For the moment, Britain’s Dutch coalition partners were facing the immediate threat of a rampant, militaristic France. As Mahan so shrewdly pointed out, however, the greater long-term cause for concern was from Britain herself, ever hungry to extend her empire. The United Provinces had colonies at the Cape and in the valuable islands of Java and Ceylon. They also possessed minor islands in the West Indies and considerable tracts of land in South America. When, shortly afterward, France overran the United Provinces, restyling them as the puppet Batavian Republic, Dutch territories abroad became fair game, with Britain taking most of them and retaining them at the peace.
Ironically, it had been Britain’s firm stand over the Netherlands that had been a major cause of the French declaring war. With the French occupying the Austrian Netherlands and threatening the United Provinces, there had been every prospect of the whole nation, its fleet and its foreign possessions passing into French hands. British war strategy was thus to intervene in the Netherlands while seizing French overseas territories, in the process inflicting the greatest possible damage to the enemy’s fleet. Without the support of the Spanish fleet as ally, the French would then be vulnerable to incursions against their own coasts. Such were the ambitions of Melville, but they proved to be beyond the nation’s ability to realize with the forces available.
Although British military activities in the Caribbean and the Indian Ocean are beyond the scope of this narrative, they continuously absorbed resources that could have been employed to critical effect closer to home.
THREE WEEKS BEFORE the execution of Louis XVI and a month before the official declaration of war, there occurred an incident which, although minor in itself, included the first hostile shots of a naval war that, with little interlude, would continue for a further twenty-two years.
On 2 January 1793 the British 16-gun brig Childers (perhaps more correctly a ‘brig sloop’, to differentiate this twin-masted type from the three-masted ‘ship-sloop’) entered the Goulet, the approach to the French base at Brest. From here the port may be observed clearly, but it is not certain whether the Childers’ commanding officer, Robert Barlow, was acting under orders or on his own initiative. Either way, his was a highly provocative act in the prevailing state of international relations.
Bordered by high ground, the waters of the Goulet were commanded by fortifications. Only when one of them put a warning shot over his mastheads did Barlow break out his national ensign. This served only to enrage the French gunners, who opened fire from either shore. With the flood tide under her, with little wind and unable to elevate her guns sufficiently to respond, the situation of the Childers appeared unhealthy. With the aid of sweeps, however, Barlow’s men brought her head around and, playing a fitful breeze, her master clawed her, painfully slowly, to the safety of open water.
Unpractised, the French artillerymen hit their target only once, a massive 48-pounder ball smashing one of the brig’s toy 4-pounders into three pieces. The shot itself was brought home as a trophy.
THE FRENCH MINISTER of foreign affairs, Charles-François Dumouriez, was a career army officer of experience and political acumen. He had so far survived having been a favourite of the king, mainly by virtue of his belief that the ‘enemy’ Austria could be seriously undermined by striking at the Austrian Netherlands. His great opportunity was created through the Prussian invasion, when he was instrumental in inspiring the mobilization of the French citizen-army that barred the route to the capital.
It was Dumouriez who directed Kellermann’s movements before and after his success at Valmy. French forces followed up the ensuing Prussian withdrawal, that under the minister heading for Belgium. Hopes that the population would rise spontaneously against its Austrian rulers were not realized but success at Jemappes saw Dumouriez in Brussels by 15 November 1792.
The policy makers of the Convention, notably Danton, envisioned a Revolution-based ‘Greater France’ whose eastern boundary would follow the Rhine north to the sea. Dumouriez’s success in Belgium thus met with considerable approbation but, typical of the paranoid atmosphere within the Convention, also caused suspicions to be voiced that the minister was engaged in creating something of a personal fiefdom. Such suspicions were fuelled by Dumouriez’s calculated strategy of encouraging an ‘independent’ Belgium that would deny the southern Netherlands to the Austrians without provoking the yet-neutral British into declaring war. To pursue this policy, he had to get the Belgian clergy on his side, which meant greatly playing down the Revolutionary drive to radicalize the profession. Having given them the necessary undertakings, Dumouriez went on to request funding from them for a national army. This was one step too far for the Convention, which ordered that all decrees so far made should apply also to Belgium.
