How Britannia Came to Rule the Waves / Updated to 1900

by William Henry Giles Kingston

The change which had some time before been proposed in the armament of British ships of war had now taken place, though at first, as has been the case with other improvements, carronades were objected to on various grounds, there were now few ships in the navy without them. A whole class of ships, carrying 44 guns, were armed on the main-deck with 32-pounder carronades, instead of the long 6-pounders which they would otherwise have carried. A considerable increase was also made in the size of ships. The largest launched at this date, the Ville de Paris, to carry 110 guns, was somewhat smaller, however, than the French 80-gun ships. Fourteen ships of the line had been commissioned, and ten had been purchased from the East India Company and armed with 54 guns, but, though well fitted for merchantmen, were unsuitable for men-of-war. With one of them, however, one of the most gallant actions on record was fought, about the middle of this year, 1796. The Glatton, one of the purchased Indiamen, of 1256 tons, commanded by Captain Henry Trollope, and fitted on the main-deck with 28 carronades, 68-pounders, the rest of her guns being 32-pounders, making altogether 54 guns; but, as the ports were too small to allow the larger guns to traverse properly, and she had no bow or stern chasers, they could only be pointed right abeam. Having been appointed to reinforce the North Sea Fleet, under Admiral Duncan, she proceeded from Sheerness to Yarmouth Roads, whence, on the 14th of July, she was directed to sail to join a squadron of two sail of the line and some frigates, under the command of Captain Savage, of the Albion 64, cruising off the Texel. At one in the afternoon of the 16th, being about four or five leagues from Helvaetsluis, Captain Trollope discovered a squadron of ships of war, consisting of six large frigates, a brig, and a cutter. One of these, as far as could be made out, mounted 50 guns, two 36, and the other three 28. He was soon convinced, from the way in which they manoeuvred, and from not answering the private signal, that they were enemies. Not intimidated, however, by their vast superiority, he at once cleared for action, and bore down resolutely to attack them. The strangers on this shortened sail, backing their mizen-topsails, in order to keep their stations. At 10 p.m. Captain Trollope having got alongside of the third ship in the enemy’s line, hailed her, and finding that she was French, ordered her commander to strike his colours. Instead of doing so, he immediately fired a broadside, on which the Glatton poured into her antagonist, at a distance of thirty yards, such a shower of shot as perhaps no ship had ever before received. Her crew being insufficient to man her guns on both sides, the allotment to each gun was divided into gangs. One of these having loaded and run out the gun, left the most experienced hands to point and fire it, while they ran across and loaded and ran out the gun on the opposite side. The two headmost French ships then tacked, one placing herself alongside to windward, and the other on the Glatton’s bow, while the other ships engaged her on her lee-quarter and stern. A fierce cannonade was kept up, the Glatton engaging on both sides so near, that her yard-arms were nearly touching those of the enemy; the shrieks and cries which arose from them showing the terrible effect of the Glatton’s shot—though the French commodore, at all events, exhibited no want of courage in the way he fought his ship. Close to leeward was the Brill shoal, on which the van-ship of the French, now tacking, endeavoured to drive the Glatton. The French commodore, with whom Captain Trollope had at first engaged, was still on his lee bow, when the pilot exclaimed, that unless the Glatton tacked she would be on the Brill. “When the Frenchman strikes the ground, do you put the helm a-lee,” was the answer. Directly afterwards the commodore tacked, when, while he was in stays, the Glatton poured in a heavy raking fire, and then endeavoured to come about, but so damaged was she in her sails and rigging, that it was not without difficulty she could do so. Notwithstanding that her topmasts and yards were wounded, her crew, when ordered to shorten sail, flew aloft with alacrity, executing their task, in spite of the shot flying round them from the nearest of the Frenchmen able to continue the action. During this interval the Glatton’s fire had ceased, and one of the French ships stood towards her, in the hopes, probably, of making her their prize, but the British crew hurrying to their guns, soon undeceived them, and compelled their still remaining antagonists to follow their consorts. In attempting to wear after them, Captain Trollope found his masts, rigging, and sails so much injured that all his efforts were ineffectual, or his gallantry would probably have been rewarded by a complete victory. The remainder of the night was spent in strengthening masts and yards, and in bending fresh sails, and by seven o’clock the next morning the ship was in a fit state to renew the action. The enemy were at this time seen steering for Flushing; Captain Trollope continued to follow them till nine o’clock, when, as he had no hopes of being joined by any other ships, and the wind was blowing fresh on shore, he was compelled to haul off and steer for Yarmouth Roads, where he arrived on the 21st. It was afterwards discovered that the French ships had all, more or less, suffered, some of those that had taken the chief part in the action being tremendously knocked about, their decks being ripped up by the Glatton’s shot; one of them, indeed, sank on reaching Flushing harbour. The largest, with which the Glutton was chiefly engaged, was supposed to be the Brutus, armed with 46 24-pounders on the main-deck, and several 36-pounders on the quarter-deck and forecastle, while she was fully 300 tons larger than the Glatton. Though Captain Trollope might have relied on the weight of metal his ship carried, yet his courage and decision in sailing into the midst of six powerfully-armed opponents is worthy of all admiration, and justly entitled him to the honour of knighthood, which was conferred on him soon afterwards by the king, while the merchants of London presented him with a handsome piece of plate, to show their appreciation of his courage.

