by Dean King
At daybreak the following morning we saw all the enemy’s ships, except two, on shore on the Palais shoal. The Ocean was lying with her stern on the top of the bank and her bows in the water; but next high water she, with two others, by throwing their guns and heavy stores overboard, got afloat again and ran towards Rochefort, until they stuck on the bar, and there remained until they could get more lightened.
At 2 p.m. the Imperieuse and some others of a light draught of water which were inside of our fleet, ran into Aix Roads and opened their fire on the Calcutta, and soon made her strike her colours. They then set her on fire, as she was fast aground, but it was thought she might have been got off by lightening her. The two line-of-battle ships that had not been on shore now cut their cables and ran towards Rochefort, until the bar brought them up.
The Revenge, Valiant, and Etna bomb were soon after ordered in, and began firing on the other enemy’s ships that lay aground, and at five in the evening the Varsovie, Aquilon, and Tonnere surrendered, and three more fire-vessels were ordered to be got ready with all dispatch. We got the Sisters transport alongside for one of them, and soon fitted her up in a temporary manner for the purpose, and this same afternoon, between five and six o’clock, we got the Caesar under way, and with the Theseus and three fire-vessels ran into Aix Roads.
N.B.—In passing the Aix batteries, where our French pilots had said there were as many guns as days in the year, we could not find above thirteen guns that could be directed against us in passing; and these we thought so little of that we did not return their fire, although they fired pretty smartly at us too with shot and shells, which made the water splash against the ship’s side; yet (thank God) they never hit, though the passage here is only about a mile wide. Captain Beresford of the Theseus had his cow put into the ship’s head to be out of the way of the guns; a shot from the enemy killed it, which was the only loss received.
About seven o’clock, just as we were getting nearly out of the range of their guns, our ship took the ground and stuck fast nearly close to the Boyard. The shot and shells were flying about us at the time from Aix and Oleron, but it soon came dark, and they left off, and we had the prudence to still keep all the sails set to make them believe we were running on. However, after dark we took them all in, and as the tide fell the ship heeled much, so we started thirty tons of water overboard to help to lighten her, and ran the after guns forward to bring her more on an even keel. During this business a light was seen by the enemy through one of our port-holes, and we soon had a shot whistling across our quarterdeck. The light was quickly extinguished, and they fired no more. But this shows what a predicament we should have been in had it been daylight.
At eleven at night, with the rise of the tide, she floated again, and we got her into deeper water, where we anchored her more clear from their shot and more clear from the Calcutta, which had been all in a blaze only a short distance from us; the latter when she blew up made a most dreadful explosion, having a great quantity of gunpowder on board and other stores which were intended for Martinique, had we not prevented her. It was said she was worth half a million sterling.
Fortunately none of her fiery timbers fell on board our ship: everything went upwards, with such a field of red fire as illuminated the whole elements. One of our French pilots was so frightened that he dropped down on the deck, and said afterwards that if anybody had told him that the English had done such things, and he had not seen them, he would say it was “one tam lie.”
In the course of this eventful night Captain [John] Bligh of the Valiant was sent in with the boats manned and armed to reconnoitre the enemy more closely, and on his return informed us that they had got three lines of boats manned and armed to keep off any more fire-ships, and, it beginning to blow strong at the time, the attempt was given up. So we set fire to the Varsovie, a new 90-gun ship (for she carried that number), and to the Aquilon (74 guns), as they were waterlogged. They burnt to the water’s edge, and then blew up. As for the Tonnere (74 guns), the enemy set fire to her themselves, and then escaped in their boats.
In the place where we now had anchored we found our ships to ground at low water. And early in the morning, the wind having become favourable, we got under way with the other line-of-battle ships, and left this place, which may be compared to Portsmouth Harbour, and soon after anchored among our other ships in Basque Roads, which may be compared to Spithead. The enemy fired at us from Aix in passing their line, but, thanks to Providence, not a man was hurt.
The frigates and small craft we left inside, but the enemy had got their ships lightened so much, and into shoal water, that the shot from our frigates could not reach them.
