I am assured, that there are in the dock-yard here three covered docks, under which the workmen can carry on their operations in all weathers.
An experiment, of covering by a strong wooden case the rudders of ships to the water’s edge, which leaves them only just room to work, is now trying on two or three of their frigates. It is intended to prevent the rudder from being unshipped, if struck by a sea.
The ponderous guns with which they used to overload their ships are displaced for others of a size more manageable. No ship now carries heavier metal than a French 36-pounder. Their first rates have sixteen ports on the upper and middle deck, and fifteen on the lower, except La Montagne, whose upper and middle deck are pierced with seventeen ports, and her lower with sixteen; so that, exclusive of those on her quarter-deck and forecastle (twenty in number) she mounts exactly 100 guns. They do not, however, in any of their ships, turn their quarter-decks to so much advantage as they might. In this ship the five aftermost and most useful ports are blocked up by standing cabins, and have no guns provided for them.
When the fleet weighs anchor, each ship’s signal to heave up is made in succession. This method prevents the confusion which we experience in weighing all together; but, on the other hand, it precludes that emulation to be first, which a competition causes; they are accordingly very tedious in performing this operation.
Official bulletins of all public events, which the convention find it their interest to promulge, are printed on board La Montagne, from a copy transmitted from Paris, and distributed, at the expence of the government, to the officers and seamen of every ship. This is a popular measure, which wonderfully flatters the lower orders, who deem themselves in possession of all the secrets of state, and conclude that politics are no longer a mystery. I frequently read these chronicles, which are always filled with details of victories over their foreign enemies, and addresses to the convention from the departments. I was greatly diverted in reading one of the latter, from the “Popular Society” at Brest, on the occasion of the Alexander’s colours being presented to the convention, by the Major of Admiral Nieully’s squadron, who was dispatched expressly to Paris on this important mission.—“Behold,” says the orator, “Pitt himself virtually brought to the bar of the convention, when the British banner is prostrated before your august assembly!” Notwithstanding this flourish, and fifty more of the same sort, I am told that the inhabitants are strongly suspected of incivism, and closely watched.
It has been customary to extol the French signals, as superior to our own; but any man capable of judging, who will compare the two codes, must be convinced, that those now in use in the English fleet are more simple in their principle, more exact in their arrangement, and more easy in their comprehension. The French were long our masters in this art, which lately our naval officers have certainly carried beyond them. Their superior dexterity in making and answering them must not be confounded with the signals themselves. In this respect, from being earlier and more closely trained, I fear it will be found (though with many exceptions on our side) that they surpass us. There is on board every French ship a class of youths, called pilotins, who attend solely to this part of naval duty. They are placed under the direction of an experienced quarter-master, and hold a rank immediately below that of midshipman, into which body they are promoted from time to time, according to their merit.
Of their deficiency of naval stores every day furnishes me with fresh proofs. The ships by which we were taken had, after a cruize of a few weeks, scarcely a coil of rope to repair their running rigging, or a stick to supply any loss which a sudden gust of wind might have occasioned. But how desperate must the state of France have been, had the American convoy been intercepted by Admiral Montagu! You know already in part my sentiments on that extraordinary failure. Let me now give you fresh cause for amazement; but remember, that I quote the words of another person without asperity, and without pretending to assign to what quarter the culpability of that shameful miscarriage on our side attaches:—Admiral Villaret said a few days since, to a British officer, who was in Admiral Montagu’s squadron: “Were you not astonished to see me chase you, on the 9th of June last, with my crippled fleet?”—“Yes,” was the answer.—“My only reason for it was, if possible, to drive you off our coast, as I momently expected the appearance of the great American convoy, the capture of which would have ruined France at that juncture. Why you did not return to the charge, after running us out of sight, you best know. Had you kept on your station two days longer, you must have succeeded, as, on the 11th of June, the whole of this convoy, beyond our expectation, entered Brest, laden with provisions, naval stores, and West Indian productions.”
