Already 56 years of age when he received his flag in 1780, Samuel Hood then survived two contentious episodes which appear to indicate that the Admiralty, in essentially unforgiving times, could take a very fair view when errors were either unavoidable or made for good reason.
The first occasion was the repeat encounter with de Grasse’s French squadron in the Chesapeake in September 1781. Rear Admiral (of the Red) Thomas Graves was senior officer and commanded the British line, as was customary, from the centre. Rear Admiral (of the Blue and, therefore, junior) Samuel Hood commanded the rear division from the Barfleur 98, captained by the younger Alexander. Due to a poor approach, the British line engaged the enemy at an angle, rather than parallel as tactics prescribed. Only the van division under Rear Admiral (of the Blue) Francis Drake ever became fully engaged, the remainder being beyond gun range.
Superficially for the British, it was no more than a tactical reverse (although one 74 had to be scuttled on account of damage received) but for de Grasse it was a significant success. Graves had been prevented from assisting the army of Cornwallis, besieged in nearby Yorktown, and the latter’s resulting surrender had dire consequences for the British cause in North America.
Following the action, Hood was highly critical of his C-in-C, disputing that signals had been displayed. In truth, it was yet another example of how rigid adherence to the line-of-battle resulted in inconclusive actions. Graves escaped censure, going on to gain distinction (and a peerage) for his handling of Howe’s van division at the ‘Glorious First of June’. Hood’s criticism of his superior was also overlooked, probably because it indicted the system, which stifled initiative, rather than the man. Shortly afterward, indeed, Hood was temporarily advanced to Rear Admiral of the Red.
In January 1782, just four months after the debacle off Cape Henry, Hood found himself relieving Kempenfelt in the West Indies. Now with Francis Drake as his second-in-command Hood proved his worth by brilliantly outmanoeuvring de Grasse at the minor encounter off St Kitts.
During the following month, command of the station had been assumed by the very senior figure of Admiral (of the White) Sir George Rodney, who was returning from sick leave. Hood reverted to the Blue as Rodney’s second-in-command. His flag was still worn in the Barfleur second rate, although his cousin now had a different command. Rear Admiral Francis Drake remained as junior flag officer.
On 12 April 1782 Rodney sailed with a powerful fleet of thirty-seven ships of the line and nineteen smaller. Again, the quarry was de Grasse, who was moving a large collection of transports prior to a planned French assault on Jamaica.
Contact was made near the Saintes, a clutch of small islands south of Guadeloupe. The battle was interesting in that Rodney broke the enemy’s line by taking the British centre division through it. Astern of him, Hood followed his admiral’s action in taking the rear division through. The end result was to break the enemy into three groups, none of which was in coherent fighting order.
Hood’s personal triumph was to have the enemy flagship, the great 110-gun Ville de Paris, strike her colours to his Barfleur, de Grasse becoming his prisoner. Four other French ships were taken, but it was now sunset. Inexplicably, Rodney ordered his fleet to lie-to for the night, allowing his defeated enemy to withdraw.
Hood, fully expecting a signal for ‘general chase’, was furious at being kept leashed. Although later allowed to lead a flying squadron, with which he apprehended two more of the enemy, Hood did not shrink from criticism of Rodney. The latter’s extravagant praise of his subordinate contrasts ill with Hood’s stinging rejoinders regarding the squandering of the chance of virtually annihilating the fleeing French. Even Rodney’s initiative in breaking the enemy line was ascribed to advice received from his flag captain.
Hood again escaped censure for his intemperate criticism (‘No more fit for his station than he himself was to be Archbishop of Canterbury’) because the Admiralty Board knew that he was correct. Although he then further tempted fate by his poor assessment of Rodney’s relief, Admiral (of the Blue) Hugh Pigot (‘Very unequal [to his] very important duty [as he had] scarce seen salt water since the year ’63’), Hood was created an Irish baron by the king for his ‘great and eminent services’. As his abilities and aggression were never in doubt, the Admiralty Board was unable to convey any displeasure and thus, effectively, to disagree with the sovereign’s assessment.
