Cochrane

by Donald Thomas

  Sooner or later the French Navy must intervene to protect commerce. Cochrane had no intention of avoiding such an encounter. Indeed, it seemed to him entirely appropriate to crown months of prize-taking by victory in a sea fight. On 29 March 1806, he delivered to Admiral Thornborough some of the captured wine "of fine quality, on its way to Havre for the Parisian market". Thornborough then despatched the Pallas in pursuit of another French convoy. Having captured one of its ships, Cochrane sailed into the mouth of the Gironde, the long river estuary of Bordeaux. It was reported that several French corvettes were stationed near the mouth of the Gironde as a first line of defence for the great city against an attack from the sea. The corvettes were smaller than the Pallas but three or four of them ought to have been more than a match for her.

  On the night of 5 April 1806, Cochrane dropped anchor off the Cordouan lighthouse, several miles out to sea from the fortress of Royan and Fort du Verdon, on either side of the river's mouth. He was aided by a thick fog which helped to conceal the Pallas, while the light of Cordouan acted as his guide. The frigate's boats, including Cochrane's patent galley, were lowered, requiring so many sailors to man them that only forty out of the crew of 220 were left on board. Cochrane was obliged to remain with the Pallas but the boats, under the command of First Lieutenant John Haswell, dipped their oars and cut the cold Biscay swell. Presently, they faded into the darkness and the fog which shrouded the estuary several miles away.

  At 3 a.m. on an uneventful night, anchored almost within the river system of France, the men of the watch on the corvette Tapageuse, duty guard-ship in the mouth of the Gironde, were puzzled by a gentle bumping alongside, a sudden scrambling of men, and the appearance of armed British sailors and a detachment of marines in scarlet and white. The Tapageuse was roused in an instant, men clambering up from the lower deck to join the confused fight. Resistance was fierce but brief and those who were not quick enough to jump and swim for the shore soon found themselves prisoners of Lieutenant Haswell and his men. Two French corvettes, realising at last what had happened, put out to rescue the Tapageuse. But the prize crew had too great a start and, adding injury to insult, the men of the Pallas were already working the guns of the corvette, the broadsides flaring through the fog. The pursuers fell back and the Tapageuse sailed in darkness and stealth under the guns of Royan and gained the open sea.

  By this time, a general alarm had been raised. It was to be some time before the captured corvette could rendezvous with the Pallas, and Cochrane's ship was, in all theory, defenceless so long as he had no more than forty men on board. Indeed, as the sea began to lighten in the early dawn it seemed that the one disaster which had always threatened his plan was about to occur. Three sails appeared to windward, bearing down on his undermanned ship. He signalled them in the current Admiralty code, hoping that they might be from Admiral Thornborough's squadron. The signals were unanswered and the ships, being to windward, closed rapidly on the frigate. They were French corvettes, none of them as large as the Pallas but carrying forty or fifty guns between them, against her thirty-two, and over three hundred men against Cochrane's forty. The situation was actually worse than this, since though the Pallas had thirty-two guns, there were no crews to man thirty of them at all.

  The Pallas was riding at anchor with sails furled. Cochrane ordered all his men aloft with instructions to fasten the furled sails with rope yarn and undo the ropes by which they were normally reefed. The canvas thus remained furled by the extra ropes which had been used. At a given signal, the men were to cut through the rope so that the sails billowed out in a sudden cloud, a manoeuvre which would require the entire crew if it had been carried out in the orthodox manner. The captains of the French corvettes concluded that the sudden spread of canvas indicated "a numerous and highly disciplined crew" on board the frigate. "The manoeuvre," Cochrane recorded, "succeeded to a marvel." The three corvettes, believing that they were sailing into a trap, turned about and began to head along the shore. The Pallas set off in pursuit, her two chase-guns in the bows firing at the fleeing enemy. Had the French captains only known it, the two chase-guns were the only ones for which Cochrane had gun crews. The Pallas was otherwise defenceless.

