by Roy Adkins
At this point the British had the upper hand, despite the continuing bombardment of the Rock from the French ships, and Boyer recounted how the spearhead of the French attack was trapped in two caves not far above sea-level:Our situation was truly dreadful; we were exhausted with fatigue, and the want of nourishment was more severely felt by the troops, who had been prevented by the sea sickness from taking any for the two preceding days that they were on board the ships. The boats had not had time to land any provisions, nor could we expect they would run the risk of bringing us any. The enemy too had by now, by the quantity of shot and stones which they continued to direct at us, cut off the communication between the two caverns, notwithstanding their vicinity to each other: in short, to add to the horrors of this calamitous scene, we had nothing to offer our wounded, of whom some were in a most deplorable state, but barren consolations.13
Commander Maurice related that they could do little to stop the French bringing in more supplies under cover of darkness:At night the whole of the men [of the garrison] were posted on different lodgements, to harass the enemy as they threw in supplies and reinforcements: on the 1st [ June] the enemy’s squadron employed constantly bombarding the Rock, the fire from the troops much more spirited: on the 2nd the enemy’s squadron bombarding as before, who had been reinforced with another brig, but the fire from the troops this day very severe, as they had during the night got under the rocks in the surf, and were covered by the overhanging rocks, and as our men appeared they fired up. 14
The British still had plenty of food, but after suffering nearly two and a half days of bombardment, they were running out of ammunition, and the shortage of water was becoming serious, so while his men still had enough strength to climb down from the summit, Maurice realised that the only option was to negotiate a surrender:
At four in the afternoon [of 2 June], on examining into our ammunition, I found we had but little powder left, and not a sufficient quantity of ball cartridges to last until dark, and being firmly of the opinion the enemy meant to endeavour to carry the heights by assault that night, I thought it a duty I owed to those brave fellows who had so gallantly supported me during three days and two nights constant battle, to offer terms of capitulation; and having consulted my first Lieutenant, who was of the same opinion, at half-past four, the unhappiest moment of my life, I threw out a flag of truce, which returned at five, with honourable terms for the garrison, and the next morning we embarked [as prisoners-of-war] on board the Pluton and Berwick.15
With direct orders from Napoleon that Diamond Rock, which had proved such an irritation and insult to the French on Martinique, should be captured, Boyer was at pains to exaggerate the achievements of the French and play down the difficulties that the British garrison faced:The number of effective men [in the British garrison] amounted to 107, one half of whom were sent on board the Pluton, and the other on board the Berwick. I inspected the whole of the Rock, and had the two 18-pounders at the top of it thrown into the sea, as well as the platform, and all the powder and shot; I also cut down one of the flag-staffs, leaving only that on which the French colours were flying. To judge from the great quantity of powder, shot, water and provisions of all kinds, which we found in the different cavities near the summit of the Rock, it would be supposed that the enemy could have held out much longer. The prodigious buildings which they had constructed, evidently prove that they considered themselves as well established here. I cannot even yet conceive how they should be so soon dislodged - it required, no doubt, Frenchmen to do it . . . From a hasty calculation, I am afraid we have to regret the loss of 50 men, both killed and wounded, which is certainly great, when we reflect that it is so many brave men who have fallen; but from the difficulty of the enterprise, we might have calculated upon a much greater one.16
On the British side two men were killed and one wounded, but all had suffered from the effects of the heat and lack of water, as Maurice recorded:Their fatigue and hardships are beyond description, having only a pint of water during 24 hours, under a vertical sun, and not a moment’s rest day or night; and several of them fainted for want of water, and obliged to drink their own. A schooner had brought out sixty scaling ladders, to attempt us that night under cover of the ships, and four more ships of the line were to have come against us the next day. Indeed the whole of the combined squadron’s launches were employed on the service, and not less than three thousand men . . . My only consolation is, that although I unfortunately lost the Rock, I trust its defence was honourable. 17
Taking Diamond Rock was Vice-Admiral Villeneuve’s greatest victory, and he hoped it would restore him to Napoleon’s favour, since the emperor had been enraged by his taking so long to break through the blockade at Toulon. The assault on the Rock had depleted the stores on board the French ships, but Villeneuve decided his next objective would be the capture of Antigua and Barbuda. On 8 June, however, before he reached these islands, he came across a British convoy carrying sugar, which he promptly captured. Although this was a rich prize, it also carried the bad news for Villeneuve that Nelson was in the Caribbean with eleven warships and seven frigates. Short of supplies, with his ships in need of repair and now with many crewmen sick, the last thing Villeneuve wanted was a pitched battle with Nelson: two days later the French sailed for Europe.