In September of this year, the Amphion frigate, of 32 guns, commanded by Captain Pellew, lay refitting at Plymouth. Her captain and two other officers were in the cabin at dinner, when a rumbling noise was heard. The captain, followed by his lieutenant, rushed into the quarter-gallery—the instant afterwards the ship blew up; the greater number of persons on board, amounting to nearly 300, perished, they and forty others only escaping with their lives, many of them being severely injured. Great as was the explosion, it had but a trifling effect on the ships near her. Her masts (excepting the mizen-mast) were shivered to pieces and forced out of the ship; four of her main-deck guns were cast upon the deck of the hulk alongside which she lay; and several bodies, pieces of the wreck, etcetera, were thrown as high as her main-topgallant mast-head.

Another gallant action was fought on the 13th of October by the Terpsichore frigate, of 32 guns and 215 men, commanded by Captain Richard Bowen. The Terpsichore having left thirty men at the hospital, the greater number being still dangerously ill on board, was cruising off Carthagena, when at daylight Captain Bowen discovered a large frigate to windward, apparently in chase of him. Though so near an enemy’s port, that even in the event of a victory he could scarcely hope to carry off his prize, trusting to his well-tried crew, he determined to meet the foe. At half-past nine the stranger came within hail, and hauled up on the Terpsichore’s weather-beam. A fierce action now ensued, and continued on both sides for an hour and twenty minutes, when the enemy’s fire began to slacken, and she attempted to make off; but the superior skill of Captain Bowen frustrated the attempt, and in less than twenty minutes compelled her to surrender. When taken possession of she proved to be the Mahonesa, a Spanish frigate of 36 guns, besides cohorns and snivels, manned with a crew of 275 men. She was completely disabled, her main-deck guns were rendered entirely useless, the booms having fallen down upon them, while her standing and running rigging was cut to pieces, she having also lost thirty men killed and as many more wounded. The Terpsichore had only the boatswain and three seamen wounded. Captain Bowen spoke of the gallant way in which the Spanish captain, Don Thomas Ayaldi, had fought his ship, having held out as long as he had the slightest prospect of victory. Notwithstanding her crippled condition, Captain Bowen succeeded in carrying his prize to Lisbon, but she was considered too much battered to be worth the cost of a thorough repair.

Soon afterwards, Captain Bowen captured a French 36-gun frigate, La Vestale, all her masts and her bowsprit being knocked away, and a large proportion of her crew killed and wounded. Being close to the shoals that lie between Cape Trafalgar and Cadiz, the prize, with the Terpsichore’s master, one midshipman, and seven seamen, it having been impossible to remove the French crew, drifted towards the shore, where the master at length brought her up, and during the darkness the Terpsichore lost sight of her prize. While attempting to tow her off the next day, the towrope got foul of a rock and was cut. Soon after this the Frenchmen rose on the prize-crew and again anchored close inshore. The next morning, when Captain Bowen stood in to look for her, he had the mortification to see her standing in to Cadiz, some Spanish boats having come off and taken possession of her. La Vestale was, however, captured in the year 1799 by the gallant Captain Cunningham, of the Clyde.

