I am still in the greatest possible dilemma…. Within this last week Ministers have proposed to me to return to Sicily and I am to give my answer Sunday next. Innumerable delicate circumstances of a private and public nature concur to render the choice between the West Indies and Sicily exceedingly difficult.25
The nature of the ‘delicate circumstances’ can only be guessed at, but they are likely at least to have included anxiety about the effect of further relocation on family life. From correspondence two months later it seems that his mind may have been made up for him. He wrote,‘I … have now learnt … that my destination is finally determined upon, and that I am to proceed with as little delay as possible to Barbadoes’.26 In the event, Hugh Elliot’s next posting was not Barbados but the Leeward Islands, to which he travelled two years later, in 1810, to assume the Governorship of the colony. He did so with very considerable reluctance. Writing to his brother from Madeira, he was contemplating resigning as soon as he decently could:
I am now upon my voyage to Antigua separated from every individual of my family, without the intention of remaining there, as I understand from all quarters that the situation of Governor is quite untenable on account of its expense. Circumstances have however rendered it indispensable for me to go there before I relinquish it, and to ascertain upon the spot the impossibility of living there upon the actual income of my office. Mrs Elliot and my children are left in England with my home salary.27
In the West Indies the unhappiness arising from his loneliness was reinforced by his experience of slavery. A number of individual instances of ill-treatment, on which as Governor Hugh Elliot was called to adjudicate, confirmed him as an abolitionist. According to the Countess of Minto he wrote to his wife about one case of extreme cruelty in which he had upheld the sentence imposed on a plantation owner: ‘God grant that this severe example may teach others in the West Indies to dread a similar fate, should they forget that slaves are their fellow-creatures, and their lives are protected by the laws both of England and the colonies’.28 Like his father, Charles Elliot too was to develop an abiding hostility to slavery.
When Hugh Elliot returned to England in 1813 at the end of his Governorship his next (and final) assignment followed without delay. He was appointed Governor of the province of Madras (modern-day Chennai) and took up his post the following year. Charles’s elder sister Emma’s future husband, Sir Thomas Hislop, was commander-in-chief at Fort St George, Madras, for a six-year period which coincided almost exactly with Hugh Elliot’s tenure as Governor. It is not clear which of Elliot’s children went with him to India, but it seems that Charles was not among them. After Madras, Hugh Elliot spent ten years in retirement in England, sadly without his wife Margaret who had died shortly before he returned home. He died in December 1830.
It is easy to exaggerate the extent to which Charles Elliot resembled his father. The similarities between the two were nevertheless striking, both in their innate characteristics and in the way in which they reacted to particular situations. Hugh Elliot was a more colourful, unconventional man than his son; but despite being known for unorthodox behaviour, he was generally held in high esteem, a reputation which grew over time after his death. On a personal level he was remembered for a ready wit, which he was willing to deploy freely; the story was told of an exchange between Elliot and Frederick the Great:
It was he [Elliot] who, when the King of Prussia commented tartly on the expression of gratitude to God which accompanied the official account of Sir Eyre Coote’s victory over Hyder Ali “Je ne savais pas que la Providence fut de vos allies”, replied “Le seul, Sire, que nous ne payons pas”.29
In 1898, nearly seventy years after Hugh Elliot’s death, the former Prime Minister, Lord Rosebery, gave a farewell speech for a number of Old Etonians taking up posts overseas. They included the fourth Earl of Minto, Hugh Elliot’s great-grandson, who was departing to become Governor General of Canada. Rosebery said:
Lord Minto comes of a governing family – indeed at one time it was thought to be too governing a family. Under former auspices it was felt that the Elliots bulked too largely in the administration of the nation. At any rate, whether it was so or not, it was achieved by their merits, and there has been a Viceroy Lord Minto already. There have been innumerable distinguished members of the family in the last century, and there has also been a person, I think, distinguished above all others – that Hugh Elliot who defeated Frederick the Great in repartee at the very summit of his reputation, and went through every adventure that a diplomatist can experience.30
Chapter Two
Minor to Midshipman