Our loss on this occasion was as follows:
When our fire-ship had got near the enemy an explosion vessel (which they did not see) blew up, and a piece of one of the shells, which had burst, struck the boat alongside of the fire-ship which Mr. Winthorpe and his four men had to escape in, and stove in her quarter (they were light four-oared gigs, and selected for the purpose), and wounded the boat-keeper in the hand. When they left the fire-ship, it being rough weather, she soon filled with water, and they clung to the boat for safety.
As the ebb tide was setting out strong they drifted out to one of our brigs, who sent her boat to save them; but two of them were gone and lost through exhaustion. Mr. Winthorpe was found in the boat quite dead, and Yankee Jack and the other were taken out of the gig nearly so, and when carried alongside the brig, Jack requested to be left in the boat until he recovered and got a little stronger, so the boat was dropped astern, and he in her.
He had not been there long before the rope broke, and being very dark, the boat soon drove out of sight, and the first landfall poor Jack made was on the French shore, where he was soon made a prisoner. We all pitied poor Jack Ellis, a good-tempered fellow, and never expected to see him again. But after the war was over, and Jack released, I met him on the Common Hard at Portsea, and was glad to see poor Jack again: he then belonged to a merchant vessel.
He told me that when he was made a prisoner he was examined strictly to know whether or not he belonged to one of the fire-ships, as by the laws of war they can put any one to death taken in them. But Jack said he belonged to one of the victuallers. They asked him then how he came to have his hand wounded, and he said it was by the boat’s gunwale and ship’s side as they rolled together, and by sticking to the same story (after being examined thirteen times at Rochefort and other places) he got clear, but remained a prisoner five years. When peace took place in 1814, Jack got released, returned to England, and received the whole of his pay and prize money up to that time.
Lieutenant Jones, who commanded the fire-ship, had likewise a narrow escape. One of the cabin windows had been opened for him to get into the boat, after the fuse was lighted; but the swell was so high, and the sea so rough, they durst not venture near the stern of the vessel for fear of staving the boat against the counter, and—not having a moment to spare—he jumped overboard. The boat took him up, and they all five arrived safe on board.
Lieutenant Davis, with the jolly-boat and four hands, who went in with the explosion vessel, likewise all safely returned on board.
A singular circumstance happened while we lay inside, as follows. The captain of the Varsovie, a prisoner, finding we were going to set his ship on fire, got permission to go on board her to get some charts, which he said he set a high value on. He went with Lord Cochrane, and sat alongside of him in the gig, and, strange to say, but actually true, a shot came from the enemy at Aix and killed the French captain on the spot, without either hurting his Lordship or any one in the gig.
Other occurrences happened, but we hardly had time to think of them, being so dangerously situated; for who could ever suppose to see four sail of the line go into Portsmouth Harbour, passing the batteries, and running up as far as the Hardway and there anchoring, and destroying part of the enemy’s fleet, and then running the gauntlet out again amidst shot and shells flying about!
Such was the case going into Aix Harbour. Had a gale come on from the north-west and blocked us in we should have been in a poor situation, but kind Providence favoured us in everything.
The killed and wounded in the British fleet are: Two officers and eight men killed; nine officers and twenty-six wounded, and one missing (which was Yankee Jack): total forty-six.
On the evening of April 14th the enemy succeeded in lightening the three-decker so much that with a press of sail and a high tide they got her over the bar, and she went up to Rochefort; the commodore tried hard to get the Cassard over, but failed; the Etna bomb kept throwing shells, but without any effect, as the swell made her roll so much.
Next day three more of the enemy’s line-of-battle ships got over the bar and went to Rochefort; three more remained, but so far up and in the shallow water that our frigates could [not] get near enough for their shot to reach them: the Etna’s 13-in. mortar split, and all the shells of her 11-in. mortar were fired away, and apparently without doing any execution. Manned all the launches of the fleet to cover the three remaining fire-ships that are to be sent in to-night; but a gale came on with rain, and it was given up.