The captured ships from the convoy were sent to Martinique escorted by a French frigate, but soon after parting company from Villeneuve they ran into two British sloops. These were not a danger in themselves, but the jittery French took them to be scouts for Nelson’s fleet and burned all fifteen of the merchant ships to prevent their being returned to the enemy. Even before he had finally left the vicinity of the West Indies, a large part of Villeneuve’s success had turned to ashes on the water.
Once Nelson heard of the return of the French to Europe, he set off in hot pursuit, and just as in the chase to Egypt before the Battle of the Nile, Nelson’s fleet unknowingly overtook the French. Nelson had taken a southerly route that eventually brought him to Gibraltar, but Villeneuve had steered north and on 22 July was intercepted by a British fleet commanded by Vice-Admiral Sir Robert Calder. The encounter was blanketed in fog, and the resulting battle inconclusive, although both sides claimed victory. Villeneuve lost two Spanish ships to the British, but managed to reach the safety of Vigo in north-west Spain, and Calder was later censured for not doing more to stop the French. Napoleon was furious, ranting: ‘What a chance Villeneuve has missed! He could, on arriving at Brest from the open sea, have played prisoners’ base [a popular game] with Calder’s squadron . . . defeat the English and gain a decided supremacy.’18 His achievements in the Caribbean were ignored, and again Villeneuve remained out of favour with his emperor.
Since Vigo had no resources to refit his ships or cope with the large number of men needing hospital treatment, he took his fleet south along the Spanish coast, arriving at Cadiz on 21 August. The weak British blockade of that port was soon strengthened, and the scene was now set for the Battle of Trafalgar, which would take place two months later when Villeneuve sailed from Cadiz.
While Nelson had been fruitlessly pursuing Villeneuve across the Atlantic and back, Thomas Cochrane had captured a string of prizes. The previous year the government fell and his enemy St Vincent was replaced as First Lord of the Admiralty by Lord Melville, who appointed Cochrane to the new frigate Pallas, with orders to cruise off the Azores. In early March Pallas caused a sensation by sailing into Plymouth with huge golden candlesticks lashed to the masts. The prize money from his spoil amounted to around £300,000, most of which was generated by capturing a single ship, the Fortuna, as reported by the Naval Chronicle:The Pallas, Captain Lord Cochrane, on his late Cruise off the Coast of Spain and Portugal, fell in with and took la Fortuna, a Spanish Ship, from Rio de la Plata, to Corunna, richly laden with Specie, (Gold and Silver) to the amount of £150,000, and about the same sum in valuable Goods and Merchandise, in all near 300,000 dollars value. When the Spanish Captain came on board wit
h the Supercargo, who was a Merchant and Passenger from New Spain, they appeared much dejected, as their private property on board was lost, which amounted to 30,000 dollars each person, in Specie and Goods. The Papers and Manifest of the Cargo of la Fortuna being examined, the Spaniards told Lord Cochrane that they had Families in Old Spain, and had now lost all their property, the hard earnings by commerce in the burning clime of South America, the savings of nearly 20 years . . . Both the Spaniards appeared to feel their forlorn situation so much, that Lord Cochrane felt for them; and with that generosity ever attendant on true bravery, consulted his Officers as to the propriety of returning each of these two Gentlemen to the value of 5000 dollars of their property, in specie, which was immediately agreed to be done . . . On this his Lordship ordered the Boatswain to pipe all hands on deck, and addressed the Seamen and Royal Marines with much feeling, and in a plain seamanlike way stated the above facts. On this the gallant Fellows, with one voice, sung out, ‘Aye, aye, my Lord, with all our hearts!’ and gave three cheers. The Spaniards were overcome with this noble instance of the generosity of British Seamen, and actually shed tears of joy, at the prospect of once more being placed in a state of independence.19
Cochrane himself had sorted through some of the spoils of his victories, recording some material that was rejected: ‘In one of the captured vessels was a number of bales, marked “invendebles”. Making sure of some rich prize, we opened the bales, which to our chagrin consisted of pope’s bulls, dispensations for eating meat on Fridays, and indulgences for peccadilloes of all kinds, with the price affixed. They had evidently formed a venture from Spain to the Mexican sin market, but the supply exceeding the demand, had been reconsigned to the manufacturers. We consigned them to the waves.’20
For the rest of 1805 Cochrane was involved in escorting a convoy to Canada, but in Britain the people became increasingly worried about an invasion happening soon. It was not until 9 August that some of the terror was dissipated, when newspapers reported that Nelson was back from the West Indies. There was a general feeling that a significant battle was imminent and that Nelson would triumph. The only doubt was when the battle would take place; the only worry, that the French would yet again give Nelson the slip.