Little detail is available to allow any revealing insights into Charles Elliot’s childhood. The Countess of Minto’s biography of Hugh Elliot reports on his brother the earl’s impressions of Hugh and Margaret’s children in Dresden, describing a scene of domestic harmony and contentment: ‘I have, since I have seen Hugh’s wife and beautiful children, better hope of his happiness than I ever had before … two of the children are so like the cherubs looking up [in the Raphael painting – see Note 16, Chapter One] that I told Hugh it was a family picture’.1 Lady Minto, Hugh’s sister-in-law, wrote in the same vein: ‘I admire Mrs. Elliot and the children to the utmost…. The children are really charming’2
To take up his post in Naples Hugh Elliot sailed with Nelson from Portsmouth in the frigate Maidstone, disembarking on 15 June 1803. From an irritated letter shortly afterwards to the Foreign Secretary, regretting the haste of his new posting, it is apparent that his family were not with him:
I shall not allow myself to dwell upon the sacrifices I have made of private interest or feeling, by relinquishing the prospect I had entertained of settling my private affairs at Dresden, of joining my numerous family and bringing them with me to Naples, since I trust that from this painful disappointment, the King’s service may ultimately reap considerable benefit.3
Where Charles and the other members of Hugh Elliot’s family were while he was in Naples is not clear; Blake indicates that Charles, at least, was being tutored in England.4 A long letter – essentially about salary – by Hugh to the Foreign Secretary from Palermo in 1806, shortly before leaving for home, may suggest otherwise:
I appeal to your equity … earnestly entreating that my salary may be continued to me until my arrival in England. His Majesty will be pleased to take under his consideration the impossibility of my diminishing my expenditure until time shall be afforded to me to have dismissed my numerous retinue and dependants in this country, and also to obtain an asylum for myself and family of ten children in England.5
By March 1808 it seems that most of the family – if not Hugh himself – were settled. It was from 8 Portland Place, London, that Hugh’s letter to his sister-in-law about the uncertainty of his next appointment was written. Charles was a boy of 8 when his father left the family behind to take up his post as Governor of the Leeward Islands. On his way to Antigua, Hugh Elliot wrote to his brother from Madeira telling him of the circumstances and progress of each of his children. He expressed pride and hope about Charles: ‘My sixth and seventh sons, Gilbert and Charles, are in their tenth and ninth years, are both fine, and are at Dr. Valpy’s School, where they will receive a more classical education than has fallen to the lot of their elder brothers.’6 He had good cause to be optimistic about the boys’ educational prospects; the school in Reading, Berkshire, of which Dr Richard Valpy had been Headmaster since 1781, had experienced mixed fortunes since its foundation in 1125 and reconstitution in 1486, but had now established a wide reputation as one of the leading schools of the day. The credit for this renaissance is generally attributed to Valpy himself, an energetic and eccentric classicist who was a renowned disciplinarian and vigorous promoter of the School’s interests. By 1791, when he had been in post just ten years, he had increased the number of pupils from twenty-three to one hundred and twenty and used his own funds to build new teaching accommodation.7 The regime for pupils at Reading Grammar Scho
ol was demanding but tempered with a kindly humour, especially on the part of Dr Valpy. A detailed, light-hearted, description of life at the School when Gilbert and Charles Elliot attended was later provided by a near contemporary of the Elliot boys whose time there overlapped with them.8 Valpy was the dominant figure, and classical quotations and allusions abounded. Gilbert and Charles were visited at school by their elder brother Ned, aged 18, who wrote shortly afterwards to their sister Emma in Madras. It was clear that there were no anxieties concerning Gilbert, but that Charles’s future was uncertain:
At 2 o’clock I left London for Reading to see my brothers. I found them very well and in much better spirits than I expected. We talked of nothing else but you all, and the happiness we were to feel at the expiration of the three years when we were all to go out together. I stayed with them the following day and had a very long conversation with the Dr.[Valpy] about Gilbert. He is very sanguine about him, says that he is very clever indeed and regrets very much his not going to the University … I am confident that Gilbert will do well in whatever profession he chooses for himself … About Charles it will not be quite so easy to settle, by what Lord Melgund says. I should not wonder if he was to go into the Navy, but Lord Minto will do what is proper for him, in the course of next Vacation. Mrs. Valpy is very fond of them both and behaves very well to them. I have written to them both since I was there but have had no answer.9
The classical education at Reading will have stood Gilbert in good stead for his subsequent clerical career, but since Charles left aged 14, it will not have had such an impact on him; and for a naval career, in any case, that did not particularly matter.