Next day, the 16th (still stormy weather), the enemy being afraid of an attack on the Indiana frigate, which lay aground, set her on fire, and she soon blew up.
17TH.—All the enemy’s ships this day got over the bar except the Regulus (74 guns), which still remained aground near a place called Fouras, about four miles above the Isle of Aix; this day we released several male and female prisoners, gave them a boat, and saw them land safe at Rochelle, and hope they are thankful for their deliverance.
19TH.—By order of the commander in chief public thanks were given to Almighty God through the fleet for our success over the enemy.
28TH.—Orders arrived for the return of Lord Gambier, and we got four months of excellent provisions from the Caledonia, and likewise three dozen of Congreve’s rockets from the Cleveland transport. Next day Lord Gambier sailed for England in the Caledonia, leaving the command to Rear-Admiral Stopford in the Caesar, with the Tonnant, Revenge, and Aigle and Medusa frigates, four gun brigs, a schooner, and two cutters to watch the motions of the enemy.
Arrived the Naiad frigate from England, with the Hound and Vesuvius bombs; but being too late they were ordered to England again. The Naiad had some people on board taken out of a sinking galiot which had only left Rochefort yesterday; they informed us that Bonaparte had ordered the chief officers of his ships at Rochefort to be put under arrest, and ’twas thought some would suffer death; and that they were building two hundred gunboats with all haste to protect their coast.
A man named Wall, who called himself an American, ran away from the Cassava, stole a boat and got off to our squadron; he informed us that the Tourville, Regulus, and Patriot are so much disabled that they are ordered to be cut down for mortar vessels, and that the Ocean is in a bad state; the Cassard is to be docked, but the others were not very much damaged; that Captain Lacaille of the Tourville is to suffer two years’ imprisonment, to be erased from the list of officers and degraded from the Legion of Honour, and that Captain Porteau of the Indiana is to be confined to his chamber three months for setting fire to his ship without orders. Captain de la Ronciere of the Tonnere is acquitted; but John Baptist Lafon, captain of the Calcutta, is to be hanged at the yard-arm on board the Ocean for shamefully quitting his ship when in presence of the enemy. This is the fellow who had the English colours hung Union down last winter to insult us, and moreover they were hung under the bowsprit and near the privy: they generally who act in this manner are cowards.
30TH.—Divine service performed, and an excellent sermon was preached by the Rev. Mr. Jones, touching on several remarkable instances of divine favour which happened on several occasions on our behalf, and how the very materials the enemy were collecting to destroy us fell into our hands and acted against themselves; how the winds favoured us in going into Aix Roads, and how they shifted to bring us safe out again; these were such convincing facts that they made a great impression on the ship’s company. Next day a bowsprit with the jibboom spritsail yard and part of the knee of the head hanging to it came floating alongside, and we hoisted them on board, and to our surprise found they had belonged to the Calcutta when she blew up, and had come, as it were, to do homage for the insult offered on it two or three months ago, by hanging the English colours under it Union downwards. The rascals little thought at the time it would be so soon in our possession; there surely was something mysterious in this.
MAY 12.—A play was acted on board the Revenge called “All the World’s a Stage,” and several of us went on board to see it, the admiral among the rest, which gave much satisfaction. As for the Caesar, we never had diversion of any kind to cheer us up during the many weary dull nights we had passed on this station.
24TH.—Three very long and large boats belonging to the enemy came out from Aix Roads, and in a daring manner lay on their oars for some time nearly within gunshot, staring at us. We sent our boats manned and armed, who soon made them run, and chased them close in to Aix Roads. Five other boats came out and joined their other three; a smart fire commenced, and the shot from their batteries fell around our boats likewise. Our admiral, seeing the enemy were getting too powerful, recalled the boats, and they returned without having a man hurt.
JUNE 5.—This morning a heavy gale of wind and rain came on from the westward, which caused the sea to rise much; struck lower yards and topmasts; at 11 a.m. she drove with two cables out; let go the best bower and veered out another cable, which brought her up. The Tonnant parted from both anchors and nearly drove on shore near Rochelle, but her sheet anchor being let go brought her up; she made a signal of distress, but no assistance could be given in such stormy weather; fortunately she rode the storm out.
