he quitted England, his instructions were warlike; and he had acted on them, making prizes of several Spanish ships, and in no respect keeping secret his intention to treat the French in the same manner, if opportunity should offer. In the spring of 1702 certain information reached him that the French were preparing greatly to increase their force in the neighbourhood; and at the beginning of August he learnt that Du Casse, with four ships of the line, and one large frigate, were off Carthagena, making arrangements with the Spaniards to cripple our trade in that quarter. His own force consisted of two ships of the line, one ship of fifty-four guns, and four large frigates.[6] With these he at once sailed in quest of the Frenchman; and, on the 19th of August, he found him proceeding under easy sail at no great distance from the South American shore. Benbow at once made the signal for battle, but, as the French squadron, though not positively fleeing from the combat, held on its course, without taking any measures to bring it on; little was done that evening, beyond exchanging one or two broadsides. The next five days are amongst the most discreditable in our naval history. During the night of the 19th, Benbow, in his own ship, the _Breda_, of seventy guns, had kept as close to the enemy as the darkness would allow; and so correct had been his judgment of their course, that at daybreak, on the 20th, he found himself close to them; but of all his squadron, but one frigate, the _Ruby_, Captain George Walton (on such a day of cowardice, or treachery, or both, his name deserves honourable mention), was at hand to support him; the rest had already contrived to fall several miles astern. Still, as the enemy continued on their way, Benbow, with this single comrade, pursued them as vigorously as he could, firing whenever they seemed within gunshot, and signalling with peremptory orders to the rest of the ships to join him. The next day the French, seeing his almost isolated state, halted to fight. The _Ruby_ behaved most gallantly, and engaged one of the ships of the line, but was soon disabled by her antagonist’s heavier fire, and might have been taken, had it not been for the resolute manner in which the _Breda_ first supported, and then protected her. While this conflict was proceeding, the _Defiance_, 64, Captain Kirby, was unable to avoid coming close to the enemy, but she refused to fire a single shot. The _Windsor_, 48, Captain Constable, behaved equally ill; and the next day the _Greenwich_, 54, Captain Wade, behaved even worse, keeping five leagues from the admiral, who, from the crippled state of the _Ruby_, was in greater need of support than ever. On the 23rd Benbow engaged the whole of the enemy’s ships single handed; he even took a small vessel, called the _Anne_, a British galley, which Du Casse had captured on his way out. At last, Captain Vincent, of the _Falmouth_, 48, began to feel something like shame at the part which he had been enacting, and came to his assistance. The next day Benbow, now supported by the _Falmouth_, was still continuing the fight with unabated resolution, when a chain-shot struck him on the leg. In spite of all the agony of this mortal wound (for such it proved to be) his spirit was as resolute as ever. He was borne below, but he soon ordered himself to be again carried on deck, where he still gave his orders with an unaltered countenance. ‘I am sorry, sir,’ said Fogg, his captain, ‘to see you in this state.’ ‘I am sorry too,’ said the brave old man; ‘but I would rather have lost both my legs than have seen this disgrace brought on the British flag.’ Presently he was addressed in a different spirit. Captain Kirby had the audacity to come on board the _Breda_, and tell him, ‘that he had better desist; the French were very strong, and, from what had passed, he might see that he could make nothing of it.’ In truth he could make nothing of it: he had, indeed, reduced the ship with which he had been most closely engaged to a wreck; but he had not escaped severe injury to his own masts and rigging. The whole French squadron were now in full flight, and he soon became convinced of the impossibility of keeping up any further pursuit of them with the slightest prospect of success. He returned for Jamaica, while Du Casse made his way to Carthagena, thankful for his escape, and well aware to what circumstances he owed it.”

The French admiral was a man of spirit, and fully acknowledged the heroism of Benbow and the rascality of the officers under him. He wrote a letter to Admiral Benbow, of which the following is a translation:—

“CARTHAGENA, _August, 1702_.

“Sir,—I had little hopes on Monday last but to have supped in your cabin, yet it pleased God to order it otherwise. As for those cowardly captains who deserted you, hang them up: for by —— they deserve it.

“DU CASSE.”

The original letter has been preserved by Admiral Benbow’s family.

Admiral Benbow, after being thus cheated, as it were, out of victory, returned to Jamaica, where he arrived with his squadron, very weak from a fever brought on by his wounds, and was soon after joined by Rear-Admiral Whetstone, with the ships under his command.