The confidence that Nelson would eventually meet and beat the French did not altogether allay concern about the invasion fleet at Boulogne, especially as Napoleon was known to be there himself. Newspapers, while still giving detailed accounts of the minimal successes of British attacks on Boulogne, also tried to defuse the tension with humour, and The Times published a satirical version of a speech from Shakespeare’s Hamlet:BUONAPARTE’s SOLILOQUY
ON THE CLIFF AT BOULOGNE
T’invade, or not t’invade - that is the question -
Whether ’tis nobler in my soul, to suffer
Those haughty Islanders to check my power,
Or to send forth my troops upon their coast,
And by attacking, crush them. - T’invade - to fight -
No more; - and by a fight, to say I end
The glory, and the thousand natural blessings
That England’s heir to; - ’tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish’d. - To invade - to fight -
To fight - perchance to fail: - Ay, there’s the rub;
For in that failure, what dire fate may come,
When they have shuffled off from Gallia’s shore,
Must give me pause. - There’s the respect,
That makes me thus procrastinate the deed:
For would I bear the scoff and scorn of foes,
The oppressive thought of English liberty,
The pangs of despis’d threats, th’attempts delay,
The insolence of Britain, and the spurns,
That I impatient and unwilling take,
When I myself might head the plund’ring horde,
And grasp at conquest? Would I tamely bear
To groan and sweat under a long suspence,
But that the dread of something after battle,
That undecided trial, from whose hazard
I never may return, - puzzles my will,
And makes me rather bear unsated vengeance,
Than fly from Boulogne at the risk of all.
And thus my native passion of ambition
Is clouded o’er with sad presaging thought:
And this momentous, tow’ring enterprise,
With this regard, is yearly turn’d aside,
And waits the name of action.21
The Admiralty was taking the threat from Boulogne more seriously, and through the summer of 1805 Sir Sidney Smith pressed for an attack on the port using the new technology of Fulton’s torpedoes and Congreve’s rockets, but he met with some resistance. The rockets were the invention of William Congreve, but while they could terrify the enemy, they were unpredictable and often regarded as no more than expensive fireworks. Louis Simond, a Frenchman brought up in America who lived for a time in England, described them asmade like common rockets [fireworks], only of an enormous size. The cylinder, or case of iron, contains 20 or 30 pounds of powder, rammed hard, and the fore-part loaded with balls. The rocket is impelled by its own recoil. It is held, in the first instance, by a pole 20 or 25 feet long, sloping to the proper angle like a mortar. The pole is carried away by the rocket, and keeps in its proper direction like the feather of an arrow. But when the wind blows strong with it, or sidewise, the pole or tail is apt to steer the wrong course; and the rockets go right only against the wind, or with no wind.22
Fulton’s torpedoes were also regarded with suspicion, because they had already failed to live up to their promise when used at Boulogne earlier in the year. Many doubted that they were even capable of sinking a ship, so a practical demonstration was arranged off Walmer in Kent for the middle of October, which the Annual Register reported:An experiment of a newly-invented machine for destroying ships at anchor was tried in the Downs, and succeeded in the most complete manner. A large brig was anchored abreast of Walmer-castle, about three quarters of a mile from the shore. Two or three gallies then rowed off, and placed the machine across the cable of the brig, which, by the running of the tide, was soon forced under her bottom, about the centre of the keel, where it attaches itself. In a few minutes, the clockwork of the machinery having performed its operation, a small cloud of smoke was seen to rise from the vessel, which in a moment after was blown to atoms, without any noise or appearance of fire. In about 27 or 28 seconds, not a vestige of the brig was to be seen, as the fragments were then level with the water’s edge . . . a number of military and naval officers, went with Sir Sidney Smith to Mr. Pitt’s37, at Walmer-castle, to witness the experiment, and expressed the utmost astonishment at the destructive power of the invention.23