10TH.—A cartel came in from Cayenne and anchored near us; three French small craft were sent from Rochelle to take the people out of her. An American and a Maltese who came out in these vessels entered into our service, and would not return to Rochelle again: so much for Bonaparte’s popularity! They told us the French ships at Rochefort were getting ready very fast and five of them would soon come down; and sure enough this same afternoon we saw three of the rascals coming down the Charente for Aix Roads. Sent our boats to assist the Tonnant in sweeping for her anchors, and found one.
17TH.—This day arrived Rear-Admiral Sotheby in the Dreadnought and relieved us in the command; saluted each other with thirteen guns each, distributing our provision (except one month’s) to the other ships of the squadron; gave an anchor to the Tonnant and in the evening got under way with glad hearts for Old England.
While the action at Aix Roads was politically successful and the Royal Navy further established its hegemony of the seas, it was a bitter experience for Cochrane, who had been forced by the Admiralty to command the dangerous fire-ship attack, thereby superceding officers superior to him and already on the station. This, as Cochrane knew it would, infuriated and insulted at least one, Admiral Sir Eliab Harvey, who argued vehemently with Gambler, returned to England, and was dismissed from the service. Furthermore, at a crucial stage in the attack, Gambier—the same captain who had so boldly led the British fleet into battle at the Glorious First of June—failed to send Cochrane the supporting ships of the line he needed to strike a more devastating blow upon the stranded French ships. Cochrane was made a Knight Commander of the Order of Bath for his courageous and vigorous attack; nonetheless, he aired his negative views about Gambier in public, thus tainting the victory and his reputation at the Admiralty.
With a little more initiative from Gambier, perhaps the Battle of Aix Roads could have been a much greater victory for the Royal Navy. But it was perceived publicly as a triumph. Britain was still riding the tide of Trafalgar. Virtually unchallenged at sea now, the Royal Navy was in a position to support land incursions on the continent by the British Army. Accordingly, troops were landed in Portugal in August of 1808, and bef
ore the end of the month Sir Arthur Wellesley (later the Duke of Wellington) had defeated the French at Vimiera, Portugal. But a politically disastrous negotiation at Cintra, which repatriated 26,000 captive French soldiers, on British ships, no less, caused Wellesley and his superiors, General Sir Harry Burrard and General Sir Hugh Dalrymple, to be recalled to England.
Sir John Moore now took command of the British Army on the Iberian Peninsula, moving his 35,000 men against Joseph Bonaparte, usurper of the Spanish throne. Outnumbered, Moore eventually was forced to beat a retreat to Corunna, Spain, where, in January 1809, the Navy was ready to embark his army. Among the naval forces present was Lieutenant Basil Hall.
1 A short mast midway between the centerline and the bulwarks from which a derick is supported and stayed.
2 Corunna, Jan. 16, 1809. For an account of this battle, see “When I Beheld These Men Spring from the Ground, 1809” page 234.
3 They were, in fact, the Italien, Calypso, and Sybille as previously reported by Richardson.
Basil Hall
When I Beheld These Men Spring from the Ground
1809
WHEN WE PREVIOUSLY ENCOUNTERED Basil Hall, during the period of peace between the two Napoleonic wars, he was a midshipman frolicking on board the Leander in the waters off Bermuda. Having recently passed for lieutenant and been appointed to the frigate Endymion, commanded by the Honorable Thomas Bladen Capel, Hall sailed from Spithead to Corunna along with some two hundred transports carrying troops to reinforce Sir John Moore’s army. In this passage, Hall witnesses the brief but fierce Battle of Corunna (January 16) on the northwest coast of Spain, where the retreating British troops (fifteen thousand men and nine cannon) under General Sir John Moore fight a Trench force of sixteen thousand men and forty cannon under Marshal Nicolas Jean de Dieu Soult.