  The nearest of the corvettes, desperate to escape, ran ashore on the sandy coast, the captain and crew hastily abandoning their vessel. Cochrane allowed them to get clear and then crippled her with his chase-guns, ensuring that she would never float off with the tide. Running up the British ensign for the first time in the engagement, he then closed on the second corvette which also ran ashore, dismasting herself in the process, and was abandoned and destroyed. The third corvette sailed out of range while Cochrane was disposing of the second. Indeed, he had no more leisure to spend in the action, since he was shortly due to rendezvous with the Tapageuse and her prize crew off the Cordouan lighthouse. As he approached the lighthouse, he found himself quite by chance on a course to intercept the third corvette which had escaped out to sea and was now circling back in as she attempted to reach the Gironde. At the sight of the Pallas, the captain of the corvette ran his ship aground as well, allowing her to be destroyed as the others had been. Cochrane collected the Tapageuse and her captors, as well as an entire crew of French prisoners who were shortly transferred to Admiral Thornborough's ships. Before Cochrane's arrival off the mouth of the Gironde, the waterway to Bordeaux had been defended by six corvettes. But twelve hours later, three of these had been destroyed and one captured, while the defences of one of the great cities of France had been thrown into alarm and disarray.38

  News of Cochrane's raids on the Biscay coast reached Napoleon, embroiled in his eastern campaign against Austria, Prussia, and the Czar. He recognised the man and the tactics, knowing of Cochrane from the Gamo incident and a number of other Mediterranean exploits. The great Consul listened to the catalogue of disasters, and then he bestowed that soubriquet which, like so many of its kind, was part insult and part grudging flattery. "Le loup des mers!"39

  Sea wolf or not, Cochrane's reputation as a prize-taker reached new heights in Plymouth and Portsmouth. As he came ashore from the Pallas there was a new audacity and self-confidence in his dealings with friend and foe alike. He never needed a press gang again to fill the vacancies on his ship. It was enough to placard the dockyard walls with his simple message "WANTED. Stout, able-bodied men who can run a mile without stopping with a sackful of Spanish dollars on their backs."40

  The Board of Admiralty and its civil servants were unimpressed by Cochrane's exploits in the Gironde. Alone among the prizes of the squadron, the Tapageuse was not bought for the navy and no prize money was allowed for her. There was, of course, the consolation of the captured merchantmen and their contents. Moreover, on the voyage home, the Pallas had attacked, grounded, rammed, and disabled a French frigate, with such vigour that Cochrane's ship itself had to be towed away by the Kingfisher. He also led his marines on to the Ile de Ré, drove off a hundred French militia, destroyed the signal station and blew up the artillery battery. Though Cochrane was no favourite of St Vincent's, the latter acknowledged Thornborough's despatches and added that the deeds of the Pallas "reflect very high honour on her captain, officers, and crew, and call for my warmest approbation". Apart from this, it was left to the press and the public, rather than to the Admiralty, to acknowledge the valour of Cochrane and his men.41

  Reflecting the fame of the Pallas, matters seemed more promising in respect of Cochrane's political career. With the death of Pitt in January 1806, the "All-the-Talents" coalition of the Whigs with some Tory support was formed by Grenville. Soon the shining talent of Charles James Fox, was also extinguished. In October, there was a further general election. Cochrane returned to the scene of his previous defeat at Honiton.

  If he felt intimidated by his opponent's triumph in the Honiton election of the previous year, his entry into the town in October 1806 certainly showed no sign of it. He drove into the main street in a smart carriage, known as a vis-a-vis, drawn by six fine horse
s. Behind him came a procession of carriages-and-four filled with officers and seamen of the Pallas who were once again the eager volunteers in his election campaign. Those citizens who had supported him before were ready to do so again, but his victory would depend on some of Cavendish Bradshaw's paid voters changing sides. His appearance and demeanour were such, however, that even these political realists did not yet dare to raise the question of a bribe with him.