As already noted, it was the reopening of the Scheldt to free navigation in November 1792 that moved the British government towards declaring war. Pitt’s first response was to mobilize the militia, both to act as a counterweight to an obvious increase in revolutionary enthusiasm within the kingdom and to permit an intervention by regular forces in the Netherlands should it prove advantageous. The pro-British order, re-established by Prussian military intervention five years earlier, was looking decidedly shaky. Should the ‘patriots’, many of whom had sought refuge in France, again take advantage of the situation to create a state of near civil war, the British could see the French taking immediate advantage. As the former were bound by treaty to support the House of Orange, hostilities thus looked likely even without the execution of Louis.
Dumouriez did indeed have plans to extend his sphere of interest beyond the Scheldt and commanded sufficient respect to enter negotiations by proxy with the British at the highest level during the horror-struck days following the French king’s death. As Britain hovered on a war that would upset the French minister’s intentions, he sought to play down the Convention’s expressed policy of exporting revolution and to justify the Scheldt navigation problem as being no more than the rectification of an anomaly. However, even as the British pondered, unconvinced, the die was cast by the Convention itself declaring war on both the British and the Dutch on 1 February 1793.
The great rivers traversing the southern Netherlands form a natural and formidable impediment, easily defended at the ‘barrier towns’ where lay the essential bridges. Even before any declaration of war, the French posed a threat sufficient for the Stadholders to request British military assistance. The British were slow to respond and now, as Dumouriez advanced, hastily cobbled together a small expeditionary force.
The French leader was taking a considerable risk for as he marched north toward the rivers his supply lines became ever more extended and vulnerable. They required protection at a time when he was losing personnel, for his citizen soldiery, their first wave of patriotic fervour diminishing in the bitter cold of a soggy Flemish winter, melted away to return to their farms. His strength was further diminished by the need to invest those defended towns that he had not the resources nor the time to capture. With the knowledge that a coalition army was moving westward to place itself across his line of retreat, Dumouriez took Breda on 26 February. He was now just 10 miles short of the Maas River that would bar further advance. Fifteen miles to the north-west, therefore, his leading elements laid siege to the small fortified town of Willemstad, prior to attempting a crossing of the Hollandsch Diep.
On 1 March, before the French made their move, 2,000 British troops under the Duke of York were landed downstream, at Hellevoetsluis on the opposite bank. This deep arm of the North Sea was well suited to naval support and the frigate Syren provided guns and crews to man several shallow-draught Dutch craft, able to work close inshore to enfilade French positions. The enemy’s siege batteries were taken and Willemstad relieved in what was the first British military success of the war.
As Dumouriez continued to conciliate with the Belgians, his army was badly defeated by the Austrians near Maastricht, then at Neerwinden. His situation now unsustainable, the French g
eneral was obliged to seek terms. On the understanding that he was now disillusioned with the Convention, and was prepared to work against it, he was allowed to march his army out of Belgium without any further action being taken against it. By the end of March, it was gone.
Having tried, unsuccessfully, to turn the loyalties of his men, Dumouriez was visited by his minister of war, who sought some explanation for his bizarre conduct. Dumouriez’s response was to detain the minister and his party, then to turn them over to the Austrians. Shortly afterward, they were joined by the general and his senior officers. For the moment, the Netherlands were secure, but the reprieve was only temporary.
