by Roy Adkins
TEN
CONFLICT AND COMMERCE
At the dinner at Tilsit, at which the Emperor of Russia & Buonaparte were present, the following Toast was given ‘The Freedom of the Seas’.
Diary entry by Joseph Farington for 27 July 18071
The start of 1807 not only saw the beginning of the disastrous loss of a foothold in South America, but a similar fiasco much closer to home. During the autumn of 1806 Turkey had become an ally of France, giving Napoleon a good land route to the East. This could only be cut by the British Navy at the Dardanelles - the narrow stretch of water separating Europe from Asia at Constantinople. Britain was reluctant to regard Turkey as an enemy and so sent a fleet to cruise the Dardanelles in the hope that a show of force would persuade the Turks to change their policy. As a last resort, the Turkish fleet at Constantinople could be destroyed to prevent them helping Napoleon’s armies to cross into Asia. It was a task requiring the kind of subtle diplomacy at which Sir Sidney Smith excelled. He also had extensive knowledge of Turkish waters and links with the Turks from the time of the siege of Acre, but he was out of favour with both the government and the Admiralty, and so Vice-Admiral Sir John Duckworth was to lead the mission instead. Duckworth was instructed to be guided in diplomatic matters by the British Ambassador at Constantinople, Charles Arbuthnot, who had little experience of diplomacy in the Middle East. Because Smith accompanied the force in a subordinate role as the admiral in charge of the rear division of the fleet, this led the Naval Chronicle to comment that Smith had been placed ‘not first, nor SECOND, but THIRD, in command of an expedition, of which he alone was competent to be the commander-in-chief’.2
The victory at Trafalgar had been an inspiration to the navy, but a tendency towards overconfidence now prevailed. Midshipman Crawford on board the Royal George commented that ‘if Mr. Arbuthnot and the Admiral [Duckworth] had any misgivings as to the issue of the coming enterprise, certain I am, that they were not shared by the inferior officers and men; not a doubt of the sufficiency of the force, or of its complete success, ever crossed their minds’.3 The fleet reached Turkish waters in early February 1807, and those officers familiar with the story of the siege of Troy in Homer’s Iliad were keenly aware of their surroundings, as Crawford noted:Off this classic coast, how many recollections of early years floated through my brain! - freshly and vividly recalling my schoolboy days, and renewing all those feelings of enthusiasm and delight with which the soul-stirring story of those countries is wont to inspire the youthful mind! Scarcely could I bring myself to believe that I beheld, indeed, the battle-field of the contending hosts of Ilion [Troy] and Greece! - the arena where fought the heroes, fabulous or real, of the master-bard! - that I was in the very waters that bathed the shores of immortal Troy!4
Almost immediately, however, disaster struck. While anchored at the mouth of the Dardanelles on the night of 14 February, one of the battleships caught fire. Crawford’s sleep was broken by the subsequent commotion: ‘Soon after I had turned in, I was suddenly roused by an alarm of fire. Jumping out of my hammock, I learned from the sentry in the cockpit that it was not the Royal George, but one of the squadron. I was dressed and on deck in a moment, when I saw volumes of dense smoke, illumined by occasional flashes of lurid flame, issuing from the stern-ports of the Ajax.’5 The fire rapidly took hold of the entire ship, as a lieutenant on board the Ajax recorded in an anonymous letter to the Naval Chronicle:At half past nine on the evening of that day, the Ajax took fire in the breadroom, and in ten minutes she was in a general blaze from stem to stern . . . when the first Lieutenant, and many others, broke open the door of the Surgeon’s cabin, the after bulk-head was burst down by the accumulated flames and smoke abaft it, and so rapidly made its progress through the cockpit, that it was with difficulty he could regain the ladder, and most of those who accompanied him were suffocated in the attempt. On reaching the quarter-deck he found the fire had out-run him, and Captain Blackwood agreeing with him that she was past all remedy, they both ran forward where the majority of people were assembled, calling most piteously on their God for that help they despaired of getting, although many boats were approaching them, so rapidly did the fire work its way forward, and [so they] leapt from the sprit-sail-yard.6
