Sir Edward Hawke commanded the fleet—a man of steady courage, of fair appearance, and who even did not want a plausible kind of sense; but he was really weak, and childishly abandoned to the guidance of a Scotch secretary. The next was Knowles, a vain man, of more parade than real bravery. Howe, brother of the Lord of that name, was the third on the naval list. He was undaunted as a rock, and as silent; the characteristics of his whole race. He and Wolfe soon contracted a friendship like the union of a cannon and gunpowder.
September 20th.—The Fleet appeared off the isle of Oleron; but it was the 23rd before they got in. Knowles, the Vice-Admiral, with his division, was ordered to attack the little isle of Aix. Howe, who led this detachment, sailed up with a steady magnanimity without firing till within pistol-shot of the fort. Greaves followed, and Keppel pressed forward to get in between them: Knowles kept a little more distant. Howe began a dreadful fire, and in less than two hours the garrison surrendered. Conway pressed them to proceed immediately on some further enterprise, and proposed directly to go and consult Sir Edward Hawke, who lay more out at sea. Knowles replied, that he was so fatigued that he could not go till next morning; when he reposed himself till ten. When Conway got him to Sir Edward Hawke’s ship, they found Sir Edward had sent Broderick with their only pilot to see where they could land—and these men did not return till noon. Mordaunt appeared incapable of forming any opinion, and said he was ready to take any officer’s advice.
In this dilemma they called a Council of War. In their deliberation, it appeared that Clarke, and Thierri, a French Pilot, had not seen Rochfort in three years and half: it was longer since the latter was there: that the nature of the road of Basques, the country, the state of the troops and garrison, were entirely unknown to them: that the expedition had been projected on the sole footing of a surprise, a view now entirely vanished, for our troops had lain near two months in the Isle of Wight, and many letters and neutral vessels had been intercepted, which spoke the alarm spread along the coast: that no man of war could lie within two miles of the landing to assist that or secure a retreat; and that if the wind came to the west, as was usual at that season, all communication with the Fleet would be cut off; a point recommended to them to guard against by the express instructions of Marshal Ligonier: that there were sand-hills on the shore equivalent to an entrenchment, from behind which a small body of men might prevent a descent of 2000 men, the most the boats could contain at a time; and that even more troops than were sufficient for that purpose had been seen by the captains who went to sound and reconnoitre the coast: and what was even more discouraging than all these impediments, the chief engineer declared that they had not brought artillery sufficient for a regular attack.
As to Rochfort, many difficulties were foreseen from the state of the place; and considering how long the fleet had lain off the coast, it was highly probable that not only the approach was guarded in a manner to have our troops cut to pieces, as they must have landed in small divisions; but that a strong garrison must have been thrown into the place, if not provided with one before. Bonville, a French volunteer, declared there were sluices with which they could flow the place all round; and he and the pilot of the Neptune had seen the ditch full of water. The dock-men were numerous, and five ships lay in the river, whose crews amounted to near 3000 men; besides the Militia of the country. We should have been two days marching to the place, and could have carried up to it but 7400 men. The nights were as light as day; and a letter found in a Priest’s house at Aix, dated from Rochfort on the 18th, spoke expressly of the precautions the Governor had taken.
No reasonable man could hope to surmount all these difficulties. Those, who had carried the same opinion from home with them, were not likely to find the objections weaker when mustered together on the spot. Both land and sea concurred in voting the surprisal of Rochfort impracticable, and then would have returned to England; but Conway, who the evening before had proposed to make themselves masters of Fouras, a little fort on the shore, where, when once established, they might examine what further damage could be done to the enemy, persuaded the Council that it was necessary to do something before they retired. To that they all agreed except Cornwallis, who had seen no attainable object, or none worth attaining, from the beginning to the end of the plan. Yet, that he might not stand single in a vote for retreating, he was induced to acquiesce:—however, Sir Edward Hawke’s secretary, who took the minutes of the deliberation, inserted Cornwallis’s real opinion into their votes, and without reading them to the Council, sent them to the English Admiralty, by whom they were shown to the King; and what Cornwallis’s associates had advised him to depart from, lest it might turn to his prejudice, was, after their return, construed into the only sensible opinion.