It has already been noted that the British Admiralty placed the highest priority on reinforcing the West Indies stations, where the standing forces were indeed weak. Based on Jamaica was a 50-gun flagship, three frigates and six smaller vessels, while the Leewards were usually covered by a pair of 50s, two frigates and four smaller vessels. As the French normally maintained three or four ships of the line in the area, usually based on Martinique in the east, they could, had they concentrated and moved smartly, have inflicted considerable woe on the inferior British force. An important point to bear in mind is that the north-east trade winds blow steadily over the greater part of the year, so that any enterprise launched in the days of sail from the eastern end of this great island chain would be likely to have had the initiative.
Although the French declaration of war had been a surprise, the existing inadequate active strength of the Royal Navy could be increased rapidly. This was thanks to Charles Middleton (Lord Barham) who, having recently departed the Navy Board, had left the system in excellent order. All ships ‘in ordinary’ had been grouped into divisions, each of which had been allocated a superintending master. Assisted by the simplified logistics of large classes of ship built to a near-standard design, equipment and stores for each division were housed in lay-apart storehouses adjacent to fitting-out berths. Sequential routine docking meant that a good proportion of reserve ships had clean hulls, enabling them to be brought forward quickly. On his departure, Middleton could inform Melville that ‘upwards of ninety sail of the line’ were in good condition and provided for.
Urgency was added by the knowledge that Rear Admiral Pierre Sercey had sailed from Brest for the West Indies at the end of February with three 74s and supporting ships. It was not known that his task was to escort home a convoy, vital to France in a period of poor harvests. At the same time, it was noticed that a new squadron, drawn from the French Atlantic bases, had begun to be assembled in the anchorage to the lee of the Quiberon peninsula, its purpose unknown.
In the West Indies, Vice Admiral Sir John Laforey had moved his Leeward Islands squadron immediately against the French-held island of Tobago which capitulated with little opposition. It was thus in hopes that most local French garrisons would hold royalist sympathies that Rear Admiral Alan Gardner sailed on 24 March 1793 with a pair of 98s, five 74s, two frigates and a tender. In his first flag command, Gardner’s intent was to take Martinique from the enemy, using nearby Barbados as his base. It would, however, require a further year and a larger enterprise to achieve this objective.
THE NAVY’S MOST EXPERIENCED sea officer was Lord Howe, who commanded the Channel (or Western) squadron. At 67 years old, he was elderly for the task but had accepted it in 1790 at the personal request of the king. It was his second spell in the command and he had previously served as First Lord, this at a time when senior service personnel were commonly involved in high politics (and were frequently blighted by them).
Howe’s area of responsibility ranged from a point to the east of Portsmouth south to Gibraltar. It thus included all French bases except those in the Mediterranean. At a time when practically all British naval assets in home waters were to be found on the south coast, scattered from the Nore in the east to Cork in the west, the Channel squadron could be restyled the Atlantic fleet for operations in the deep ocean.
Howe maintained a close interest in the French fleet gathering inside Quiberon. Its purpose remained unknown but, as the opportunity had not been taken to sail quickly to, say, the West Indies, to strike while British strength was still weak, it was assumed that it had a major task in view. This might have been the escort of a considerable convoy or even an expedition to Ireland but, while the Admiralty made its dispositions and brought forward reserve ships with all despatch, Howe’s course was to remain vigilant, informed and ready to counter any move on the part of the enemy until such time as he had the means to initiate decisive offensive action.
The admiral was strongly against close blockade, considering it not worth the wear and tear on ships and personnel. His policy was to maintain the bulk of his strength on the English south coast (whence he exercised it constantly) while employing a fast frigate squadron to watch the enemy closely and give warning of any movement. The accepted procedure was to use the anchorage at Torbay, the closest that offered the best combination of space, holding ground and protection from the south and west. Howe, none the less, preferred Spithead, with the nearby facilities of Portsmouth dockyard. The fleshpots of Southsea, in addition, offered far more than the under-developed wastes of the West Country. In this, Howe drew a strong later censure from Mahan, who declared it too distant. Which, indeed, it was.