The decade of peace that followed in 1783 with the Peace of Versailles slowed Hood’s advancement, but he made Vice Admiral of the Blue in 1787 and of the Red in 1793. At this point, and with the opportunities offered by a new war, he was appointed commander-in-chief, Mediterranean.
Although the preceding years of peace had seen Samuel Hood pass his peak, he was thought by Nelson to have the spirit and energy ‘of a man of forty’. Generally well-liked in the service, he possessed qualities that were well suited to pursuing a task through to its conclusion. His sharp criticisms, although they never showed himself in poor light, was invariably directed at those who warranted it, often superiors. Advancing years had also somewhat tempered an earlier impulsiveness.
BRITISH NAVAL PRESENCE in the Mediterranean in February 1793 was minimal. The station ship, the 50-gun Romney, wore the flag of Rear Admiral Samuel Goodall. There were also a frigate and four smaller vessels whose only serious duty had been the protection of trade against opportunist pirates, active off what was still called the Barbary Coast.
The French at Toulon had at the outbreak of hostilities seventeen ships of the line ready for sea and a further fourteen refitting, under repair or still in build. Given time, they could thus muster a force comprising potentially two 120s, four 80s and twenty-five 74s, supported by twenty-seven frigates and corvettes.
Fortunately for the allies, the spirit of the Revolution had greatly reduced both the efficiency of the dockyard and the effectiveness of the fleet. By dint of receiving reinforcement from Brest, sufficient ships had been assembled to make an attempt at invading Sardinia but, as we have seen, the results were disastrous. The British Admiralty knew well, however, that it could not depend upon this comedy of errors continuing for any length of time and sought to put together a credible Mediterranean fleet with which to oppose it. Its assembly, however, depended upon greater priorities elsewhere, available manpower and the capacity of home dockyards to deal with the sudden surge of work involved in bringing forward other ships from reserve.
Although Barham had done much to improve the efficiency of the yards, the level of payment for their civilian workers remained considerably less than that for those in commercial yards. This resulted in flagrant misappropriation of stores as ‘perks’, despite every effort to contain the practice. Punishments included fines of up to £200, public whipping or transportation for up to fourteen years. The tariff was savage but the dockyards were an integral part of the lives of the townsfolk and a strong vein of sympathy was apparent in the local magistracy. Those punished could often find themselves local heroes.
There was also the question of unrest, both spontaneous and organized, in the workforce. This was forty years before the action of the Tolpuddle Martyrs, but skilled men who knew their value in a war emergency were prepared to use group pressure to improve their lot. ‘Artificers’, it was noted, ‘manifested … dispositions to take advantages of the times … to combine together for the purpose of extorting … an increase in wages or … of opposing some order or regulation.’
It became law that those who exhorted the workforce to successful strike action would be guilty of treason. Those ‘affording them support by voluntary contributions’ would face charges of sedition. These were the reactions of government facing the threat not only of armies but of Revolutionary ideas. On the whole, however, the grievances of the dockyard workers were, like those on the lower decks of the navy itself, reasonable. It is interesting to note, none the less, that when mutinies began shortly afterward trouble centred on the service rather than in the yards that supported it, altho
ugh there would be a level of unrest officially described as ‘riots’ at both Plymouth and Sheerness.
Despite problems, ships were commissioned steadily from reserve and, with an eye to the increasing urgency attending developments in the Mediterranean, Hood, the commander-in-chief designate, was instructed by the Admiralty to send out his growing fleet to reinforce Goodall in several batches. Each would be headed by one of his divisional commanders, the final group by Hood himself who, upon his arrival, would formally assume overall command.
Hood received his first Admiralty letter on 24 March 1793, directing him to order Rear Admiral (of the Blue) John Gell to proceed into the Atlantic, covering a convoy of East Indiamen, thence to cruise off the Azores in the general protection of trade until 25 April when, in his flagship, the St George 98, he would arrive at Gibraltar with one 74 and two frigates to complete with water and provisions, then to await Hood’s or Goodall’s instructions.