Despite continuing opposition from some senior admirals, the demonstration was successful, and Smith was given permission to make an attack on Boulogne, even though by now Napoleon had removed much of his invasion army to counter threats to his eastern borders. Midshipman Crawford of the Immortalité was still part of the blockade and saw the build-up to the attack: ‘In November, Commodore Sir Sidney Smith arrived off Boulogne with his squadron, and assumed the command. The force, when united, consisted of twenty-five sail, which did not include three explosion-boats and a mortar-ketch. Of this number five were bombs; the remainder were vessels of all descriptions. Several fire-vessels joined afterwards, which swelled our force to more than thirty sail, enough to alarm the whole flotilla; and, in truth, our new commander seemed bent on desperate deeds.’24
The plan was to burn the invasion flotilla, and it was obvious even to the anxious French in Boulogne that the vessels in Smith’s fleet were of types used to set fire to or blow up closely grouped ships and boats. Crawford noted that ‘after the vessels had all assembled, few preparations were necessary . . . all now depended on the weather’.25 This was the crucial factor, for the fireships and explosion vessels needed a good following wind from the right direction because
they travelled the last part of their voyage without men on board to steer. Over the next few days several attempted attacks were made, but the weather was against them - eitherthe wind failed at a crucial point, leaving the attack becalmed, or the weather was too stormy for it to have any chance of success.
The Immortalité continued patrol duties with specific orders to intercept two French frigates, since there was information from spies that these ships were about to set out from Flushing. The situation then changed dramatically, as Crawford related:It was during this cruise that we first heard of the mighty victory of Trafalgar: a victory of such vital importance at the time to England, neutralizing in some degree the consequences of the vast successes of the French upon the continent; and I can well remember how much the pride and exultation, which we should otherwise have felt at our country’s success, were saddened and subdued by the irreparable loss of her favourite hero. Instead of shouts and songs of triumph and [con]gratulation, the subject was mentioned in broken whispers, and all seemed to feel, not only that some great national calamity had befallen the land, but as if each individual had lost a friend and leader, with whom it would have been the happiness of his life to serve and follow.26
Like Crawford, almost everybody in Britain was to remember where they were and what they were doing when they first heard of the victory at Trafalgar and the death of Nelson. The battle had been fought off Cape Trafalgar, on the Spanish coast between Cadiz and Gibraltar, on 21 October 1805, but the news did not reach London until 6 November and took much longer to spread through Europe and reach outlying ships and colonies. A combined fleet of eighteen French and fifteen Spanish battleships led by Vice-Admiral Villeneuve had broken out from Cadiz and was confronted by Nelson’s fleet of twenty-seven battleships. Although the British were outnumbered in ships, guns and men, Nelson adopted a daring strategy of dividing his fleet into two columns that sailed at right-angles to the battle line of French and Spanish ships, rather than forming the traditional parallel line of battle. The danger of this strategy was that during their approach, the British ships were under heavy fire without being able to retaliate with anything other than a few guns mounted in the bows. Once the British ships reached the enemy line, however, the effect was devastating as the whole formation deteriorated into a confused mass. Nelson’s captains had been briefed to act on their own initiative, whereas the French and Spanish were forced to do so in the absence of instructions from their commander, because they could no longer read his signals amid the clouds of smoke. Also, the leading ships of the French and Spanish line had been cut off from the main group by Nelson’s column of ships, and it was with great difficulty that they managed to turn round and join the battle. By this time the British had won.38