Passing over many interesting events, we come to one which cannot be omitted in the history of the British Navy. English seamen had long undoubtedly been subjected to much ill-treatment. A large proportion of a ship’s company consisted of pressed men, compelled to serve against their will. They were often harshly treated by their officers; they were badly fed, and but poorly paid, and often punished; while their necessaries were embezzled, and they were cheated in a variety of ways. Towards the end of February, 1797, while Lord Howe was on shore, several petitions were sent up from the seamen at Portsmouth, asking for an advance of wages. They were forwarded to Earl Spencer, First Lord of the Admiralty, but as they were looked upon as forgeries, no notice was taken of them. Lord Howe being unable from sickness to go afloat, Lord Bridport took command of the fleet, when the seamen, supposing their complaints to be disregarded, refused to put to sea. On the 17th of March, every man in the fleet having sworn to support the cause, the mutiny broke out. Ropes were reeved at the foreyard-arms of the Queen Charlotte, and the mutineers were about to hang the first lieutenant of the ship, when Lord Bridport saved him. They, however, turned all the officers out of the fleet who had behaved in any way to offend them. Two delegates were appointed from each ship to represent the whole fleet, and the admiral’s cabin in the Queen Charlotte was fixed upon as the place for their deliberations. On the 21st Admirals Gardner, Colpoys, and Pole went on board the Queen Charlotte in order to confer with the delegates. These men assured the admirals that no arrangement would be considered as satisfactory till it should be sanctioned by the king and parliament, and guaranteed by a proclamation for a general pardon. So irritated did Admiral Gardner become on hearing this, that he seized one of the delegates and swore that he would have them all hanged with every fifth man throughout the fleet. This so exasperated the crew that it was with difficulty Admiral Gardner escaped with his life from the ship. The red or bloody flag was now seen flying from the Royal George, and that of Lord Bridport was struck. The mutineers also loaded all the guns, keeping a watch the same as at sea; every officer being detained on board his respective ship. In a few days, however, the seamen, hearing that their petitions were likely to be attended to, returned to their duty. Admiral Bridport rehoisted his flag on board the Royal George, and informed the seamen that he had brought with him the redress of their grievances and his majesty’s pardon for the offenders. It was now hoped that all matters in dispute were settled; but the seamen, fancying that notwithstanding the admiral’s assurances, they were to be neglected, again refused when ordered to weigh anchor. Admiral Golpoys, on this, ordered the marines to prevent the delegates from coming on board. The latter attempted to force their way, when the marines fired, and five seamen were killed and one of their officers wounded. On this the crew of the London turned the guns in the fore-part of the ship aft, and threatened to blow the officers, and all who stood by them, into the water. Seeing that resistance was hopeless, the officers surrendered, and the admiral and captain were confined in their cabins. Happily, on the 8th of May, a resolution of the House of Commons was passed, and the king’s free pardon being communicated to the seamen, they became satisfied, the red flag was struck, the officers were reinstated in their commands, and the whole fleet put to sea the next day to look out for the enemy. Lord Bridport had been ordered to keep at sea as much as possible, and only to return when necessary to refit or revictual. This plan succeeded, and the seamen generally obeyed their officers and conducted themselves properly.

At Plymouth the ships’ companies exhibited a mutinous disposition, but, after a time, they accepted the terms offered to the seamen at Portsmouth, and tranquillity was restored.