  When the polls opened, no man could predict the outcome. Many of the voters who were up for hire seemed strongly tempted to settle for Bradshaw's five guineas and give him their vote. On the other hand, they were tormented by the knowledge that they had lost ten guineas in the last election by doing so. Some of these civic heroes succumbed to greed and some yielded to discretion, remaining with Bradshaw. But when the final day of polling arrived and the result was announced, more than enough of them had taken a chance on Cochrane's generosity to make him the winner of the contest and Member of Parliament for Honiton. Among the jubilation of the Pallas's crew and the carnival of celebration in the streets of the little town, Cochrane was approached by the same smiling faces who had assured him in the last election that they always "votes for Mr Most". They had come for their ten guineas.

  "Not one farthing!" said the tall uniformed post-captain disdainfully.

  "But, my lord, you gave ten guineas a head to the minority at the last election, and the majority have been calculating on something handsome on the present occasion."

  "No doubt," said Cochrane coolly. "The former gift was for their disinterested conduct in not taking the bribe of five pounds from the agents of my opponent. For me now to pay them would be a violation of my own previously expressed principles."

  The smiling, hopeful faces assumed an air of affronted dignity. For a man who had just been elected to parliament to start talking about "principles" was sickening enough. But Cochrane had done the almost unheard of thing of getting himself elected without either bribery or an influential patron. The cost of rewarding his supporters on the first occasion was less than it would have cost him in bribes so that, financially and morally, he had outmanoeuvred his opponents. But, worst of all, he had triumphed at the expense of the voters in one of the most corrupt boroughs of England. The Honitonians already felt an uneasy suspicion that when the story spread, they would be a political laughing-stock. It might be many years before they could command the fat prices for their votes which they had enjoyed before the advent of Cochrane.42

  The men of the borough took such small revenge as lay in their power. Of course Cochrane would never be returned for Honiton again but, for the time being, they were content to persuade him that the least he could do would be to give a dinner for those who had elected him. To this he agreed. When the dinner took place, the electors brought their wives, relations, and friends, who included those who had voted for Cavendish Bradshaw. The dinner was "converted into a public treat", the entire borough eating and drinking itself into a stupor at the victor's expense. When the evening was over, Cochrane was presented with a bill for £1200. He refused to pay it and the money was eventually extracted from him, some years later, after a good deal of unpleasant litigation. For the time being, he was content to shake the dust of Honiton off his feet and prepare for battle in the House of Commons.43

  The Board of Admiralty and its civil servants learnt with dismay that Cochrane had succeeded in defeating the ministerial candidate at Honiton. Before they could recover themselves, he had set himself up in lodgings at Old Palace Yard, Westminster, and had opened the attack. A letter arrived for the attention of the Commissioners of the Admiralty on the subject of their refusal to promote the gallant Lieutenant Parker of the Speedy and Lieutenant Haswell, who had captured the Tapageuse in the Gironde. In Haswell’s case, the Admiralty had denied him a right to prize money as well as promotion. The Secretary to the Admiralty board replied evasively, whereupon Cochrane delivered a sharp reminder. He informed the Secretary that if there were any more prevarication over the promotion of the two lieutenants, "it would be my duty to bring before the House of Commons a partiality so detrimental to the interests of the navy".44

  Much as they might detest Cochrane, the men of the Admiralty were obliged to consider that he now entered the Commons as the hero of the Mediterranean and Biscay. It would be necessary to fight him sooner or later, but perhaps not over so small a matter as this. After five years of repeated refusal, their Lordships promoted Parker to the rank of commander and bestowed the same seniority on Haswell.

  Cochrane made no formal complaint about the injustice done to himself and his crew after the latest cruise of the Pallas. Most of the prize money due to the frigate depended on the Bordeaux wine seized from chasse-marees in the spring of 1806. But before the wine could even be brought ashore at Plymouth, customs officers boarded the Pallas to assess the duty on the cargo. The price offered to Cochrane for the wine was actually less than the duty which the authorities proposed to charge on it. In vain, he offered the wine, which was finest claret, to the Victualling Board, in order that it might be served out to the men of the fleet in place of beer. The Admiralty declined his offer of the gift. Determined that he and his men would not surrender the value of the prize for which they had fought so hard, Cochrane ordered that the bungs should be knocked out of the casks and the wine emptied overboard into Plymouth harbour.