If little sense of urgency is apparent in these orders, neither is there in the next, dated 5 April. By these, Vice Admiral (of the Blue) Phillips Cosby would sail on the 10th with his flag in the Windsor Castle 98, in company with the Princess Royal 98 (which would become Goodall’s flagship upon her arrival) and three 74s. They were to proceed southward, covering any commercial shipping in that sector, and to cruise from there in the general support of trade until arriving at Gibraltar on 15 May. Here, Cosby would take Goodall and Gell temporarily under his command.
Also to come under Cosby’s jurisdiction at Gibraltar were four smaller vessels engaged in convoy escort. Even with these attached, the concentration would still not have grown sufficiently to counter the French Toulon squadron, which probably explains the apparent lack of urgency.
A third squadron was ordered away on 8 May under Vice Admiral (of the White) William Hotham. His flag was in the first rate Britannia, and she was accompanied by three 74s, one 64 (Captain Nelson in the Agamemnon) and a brace of frigates. Hotham’s first duty was to meet an inbound convoy to the west of Ushant and then, having shepherded it into the Channel, to await Hood’s instructions.
An interesting detail is Hood’s very slight seniority to Hotham. At the beginning of that year, 1793, both were Vice Admirals of the Blue, the junior division. In this rank, Hood enjoyed three years’ seniority. In the February, both were promoted, Hood directly to the Red, the senior flag, but Hotham to the intermediate White. (In February 1799 with both in their mid seventies, Hotham would finally catch up when both were made Admirals of the White.)
Hood himself was ordered to Portsmouth on 4 May to break his flag in the Victory 100. Here, shortly after Hotham’s departure, he received his orders. He was to sail at ‘the first opportunity of wind and weather’ with such store ships and trade that required protection, to link with Hotham in the chops of the Channel and proceed to Gibraltar. There, he was to take the combined groups under his command, obtain the latest intelligence and, unequivocally, to ‘use [his] best endeavours to seek the French Fleet and to bring it to action’. Should the latter, as expected, remain in Toulon it was to be watched, particularly with an eye to the protection of trade, not only British but also that of the coalition partners.
The admiral was advised that ambassadors and representatives of each of the allies were in negotiation to decide the most effective means of acting against the common enemy, and that it was incumbent upon him ‘in pursuance of His Majesty’s said pleasure’ to cooperate fully with the commanders of the partners’ fleets and armies. In the event that he was still in any doubt, the letter repeated that ‘the leading object of your Instructions is to give Battle to the Fleet of France and to secure … free and uninterrupted navigation of the Mediterranean’.
Two days later, on 20 May, Hood was ordered to get under weigh as soon as he could muster seven ships of the line that were ready in all respects. In accordance with instructions, the Victory sailed from Spithead on the 23rd in company with five 74s, two 64s, two frigates and three smaller. One hospital ship, a store ship, two fireships and a clutch of East Indiamen completed the assembly which, two days later, met up with Hotham.
Aboard the St George, Gell’s flagship laying in Gibraltar, the log for 20 June recorded laconically: ‘At 10 arrived V. Adm. Hood in the Victory and V. Adm. Hotham in the Britannia and part of their fleet’. A near month had elapsed, accounted for by the necessity of Hood’s meeting and escort of a valuable 76-ship Mediterranean convoy. This had been badly delayed and Hood notes it having been met on 7 June.
In all, Hood now had assembled at Gibraltar two first rates of 100 guns, three second rates of 98, twelve 74s and two 64s. There were seventeen frigates and smaller. These numbers varied continually, however, as ships joined or sailed or were despatched on convoy duty.
An urgent requirement for Lord Hood was to establish a diplomatic rapport with his allies and, through this, to formulate an appropriate plan of action. There existed British diplomatic representation in Turin (Piedmont), Florence (Tuscany) and Genoa (Genoese Republic). Despatches from Turin were increasingly critical of British delay as French forces tightened their grip on those parts of the state that they had seized, establishing themselves so that eventual recovery would be the more difficult. Those from Genoa continually emphasized the assistance being rendered to the French through an unbroken flow of supplies. Pressures on the new C-in-C had begun to accumulate but, in truth, the Admiralty could not move any more rapidly than diplomacy, and the treaties made by the British foreign secretary, Lord Grenville, were still being formalized – that with Sardinia on 25 April; with Spain on 25 May; with Naples on 12 July; with Prussia on 14 July; and, finally, with Austria on 30 August.