While these things were occurring at home, Sir John Jervis, with about 15 sail of the line, 4 frigates, 2 sloops of war, and a cutter, after putting into the Tagus, was cruising off Cape Saint Vincent. While there, a Spanish fleet of 25 sail of the line, 11 frigates, and a brig, came through the Straits of Gibraltar, bound for Cadiz. On the 14th of February, before dawn, a Portuguese frigate brought intelligence to the admiral that a Spanish fleet was about five leagues to windward. The English fleet was formed in two compact divisions; in one of them was the Captain, with the broad pendant of Horatio Nelson. It appeared that the Spaniards had at first supposed that the fleet in sight was part of a convoy. Some days before an American, which had passed through the British fleet before Admiral Sir Hyde Parker had joined with five ships of the line, while another, the Culloden, was absent in chase, had given the information that the English admiral had only nine sail of the line. The morning broke dark and hazy, and the Spaniards obtaining but a partial view of the British fleet, were fully confirmed in their mistake, and believed that they should surround the whole British squadron and carry them in triumph into Cadiz. Notwithstanding the more just estimate that Sir John Jervis had of his opponents, he lost no time in endeavouring to bring them to action. The main body of the Spanish fleet came down under all sail, with the wind on the starboard-quarter, while the ships to leeward, close-hauled on the same tack, were endeavouring to join them there. Admiral Jervis formed his line close-hauled on the starboard tack, steering straight for the opening between the two divisions of the Spanish fleet. The Culloden, the leading ship, commanded by Captain Troubridge, had the honour of commencing the battle about half-past eleven; the other British ships following, effectually cut off a part of the Spanish fleet from the main body, and compelled them to form on the larboard tack, with the intention of passing through or to leeward of the British line; but they were met with so warm a reception from the centre of the British that they were obliged to tack, and were unable again to get into action till towards the close of the day. Admiral Jervis now devoted all his attention to the main body of the enemy’s fleet to windward, which was reduced at this time, by the separation of the ships to leeward, to eighteen sail of the line. A little after twelve o’clock the signal was made for the British fleet to tack in succession, and soon after the signal for again passing the enemy’s line; while the Spanish admiral’s design appeared to be to join the ships to leeward by wearing round to the rear of the British line. The intention of the enemy was, however, soon perceived by Commodore Nelson, who, being in the rear, had an opportunity of observing this manoeuvre. In order to frustrate the design, he had no sooner passed the Spanish rear than he wore and stood on the other tack towards the enemy. In executing this bold and decisive manoeuvre, the commodore found himself alongside of the Spanish admiral in the Santissima Trinidad, of 136 guns. Notwithstanding this immense disparity, Nelson was not the man to shrink from the contest, though the Spaniard was ably supported by her two seconds ahead and astern, each of which was a three-decker. While Nelson sustained this unequal conflict, Troubridge in the Culloden, and Captain Frederick in the Blenheim, were coming to his assistance. Sir John Jervis had ordered Captain Collingwood in the Excellent to bear up, while he passed to leeward of the rearmost ships of the enemy. As he did so, he gave the San Ysidro so effectual a broadside that she was compelled to submit. Captain Collingwood then passed on to the relief of Nelson, but before he arrived, the Spaniard’s mizen-mast fell overboard and she got entangled with her second, the San Nicolas, a ship of guns. On this, Nelson determined to board the San Nicolas, and the Captain was so judiciously placed by Captain Miller, her commander, that he laid her aboard on the starboard-quarter of the Spanish 84, her spritsail-yard passing over the enemy’s poop, and hooking in her mizen-shrouds. Nothing can surpass Nelson’s own description of what now took place. Calling for the boarders, he ordered them on board:—“The soldiers of the 69th regiment, with an alacrity which will ever do them credit, and Lieutenant Pearson of the same regiment, were almost the foremost on this service. The first man who jumped into the enemy’s mizen-chains was Captain Berry, late my first lieutenant (Captain Miller was in the very act of going also, but I directed him to remain). A soldier of the 69th regiment having broken the upper-quarter-gallery window, jumped in, followed by myself and others as fast as possible. I found the cabin doors fastened, and some Spanish officers fired their pistols at us through the windows; but having burst open the doors, the soldiers fired, and the Spanish brigadier (or commodore) fell as he was retreating to the quarter-deck. I found Captain Berry in possession of the poop, and the Spanish ensign hauling down. I passed with my people and Lieutenant Pearson along the larboard gangway to the forecastle, where I met several Spanish officers prisoners to my seamen, and they delivered me their swords. At this moment, a fire of pistols or muskets opening from the admiral’s stern-gallery in the San Josef, I directed the soldiers to fire into her stern. Our seamen by this time were in full possession of every part of the ship. About seven of my men were killed, and some few wounded, and about twenty Spaniards. Having placed sentinels at the different ladders, and calling to Captain Miller, ordering him to send more men into the San Nicolas, I directed my brave fellows to board the first-rate, the San Josef, which was done in an instant, Captain Berry assisting me into the main-chains.