All, in fact, was not well with the French fleet. In command was the Flag Officer, Brest, although ships from Lorient and Rochefort were attached. Vice Admiral Morard de Galles was a career officer whose competence had been proven in the Indian Ocean squadron where, during the Seven Years’ War, he had served under Suffren. Then, it had been a matter of resourcefulness, of making-do in the face of official neglect. Now, with his own flag, he was responsible for a fleet crewed by men who knew their rights but who neglected their responsibilities. In the new state that France had become, the fleet went to sea virtually with the consent of its citizen complements and Morard was aware that the enforcement of the customary standard of service discipline could generate a backlash that could see him ‘investigated’, relieved of his duties, imprisoned or executed. Several of his commanding officers had been promoted for their Revolutionary spirit rather than their ability. Elevated beyond their capabilities, they ran poor ships. Exercises conducted between Quiberon and Belle Ile saw watches failing to muster in the strength necessary to carry out major fleet movements such as wearing ship. Accidents were frequent. Morard de Galles had problems enough without challenging Howe.
Keeping the fleet offshore had at least the advantage of placing crews beyond the influences of the ports where, particularly at Brest, outright mutiny was always likely. Increasingly, however, a further reason became apparent. Immediately to the south was the region of the Vendée, one of several which had retained a majority of royalist supporters and which now were breaking into open revolt. This counter-revolution had to be crushed by military means; it was the task of the fleet to prevent the British from aiding the insurgents by an assault from the sea.
SINCE OPENING THE WAR with Britain and Spain, those directing French affairs had been active. Undaunted by the array of enemies that they had created, they focused the fierce energies released by the Revolution into gearing up the spirit and resources of the nation to overcome any force that opposed it.
In truth, the coalition faced by the French was a force far less than the sum of its parts. Both Austria and Prussia had been recent allies of France and tended more toward hostilities with each other, each vying for control of what, eventually, would emerge as a united Germany. It was in the gift of Spain, another late ally, to threaten the French with her not inconsiderable fleet and army which, acting in concert, could have campaigned along both the Biscay and Mediterranean shores. That they did not was due to lamentable standards of government and military direction and, free of any real threat from this quarter, the discordant mass of the French armies could be concentrated in the east.
With Italy yet a collection of smaller states, Spain was free to esta
blish naval command of the western Mediterranean, but both the material state of her fleet and the quality of its direction had deteriorated. Until the British could assemble a Mediterranean fleet worthy of the name, using the greatest asset of their allies – their geography – the French, prevented only by their own deep divisions, could act with any squadron they cared to deploy.
The lack of cohesion between the coalition states allowed the French armies, as alarming in their fervour as any fielded by the Mahdi, to succeed in detail. In Belgium, in the Italian border country, in the high Savoy and deep into Germany, the Revolutionary cohorts drove back their disunited opponents, responding to Danton’s call to answer their challenge by ‘hurling at their feet the French king’s head’.
Wars, however, are expensive and the French economy, already fragile, was under severe pressure. One major cause of the original revolt, the price of bread, was now controlled by law, pleasing the populace but hardly suiting the producers, many of whom moved out of cereal production. Wholesale confiscation of property had seen the issue of government interest-bearing bonds (assignats) by way of compensation. Being transferable, these soon went into general circulation but, poorly underpinned by genuine resources, their value fell rapidly, creating a fresh cause for discontent.
As the price of ‘secondary essentials’ rose, interested factions within the Convention, as usual, made political capital. Representatives of the radical Sans-culottes sections (termed the Enragés), notably the fiery left-wing abbé, Jacques Roux, fanned the unrest to push the Convention toward ever more extreme agendas. Such activities were sufficiently alarming to bring about a temporary, and unlikely, meeting of minds between the Montagnards and the more moderate Girondins. Interfactional squabbling, yet more rancorous as military success stagnated, then reversed as Dumouriez first retreated, then defected.
The Fall of Toulon Page 14