As soon as he conveniently could, Admiral Benbow issued a commission to Rear-Admiral Whetstone, and to several captains, to hold a court-martial for the trial of the several offenders. On the 6th of October, 1702, the court sat at Port Royal, when Captain Richard Kirby, of the _Defiance_, was brought upon his trial. He was accused of cowardice, breach of orders, and neglect of duty, which crimes were proved upon oath by Admiral Benbow himself, ten commission and eleven warrant officers; by whose evidence it appeared that the Admiral boarded Du Casse in person three times, and received a large wound in his face, and another in his arm, before his leg was shot off: that Kirby, after two or three broadsides, kept always out of gunshot, and by his behaviour created such a fear of his desertion, as greatly discouraged the English in the engagement: that he kept two or three miles astern all the second day, though commanded again and again to keep his station: that the third day he did not fire a gun, though he saw the admiral in the deepest distress, having two or three French men-of-war upon him at a time: and that he threatened to kill his boatswain for repeating the admiral’s command to fire. He had very little to say for himself, and therefore was most deservedly sentenced to be shot.

The same day, Captain John Constable, of the _Windsor_, was tried; his own officers vindicated him from cowardice, but the rest of the charge being clearly proved, he was sentenced to be cashiered, and to be imprisoned during Her Majesty’s (Queen Anne’s) pleasure. The next day, Captain Cooper Wade was tried, and the charge being fully proved by sixteen commission and warrant officers on board his own ship, as also, that he was drunk during the whole time of the engagement, he, making little or no defence, had the same sentence with Kirby. As for Captain Hudson, he died a few days before his trial should have come on, and thereby avoided dying as Kirby and Wade died, for his case was exactly the same as theirs.

Upon the 12th, came on the trials of Captain Samuel Vincent, commander of the _Falmouth_, and Captain Christopher Fogg, who was captain of the admiral’s own ship, the _Breda_, for signing, at the persuasion of Captain Kirby, a paper containing an obligation on themselves not to fight the French. The fact was clear, and the captains themselves did not dispute it. All they offered was in extenuation of their offence, and amounted only to this, that they were apprehensive Kirby would have deserted to the enemy, and they took this step to prevent it. But this tale would have hardly passed on the court-martial, if Admiral Benbow himself had not given some weight to their excuses, by declaring, that however they might be criminal in subscribing that paper, yet they certainly behaved themselves very gallantly in the fight. For the sake of discipline, the court, however, thought fit to suspend them; and yet, to favour the captains, the judgment was given with a proviso that entirely took off its edge, viz., that it should not commence till the pleasure of his Royal Highness Prince George of Denmark, the then Lord High Admiral, should be known. The prince dealt too leniently with them, for he sent orders for their being employed again.

The two chief offenders, however, Kirby and Wade, underwent the penalty their atrocious conduct had so richly merited. They were, in the spring of 1703, sent from Jamaica, onboard Her Majesty’s ship, the _Bristol_, and they arrived at Plymouth on the 16th of April, where (as in all the western ports), there lay a death warrant for their immediate execution, in order to prevent any applications in their favour; and not being, as having disgraced their country, permitted to land on English ground, they were accordingly shot on board the ship that brought them home, showing at their death such courage and constancy of mind, as made it evident that their behaviour in the engagement arose not from any natural cowardice, but from a corrupt and malignant hostility towards their gallant commander. Let us now return to Benbow himself. He lingered near a month after the trials; for the court sat on the 6th of October, and it was on the 4th of November, 1702, that his true and valiant spirit fled. He showed the soul of a perfect British seaman to the very last. He was all along extremely sensible of his danger, and never entertained any flattering hopes of recovery. Yet, while he calmly and religiously prepared for death, he, during his illness, never ceased to perform his duty as an English admiral, with the same firmness he had shown during the engagement, giving all the necessary orders for protecting the trade that could have been expected from him, if he had been in full health. In the letters he wrote home to his wife, he displayed anxiety for the interest of the nation, quite as great as, if not greater, than for his private fortune, or the concerns of his family. Queen Anne, who had succeeded King William on the 8th of March, 1702, deeply mourned the loss of the admiral, and ever expressed the greatest regard for his memory. The admiral’s sister had, in his lifetime, presented his picture to the Corporation of Shrewsbury, who caused it to be hung up in their town-hall, where it still remains, in lasting testimony of the affectionate remembrance in which the men of his county held his worth and patriotism.