If my cheek reddens on recording this declaration of an enemy, it is with indignation only.
Hitherto I have not witnessed among the French, either here or in the prison-ship, a single trace of divine worship. The Decadis are indeed distinguished by a more than ordinary chanting of republican songs, a display of the tri-coloured flag on the tops of the churches in the town, and by a party of officers going on shore to the play. Thus, it seems, liberty wants perpetual resuscitation, while the adoration, or even the confession, of a Deity, is left to the unassisted operations of the human mind. From the pompous flimsy reports and orations on this subject made in the convention; from the condescension of Robespierre, who decreed the existence of a Deity, to the hardy denial of Dupont, who proclaimed himself an atheist; must I deduce all I know of the present state of religion in France. It is, however, worthy of remark, that a book, intitled “The Republican Catechism,” which is in universal circulation, and expressly composed for the instruction of the youth of the community, does not once acknowledge, or even hint at, the being of a God; and the public instructor of the prison-ship assured me, that, although the minds of men be now somewhat returning to their former biass, six months ago an inculcation of this principle, so far from being prescribed by the legislature, would have subjected the teacher to punishment. God forbid! that, on such slender data as I profess, I should stigmatize all Frenchmen with the horrid appellation of atheists, or even suppose that a belief in revelation is universally subverted: it were almost to affirm that it had never existed. I have, indeed, in many conversations, had the misfortune to hear innumerable blasphemies uttered, and innumerable sarcasms thrown on all worship; but as they have proceeded from none but weak and ignorant men (to the honour of my friend the schoolmaster, he always reprobated them) who possibly take this method of recommending their republican zeal; I shall be very cautious, until able to acquire better information, of asserting what are the general sentiments of the French on this head. Whenever the subject is started, the people, among whom I am condemned to live, fasten immediately upon some of the monstrous absurdities of the Romish church, and the impositions of the priesthood, which in truth offer but too secure a hold for derision and contempt. This trick, of attempting to confound the impositions of knaves, and the reveries of fools, with the spirit of Christianity, is too stale and despicable to deserve confutation. I will not even quote the noble and decisive simile of Hamlet, which seems to have been conceived on purpose to expose it. Tremble not, therefore, for the faith of your friend, from such puny opponents. He will not yield his assent to new systems, until he has, at least, scrutinized and weighed their effects upon those who inculcate and practise them; and if upon this test, he finds the professors of these doctrines to be men of profligate manners and corrupted sentiments, with the words truth, honour, humanity, and generosity in their mouths, while they are estranged from their hearts, you will not suppose his danger of conversion to be imminent.
And now to terminate this long desultory epistle, which I have written by snatches, when, and how, and as, I could.—Suffer me, however, before we part, to say a word or two of the political changes which I perceive to be working. My residence among the French is not yet six weeks old; and in this short space of time, wonderful has been the alteration of opinion. When we were taken, I was perpetually stunned with the exclamations of “Vive la Montagne! Vivent les Jacobins!” But suddenly, La Montagne is become the theme of execration, and the Jacobin club is cashiered. I gained a confirmation of these events oddly enough. I had observed the disuse of these ridiculous cries for some days, and had overheard a conversation which had raised my suspicions. To ascertain their justness, I bade one of the boys call out as before. “Ah!” said he, “that is forbidden; à présent il faut crier, au diable la Montagne! A bas les Jacobins!” which he immediately ran along the deck exclaiming. The memory of Robespierre they have uniformly affected to hold in abhorrence; but if I may trust to a hint, which was imparted to me on board the prison-ship, very different was once the tone of Captain Le Franq, and all his officers. They now load the character of this extraordinary man, before whom, not six months since, they prostrated themselves like reptiles, with all the assassinations and misery which have overspread France during the last two years. To him alone, it seems, every crime which stains the national character is imputable. At present I will not venture any opinion; but when I get on shore, I shall direct my enquiries to develope the character of this celebrated demagogue.