“At this moment a Spanish officer looked over the quarter-deck rail, and said they surrendered. From this most welcome intelligence, it was not long before I was on the quarter-deck, when the Spanish captain, with bended knee, presented me his sword, and told me the admiral was dying of his wounds below. I asked him on his honour if the ship had surrendered. He declared she had; on which I gave him my hand, and desired him to call his officers and ship’s company and tell them of it, which he did; and on the quarter-deck of a Spanish first-rate, extravagant as the story may seem, did I receive the swords of vanquished Spaniards, which, as I received, I gave to William Fearney, one of my barge-men, who tucked them, with the greatest sang-froid, under his arm.”

Immediately on Nelson’s return on board the Captain, he made the signal for boats to assist in disengaging her from the prizes, and as she was rendered incapable of further service until refitted, he hoisted his pennant for the moment on board the Minerve frigate. In the meantime Admiral Jervis ordered the Victory to be placed on the lee-quarter of the rearmost ship of the enemy, the Salvador del Mundo, and threw in so effectual a broadside that the Spanish commander, seeing the Barfleur bear down to second the Victory, struck his flag. He was very nearly capturing the Santissana Trinidad, but the rest of the Spanish fleet, hitherto uninjured, coming down, he found it necessary to secure his prizes and bring to. All these ships did was to open an ineffectual fire, and then to sail away, leaving the British to carry off their prizes in triumph. The English ships lost in killed and wounded only 300 men, while on board the ships captured the Spanish killed and wounded amounted to 697. Just honours were showered on the victorious admirals and captains; Sir John Jervis was created a peer of Great Britain, under the titles of Baron Jervis of Meaford and Earl Saint Vincent; and among others, Commodore Nelson, who had just before been made a vice-admiral, received the insignia of the Bath.

It had been believed that the mutinous spirit of the seamen had been quelled by the concessions made to them, but such, it was soon found, was not the case. On the 20th of May most of the ships lying at the Nore, and nearly all of those belonging to the North Sea Fleet, hoisted the red flag. The mutineers at Sheerness, like those at Spithead, had chosen two delegates from every ship, and had appointed as a president over them a man of the name of Richard Parker; while on board each ship was a committee of twelve men, who decided on all the affairs relative to its internal management. They declared themselves dissatisfied with the terms accepted by the seamen of Portsmouth, and demanded a more just division of prize-money, more regular and frequent payment of wages, and also permission to go on shore when in port, with several other conditions. This statement they required Vice-Admiral Buckner, whose flag was flying on board the Sandwich, of 90 guns, to transmit without delay to the Admiralty, and they declared that only when its conditions were complied with would they return to their duty. So bold did they become that they went on shore without interruption, parading Sheerness with music and flags, inviting the crews of other ships to join them; while they had their headquarters in a public-house, above which a red flag was hoisted. To put a stop to this, some regiments were sent for, when they thought it prudent to keep to their ships. All communication with the shore being stopped, the mutineers supplied themselves with water and provisions from the merchant-vessels which they brought to, while they allowed none to proceed up to London, completely blockading the port. Throughout the whole of the mutiny the seamen behaved respectfully to their superior officers, while the strictest discipline was kept up on board all the ships. On the king’s birthday the seamen even exhibited their loyalty by firing a grand salute from all the ships, which were decorated in the manner usual on festive occasions.