Boats from the surrounding ships were sent to pick up survivors as fast as possible, but the fire was so fierce that most were forced to jump over-board before they arrived. The lieutenant of the Ajax gave some details: ‘The Gunner, unhappy father! had thrown one child overboard, which was saved; but going down [below deck] for another, perished in the flames. Of forty-five Midshipmen of every description, about twenty are saved . . . Three Merchants of Constantinople were on board, two perished; also a Greek Pilot. One woman, out of three [on board], saved herself by following her husband with a child in his arms down a rope from the jib-boom-end . . . several people died after they were got on board the different ships, the rest are distributed among the squadron.’7
In all, about four hundred people were saved, but over two hundred and fifty lost their lives. The ship burned for a long time, watched by those aboard the nearby ships. Crawford observed that ‘after the fall of the masts, the smouldering hull long remained unmoved, nor did it drift until two o’clock in the morning, when, the light wind having veered a little more to the eastward, it was slowly borne towards the island of Tenedos, upon which it struck; and at five o’clock, a partial explosion of the magazine shattered to pieces what the fire had not consumed. Thus miserably perished the noble but ill-starred Ajax! - a most inauspicious omen for the success of our enterprise.’8 The ship being named after a Greek hero from Homer’s Iliad, some inevitably saw its loss so close to Troy as a bad omen, but it was much more serious that Duckworth’s fleet had lost one of its larger battleships before the first shot had been fired.
Five days afterwards the fleet sailed into the Dardanelles. Confined within a narrow stretch of water 38 miles long and at times less than a mile wide, the fleet was at the mercy of the currents flowing between the Black Sea and the Aegean, and sometimes had little room to manoeuvre. As the ships sailed up the Dardanelles they soon came under fire from Turkish shore batteries and warships, which Captain of Marines Thomas Marmaduke Wybourn on board the Repulse recorded the next day:This day [20 February] we arrived at Constantinople through a vortex of fire. I could never conceive much more experience. I often thought . . . I had seen service, but every shot I have seen for twelve years past, would not amount to half fired yesterday. We got under way by daylight on Thursday Morning, passed the two great Castles at the entrance, with but little loss and fought our way up till we came to the grand Key to the Capital 15 miles up - here we saw what even Mars [Roman god of war] himself might have trembled to behold, a narrow passage in the form of ’S’ dividing Europe from Asia, and so narrow one might fancy in approaching there was no inlet, - two immense Castles, situate on each point with Batteries on all sides, that threw shot from 40 to 60 pounds weight. After looking on this, I must not be thought a Coward if I declare I felt an unusual tremour at my heart, for I sincerely thought no power could save us.9
In this first stretch of the Dardanelles, the British ships ran the gauntlet of the shore batteries equipped with mortars that fired huge balls of granite and marble weighing up to 800 pounds. With such projectiles it did not require many direct hits to do a great deal of damage, as Wybourn witnessed: ‘To return was impossible . . . 700 pieces of Cannon opened upon us, the Ships were cut to pieces in their Ropes, Masts, and rigging. The smoke so thick they could not see to fire with precision - their large stone shot fell short, and passed over us, as second Ship - the first Ship was mawled dreadfully, and also the Royal George the 3rd Ship, the one received a shot which killed and wounded six men, and weighed 554 pounds, the other one of 640 pounds, I never heard of such a thing, and no doubt it would appear incredible at home.’10
Despite the damage, the fleet sailed by these forts without losing a ship and then passed relatively unprotected settle
ments along the shore. Duckworth’s instructions were to bombard the Turks until they surrendered their fleet if diplomatic negotiations failed, and so firing was directed at these towns. Wybourn recorded the result: ‘The strong wind [that] we had soon cleared the first three ships of the danger, then what a sight presented itself. Round the Castle were towns two miles long: as the other ships and the two bombs [bomb vessels] came through we had nothing to do for half an hour but look on; the slaughter on shore was beyond all calculation, the houses flew in thousands of pieces, never was anything so dreadfully awful.’11