Conway renewed his proposal of an attack on Fouras, as, when once entrenched there, they might with more preparation march to Rochfort; or at least from thence hope to burn the five ships and the magazines on the Charente. Nobody approved the scheme. In these discussions three or four days were wasted. Conway perpetually pressed for some action—at last Mordaunt said carelessly, “Ay, let us go stretch our legs on the Isle of Oleron.” Conway said, a feigned diversion towards the Isle of Rhée would be more advisable; it would draw the French troops, who by this time must be alarmed, to that side; and then some surprise might be practicable. To this the rest would not agree. Conway then offered to make a real attack on the Isle of Oleron: they disputed on it till two in the morning; and though the first proposal had come from the others, he could not obtain their acquiescence. They wasted time even in dining; Sir Edward Hawke’s table lasted till late in the evening. Conway’s[10] importunity at last prevailed for an attack on Fouras; and all the Generals, to show that want of spirit had not operated in their Councils, resolved to be present. The first division embarked, but being moonlight, and the nights clear, and the wind turning against them, Howe himself told them it was not safe at that time; and Wolfe pronounced it would be bloody work. They were ordered back from their boats. Yet Conway persisting for an attempt on Fouras, Mordaunt offered to undertake it, if Conway would take the advice solely on himself. Conway, eager for the danger, was averse to being the author of it. Mordaunt then artfully desired him to relinquish proposing it. Neither to that would he yield. Mordaunt solicited him with strange earnestness, either to abandon the project, or to undertake it as his own; Mordaunt offering to share the danger of the execution, not of the opinion. Conway at last said, if Mordaunt would call Wolfe and any other man, and they would advise him to advise the attack he would; or if they advised him to desist from proposing it, he would; but either Mordaunt declined—in truth, it was a contest to be pitied rather than blamed: both saw the rashness of the project, to which they were willing to sacrifice themselves and their soldiers. Mordaunt, from esteem of Conway’s abilities, hoped to be excused if he executed what the latter advised—and the latter was too happy in not being commanding officer, to take that charge upon himself in a hopeless bravado. Conway then proposed to submit to the same alternative from the opinions of Cornwallis and Howard; to which the General acquiesced; and they, as he foresaw, concurring with him, Conway submitted, but desired they would observe, he acquiesced against his opinion—and it was determined to return, Sir Edward Hawke having often pressed the Generals to come to some resolution, the bad season approaching so near that he could not venture to keep the great ships much longer at sea. Wolfe and Howe had borne the dilatoriness of the chief commanders with indignation; yet seeing the minute lost, made no objection to a retreat; and the Fleet arrived at Portsmouth October 3rd—in the meantime, many important events had happened.
In the East Indies, the fleet under Admiral Watson retrieved the damages inflicted on our settlements by a new Nabob, of which we had received notice in the preceding June. That Viceroy had seized Cossimbuzar and Calcutta; the cruelties exercised on the factory in the latter place, where 170 persons were crammed into a dungeon, and stifled in the most shocking torments of heat, will not bear to be described to a good-natured reader. Watson was seconded by Captain Clive, one of those extraordinary men, whose great soul broke out under all the disadvantages of an ugly and contemptible person.
In the north of Germany, affairs had taken a favourable turn for the King of Prussia. Lehwald, one of his Generals, defeated a mighty army of Russians, who, in the most barbarian style, were pouring into Prussia. The Germans, whatever they pretended, were not cheaply conquerors. But the consequences of the battle were decisive; the Muscovites disappeared from the campaign for the rest of the summer.
The Duke of Cumberland, after the battle of Hastenbecke, had retired with his army towards Stade, and was followed by the French. The Duchies of Bremen and Verden were at the eve of falling into their hands, and the King expected that they would be given back to Sweden. The Hanoverian Ministry did not doubt but the Duke’s high spirit would venture the Army being cut to pieces rather than surrender them prisoners, and they complained of the scanty assistance afforded by England. Lady Yarmouth even said to Lord Hertford, “Que peut on faire, my Lord! le Ministere Anglois ne nous a voulu donner que quelque tonneaux de farine.” The truth was, the King, to avoid expense, had neglected to raise the Militia of Hanover, though they had implored it, and might have given a decisive turn to the battle in his favour. Both the Sovereign and his German Council were determined at all events to save the Duchies and the troops, and the most positive orders were dispatched to the Duke in consequence of those resolutions. Yet, not trusting to what conditions his son, however obedient, might obtain, his Majesty prevailed on his son-in-law, the King of Denmark, to interpose his good offices, and accordingly, on the 7th of September, Count Lynar, Governor of Oldenburg, arrived in the Duke’s camp as mediator, and a passport being demanded for him from Marshal Richelieu, the latter sent it with an escort of a hundred horse, and by the next day a convention was obtained and signed, by which Stade and the district round it was left to the Hanoverians, with permission to the rest of those troops to repass the Elbe, observing a strict neutrality. The troops of Hesse, Brunswick, Saxe-Gotha, &c., in the King’s pay, were to retire to their several countries.