  Seven pipes of the claret were spared, Cochrane arranging to pay duty on these and forward them to the cellars of his uncle, Basil Cochrane, late of the East India Company and now of Portman Square, in the fashionable residential area just north of Oxford Street. Following his election to Parliament, Cochrane drew on this supply for the dinners which he gave at his lodgings in Old Palace Yard.

  One of his guests was a clean-shaven young man with dark, receding hair, full face, and cold appraising eyes. The deceptive softness of his gaze concealed the calculating and keen intelligence of John Wilson Croker. The election of 1806 had given the Whigs a majority in the House of Commons, and Croker, as a Tory, had little to hope for. His malice as a literary reviewer was such that he went down in the history of English poetry as the man who killed John Keats, while Macaulay vowed that he detested Croker more than "cold boiled mutton".

  However, Croker showed an evident interest in naval affairs and Cochrane was only too glad to inform him of the abuses which bedevilled the efficient conduct of the war against France. Croker listened, sipped his wine, and remarked softly, "Superb claret." Cochrane continued to expound the problems of the war against France. Croker listened and then asked him if he would be so good as to let him have some of the excellent Bordeaux. Cochrane promised that he should have as much as he liked for no more than the cost of duty and bottling. Then the host returned eagerly to the discussion of naval affairs.

  In the spring of 1807, George III demanded an assurance from the Whig leaders that they would not press the issue of Catholic emancipation. They refused to give the pledge and were duly dismissed. The Tories, under the Duke of Portland, came in and confirmed their position by winning yet another general election a few months later. Now that his party was in power, Croker kept clear of Cochrane's dinner table. Shortly afterwards, the two men met in Whitehall, Cochrane amiable and talkative, Croker smooth and reserved. Despite their party difference, Cochrane thought they had interests in common. Croker remained cool and evasive. Cochrane inquired when Croker proposed to collect the "superb claret" which awaited him. Croker turned his pale face and cold eyes on the young captain. "Why, really," he said, "I have no use for it, my friends having supplied me more liberally than I have occasion for!"45

  The calculated insolence, with which Croker announced that Cochrane was henceforth not a friend of his, infuriated his companion. Cochrane had hardly time to congratulate him ironically on his newfound patrons and the quality of their wine when Croker turned on his heel and walked away, the hungry placeman whose enemies described his Irish origin as "of low birth" and the man himself as having "no p
rinciples". Chief among his new friends and patrons was the Wellesley family. It was his assiduous service to them which was to win him the appointment of First Secretary to the Admiralty in 1810, in succession to Wellington's brother. He was an implacable agent of official reprisals against Cochrane. Among those shadowy figures who made up the office of the Admiralty was another of Cochrane's acquaintances, the young Lord Palmerston. Palmerston had devoted himself consistently to politics and parliament since he and Cochrane studied under Dugald Stewart at Edinburgh. But unlike most of Stewart's pupils, Palmerston had embraced the Tory cause. He was rewarded in April 1807 when Portland appointed him a junior Lord of the Admiralty at the age of twenty-two.46

  As for parliament itself, the House of Commons was not due to begin the business of the new government until after Christmas. Autumn sittings were still unpopular and, as late as 1820, on the famous occasion of the Queen's trial, Creevey reported the "rage" of the House of Lords at being compelled to attend in October. "It interferes with everything - pheasant shooting, Newmarket, &c, &c." But when the new year came, there was still to be no chance for Cochrane to make his mark in the House of Commons. Instead, there came the demand from George III that the Whig government should not attempt to restore civil rights to Catholics. Once he had dismissed them from office, in favour of the minority Tory party, there was no means of continuing parliamentary business effectively until yet another election had been held. Before it took place, the Admiralty tried to remove Cochrane from parliamentary politics by ordering him to sea again.47