The fleet next encountered more serious opposition from Turkish ships backed up by shore batteries, and Sir Sidney Smith at the rear was ordered to use his three battleships and a frigate to deal with this, while the rest of the fleet sailed on to Constantinople. Smith’s ships were remarkably successful, as he informed Duckworth:In reporting to you the entire completion of the service you were pleased to order should be executed by the rear division under my immediate directions, I need not inform you that the ships were anchored in the thick of the Turkish squadron, and in close action with them, as you must have observed it; but as the intervention of the land, after you passed the point, prevented your seeing the subsequent operations, it is my duty to acquaint you therewith. The Turks fought desperately, like men determined to defend themselves and their ships as long as they could; but the superiority of our fire, within musket-shot, obliged them in half an hour to run on shore.12
Having put the Turkish ships temporarily out of action, Smith followed up the advantage by attacking the shore batteries. With control of the beach, he landed seamen and marines to destroy the ships and shore batteries, in the process of which they took many prisoners. Smith had orders not to keep prisoners, who were released once the Turkish opposition was neutralised, as he told Duckworth: ‘The whole of the Turks were landed, in pursuance of your orders, including the wounded, with due attention to the sufferings of our misguided opponents, as I must call them; for the term enemy does not seem applicable, considering their evident good disposition towards us nationally.’13 In all, Smith’s small force destroyed nine Turkish ships, two gunboats and a large shore battery of thirty-one cannons, but it was not as easy a victory as the measured prose of Smith’s report to Duckworth suggested. On board the Repulse, Marine Captain Wybourn set down his own version of events:We now approached a point of three fronts and which had kept up a triangular fire with the Castles some time, the Channel led us inevitably to pass this enormous Battery also, when lo! as we turned a corner, we discovered ten men of War, with all broad sides turned to us & which we passed within a few yards of. What did the noble Sir Sidney [Smith] do, but run with two ships in between them all, and so astonished them, that our 3 first Ships passed with little damage from them. Our signal was now made to assist Sir Sidney, when we engaged a 64 and one point of the villainous Battery for one hour: now was the sport of the day at issue, thank God we were out of the reach of those frightful Castles and granite shot. The Turks took panic - they never think of quarter as they do not give it, they began to jump overboard. Cables were cut by our shot, the ships ran on shore, we now boarded & saved the people, and the day was our own. The Admiral had run with his squadron of about 6 Ships into a Bay out of danger - and we four ships took, and destroyed a squadron of 10. We made signals of victory, and the Admiral ordered all the prizes to be burnt. Alas! Money out of my pocket, but he had other objects.14
Wybourn, and doubtless many others on board Smith’s ships, lamented the loss of prize money when the captured Turkish ships were destroyed rather than being sailed back to a British port to be sold. As a captain of marines, Wybourn was entitled to a share of one-eighth of the value of all prizes taken by his ship, divided up among captains of marines, captains of soldiers and ship’s lieutenants and masters. A fixed scale distributed the prize money between all the officers and men who took part in the action, so in this case any prize money would be divided between the four ships involved. If the ships were acting under orders from an admiral, he would also receive a share, and if they were particularly successful, admirals could become very rich men without lifting a finger. Until 1808 admirals stood to receive an eighth of the value of all prize ships captured under their orders, but then the scales were changed and an admiral’s share was reduced from one-eighth to one-twelfth. The seamen were known to grumble that the musket shot and cannonballs ought to be distributed in the same proportion as the prize money, with the largest share going to the officers, but in many battles the officers were at greater risk because their sense of honour did not allow them to take cover, whereas the men thought it sensible to duck behind a cannon to avoid incoming shot. The only officer about whom such grumbles were frequently valid was the commanding admiral, who received his share even if he was miles away from the action and did not know about it until afterwards.