Problems in relations with the Spanish were already becoming evident. Just days after the conclusion of the alliance Lord St Helens, the British ambassador in Madrid, was complaining that ‘they are infinitely more untractable [sic] and difficult to deal with as friends than as enemies’. He mentioned the hostility of the Spanish minister of marine, only one of many who were convinced that British policy would be to ensure that the Spanish and French fleets would be pitted against each other, weakening both so as to allow the Royal Navy to emerge with uncontested superiority. As the minister had the ear of his chief minister, St Helens counselled extreme caution on the part of British officers in their dealings with their Spanish counterparts.
Hood, in any case, was not one to value Spanish support particularly highly and his blunt response led St Helens to advise Grenville in London that the admiral was of the opinion that the two fleets should not work ‘in absolute conjunction’. In any joint enterprise it was proposed that one squadron should undertake the active role, while the other should contain the remaining enemy force.
As instructed, Hood completed rapidly with water and victuals at Gibraltar and sailed again on 28 June, escorting a Mediterranean convoy eastward until it could be safely detached under the escort of a pair of frigates. Progress was frustratingly slow and the fleet was still short of the Balearics when, on 8 July, it fell in with the Spanish Cartagena squadron, which reported itself stricken with pestilence and returning to port. Its otherwise available strength, however, was given as twenty-six ships of the line and ten frigates.
For their current state of health the Spanish gave as their reason the fact that they had been sixty days at sea. Nelson in the Agamemnon noted: ‘From the circumstances of having been longer than that time at sea do we attribute our getting healthy … Long may they remain in their present state.’ Later, he wrote: ‘All we get here is honour and salt beef. My poor fellows have not had a morsel of fresh meat or vegetables for near nineteen weeks.’
On 16 July, following a ‘most tedious’ passage, the Victory and her squadron raised Cape Sicié, south-west of Toulon. Behind the scenes, diplomatic work had already begun inasmuch as Hood had sent ahead Captain John Inglefield in the fast-sailing Aigle frigate to the port of Genoa with a letter for John Trevor, the British envoy in Turin.
Trevor had an impo
rtant role in events, expecting to receive the Earl of Mulgrave, colonel of the 31st Regiment but acting as representative of Henry Dundas, Viscount Melville. While not yet officially filling the new post of secretary of state for war, Melville was very much the articulator of policy. His instructions to Mulgrave were that, having arrived at Turin, he was to persuade the Austrians to increase their military contribution from the current 8,000 men to, if possible, 20,000 in order to recover the Piedmontese territories of Savoy and Nice, currently occupied by French Revolutionary armies.
Diplomatic efforts (ultimately unsuccessful) were in train to attract Switzerland into the coalition, her troops being highly valued. From this source, and from Germany, it was hoped to raise a further 15,000 or more. Mulgrave’s task was to coordinate these efforts with those of the British representatives in Italy and with Hood.
Should this accumulation in strength be realized, Melville’s objective was ‘to capture Marseilles, Toulon and Corsica’, with later designs on Brest. This vague plan appeared to depend upon first defeating French military forces in the north, thus enforcing a partial withdrawal from the south. As the small British army was already fully committed in Flanders, in the West Indies and in the anti-insurrection role at home, Melville’s grand design would depend upon close and successful coordination between the coalition partners. Judged against developments, it would appear that the secretary of state’s aspirations were based on good intelligence and were not unattainable.
Melville’s interest in Corsica was based on its boasting good anchorages within 150 miles of Toulon, ideal bases for coalition operations against the south coast of France. Formerly Genoese territory, Corsica had been ceded to France as recently as 1769. Its very independently minded people had little affinity with the French but were well disposed toward the British. The aged and unofficial Corsican leader, General Paoli, once exiled in Britain, had been judiciously reinstated by the French Convention but, sickened by events on the mainland, he had distanced the island from them. Corsica was another pocket of royalist sympathies, hardened by the unacceptable behaviour of commissioners sent there by the Convention.
The Fall of Toulon Page 16