Smith was forced to burn his prize ships because he could not spare any men to form the skeleton crews that would normally be detached to sail the prizes back to British territory. He needed every man he had, as Wybourn was well aware: ‘The Turks covered the hills & country for miles around - we destroyed the Battery of above 50 Guns, took above 3,000 prisoners, and liberated them, to their wonder and amazement - and they perhaps, or even ourselves, never beheld a sight as grand as all their ships on fire, and blowing up one after another. We now joined the Admiral, and fought our way without much difficulty past Gallipoli, into the sea of Marmora, and were safe at eight o’clock for the present. Took something to eat, cracked our jokes and laid down for a Nap, but who could sleep?’15
The entire fleet anchored together late in the evening of 20 February, but without the advice of Smith, who knew the locality very well, Duckworth had made a fatal mistake. In his report written the next day he glossed over the problem: ‘The squadron . . . came to anchor at ten o’clock, near Prince’s Island, about eight miles from Constantinople, when I dispatched Captain Capel, in the Endymion, to anchor near the town, if the wind, which was light, would permit the ship to stem the current, to convey the ambassador’s despatches to the Sublime Porte in the morning, by a flag of truce; but he found it impracticable to get within four miles, and consequently, anchored at half-past eleven P.M.’16 In sailing towards Constantinople Duckworth’s ships should have kept to the western side of the channel, but they had anchored on the east and found that without a strong following wind they were prevented by the fierce current from approaching the opposite shore. The whole point of the mission was for a strong naval force to threaten the Turkish fleet at Constantinople, as well as the city itself, in order to provide leverage for diplomatic negotiations in Britain’s favour. It was exactly the same bullying strategy that had been successful for Parker and Nelson at Copenhagen nearly six years earlier, but now and in subsequent days there were at best only light breezes, and no chance of Duckworth’s ships moving within range of the Turkish fleet.
At first the Turks refused to negotiate at all, and then prevaricated as much as possible, aware that all the available time could be used to strengthen their fortifications and take other defensive measures. On 3 March, when it had become obvious that the city had become too well defended for an attack to succeed, Duckworth abandoned negotiations. He led his ships back through the Dardanelles to the open sea, and although the fleet was sailing with the current and had a following wind to speed the ships along, the Turkish batteries were waiting for them, as Crawford in the Royal George related:We now found that the enemy fired with much more precision than upon our ascent; for, though we were borne along with great velocity, the squadron was struck more frequently, and suffered more than it did upon its upward passage. By noon it had cleared the Dardanelles, and soon after anchored between Tenedos and the main. The Royal George had three men killed, her first lieutenant and twenty-seven men wounded, in the descent of the passage. These casualties were chiefly caused by a huge stone-shot, that struck the upper sill of the third quarter deck port from forward, and
with the surmounting hammocks, swept every man from the gun, and tearing away in its course the whole of the bulwark between the two opposite guns, expended its remaining force in the water. I watched this monster-shot almost from the cannon’s mouth till it struck the ship; and, so little swift was its flight that, had it come in the direction in which I stood, I should have had time to avoid it. Indeed, the whole scene on shore more resembled the bursting of some mountain’s side, which, vexed and torn by the throes of a laboring volcano, vomits forth, in fire and smoke, fragments of rock and iron, than the sharp, quick fire of a well-served battery.17
In the end, the British gained nothing from this expensive venture, and it was left to the Russian allies of Britain, with a fleet under Admiral Dmitri Seniavin, to blockade the Dardanelles. On 1 July the Russians finally removed the threat by defeating the Turkish fleet, in a battle known to them as the ‘Russian Trafalgar’.While the Admiralty reacted on an ad hoc basis to specific threats, such as the changing loyalties of the Turks, the blockade of French ports remained relentless, disrupting French merchant shipping and trade. In response to Napoleon’s Continental System, Britain placed restrictions on neutral vessels, and in turn Napoleon declared it illegal for a neutral vessel to comply with these British regulations: America was caught in the middle. Neutral American merchant ships were circumventing the blockade of French ports by re-exporting goods from the French West Indies to Europe, resulting in a dramatic surge in business for America. The Royal Navy caused deep resentment in America by seizing the ships that were involved in this re-export business, but attempts to resolve the various problems between America and Britain failed, and Anglo-American relations rapidly deteriorated.