Charles’s wish to join the Royal Navy was met with only cautious enthusiasm by his father. He surmised – correctly – that with the victory at Waterloo the previous year the long period of war with France was at last coming to an end, and – less correctly – that this would mean years of inactivity for the navy and an unfulfilling career for his son.10 Writing to his nephew the second Earl Minto from Madras in 1816 he reported that:
Charles’s profession is found and I hope for the best. I have thanked both Anna Maria and Ann Carnegie for the interest they took in deciding this point according to Charles’s own inclination. It puzzles me however to form any confidence of what his lot will be if peace is as firmly established as I think it now must be.11,12
There were essentially two ways in which those aspiring to officer status could enter the Royal Navy. In 1729, during the tenure of Admiral of the Fleet George Byng, first Viscount Torrington, as First Lord of the Admiralty, a Royal Naval Academy was established at Portsmouth. The number of cadets there was initially limited to forty, each attending for three years, the Academy’s aim being to provide its students with practical and theoretical training in preparation for a career at sea. The other, long-established, method of entry was based on patronage and influence. The families of intending officers were expected to support their young men financially both during their initial one to three years as volunteers and for the five to seven years as midshipmen. The funds supplied for this purpose, however, were made over not to the individuals but to their ships’ captains, who then allocated the money as they thought fit. This was a significant income opportunity for the captains; graduates of the Academy tended not to come from the wealthiest families, so it was perhaps not surprising that for this reason, among others, the patronage route remained the dominant form of recruitment to the Service.13
Charles Elliot’s family was well placed to secure for him the necessary start to his naval career, having provided over the preceding fifty years a number of distinguished naval officers. In March 1815 the young Charles enlisted initially, in accordance with common practice for someone of his age and background, as a volunteer (first class). He was posted to the Mediterranean to serve under Captain Thomas Briggs in HMS Leviathan, a 74-gun line-of-battle ship which had played an important role at Trafalgar but which now, after twenty-five years, was nearing the end of her active life.14,15 When Leviathan was withdrawn from active service in 1816 to become a convict ship, Charles Elliot was advanced to midshipman in HMS Minden, also to be deployed in the Mediterranean and also a third-rate 74-gun ship of the line.
Lighter than the larger first-rates (at least 100 guns) and second-rates (at least 90 guns), but with heavier armament than the smaller frigates and sloops, the 74s had proved an effective combination of firepower and manoeuvrability and had been crucial to British naval successes in the Napoleonic Wars. For a newly arrived volunteer or midshipman, serving in such a vessel was usually to experience a sharp contrast with the relative comfort of his previous life; in third-rate ships their berths were on the lowest deck above the hold, with little air or light. A recent account describes their diet:
Midshipmen and boys, regardless of social rank, generally ate the same fare as seamen and warrant officers. Salt beef and pork, ships’ biscuit, cheese, pease porridge, potable soup, and the occasional fresh vegetable, all washed down with a gallon of small beer or a pint of grog each day made it a harsh transition for the palates of well-bred boys accustomed to fine food and wine.16
The number of midshipmen and volunteers differed from ship to ship, but they were always a small minority of the total complement. Fully manned British third-rates had crews of some 600 to 700 men, sometimes more, of whom typically around only twenty were midshipmen and volunteers (first class).17 To the crush of officers and seamen and to difficult living conditions were added demanding duties; these were many and varied, but
Standard responsibilities included such tasks as running aloft to supervise seamen in setting, reefing, or furling sail; supervising sub-divisions [of the divisions under the authority of the lieutenants] at small arms training; attending to the swift transition of the watch; maintaining the ship’s safety by constantly checking for naked lights and lanterns below decks; witnessing visits to the purser’s, steward’s, or boatswain’s store rooms; and casting the log line in order to determine the speed and, when in soundings, the position of the ship.18
If his service in Leviathan was a stark introduction to life in the navy, Charles Elliot’s time in the Minden was something approaching the full experience. Under the captaincy of William Paterson, Minden was one of a combined force of British and Dutch ships which bombarded Algiers in August 1816. The scourge of piracy had long been a problem for the world’s maritime trading nations, and particularly, because of its major share of sea commerce, for Britain. During the recent years of war between the European powers and in America, which had left the navies of these countries with very little capacity for any other activity, pirates in the Mediterranean, in the Indian Ocean, and in the Caribbean had operated with relative impunity.
The continuing major threat posed by Moorish pirates sailing from the Barbary Coast, principally out of Tripoli, Tunis and Algiers, was the taking of slaves from coastal regions throughout the Mediterranean and further afield, including England and Ireland. Attempts, including two under Admiral Lord Exmouth, had been made earlier to halt their depredations, but none of these had had any lasting impact. The raiding of Mediterranean coasts, shipping, and sometimes inland areas as well, to capture, transport and enslave local inhabitants had been practised by pirates based along the Barbary Coast since at least the start of the sixteenth century. The number of slaves taken in this way was not comparable with that of the Atlantic slave trade, but was far from insignificant; it has been estimated that the figure for the period between 1530 and 1780 was around one million, possibly more.19
HMS Minden was a relatively new vessel. Launched in 1810 at Bombay (Mumbai), she had the distinction of being the first British ship of the line to be constructed outside Britain – at greater cost than at a home dockyard – and was built of the more durable teak instead of oak.20 The command of the expeditionary force to Algiers was again given to Exmouth.
It is not clear exactly when Charles Elliot joined the Minden. The force of nineteen warships, incl
uding three 74s of which the Minden was one, sailed from Plymouth on 28 July, and while still in the English Channel, Minden was sent on ahead to Gibraltar to prepare for the arrival of the main fleet. The British force reached Gibraltar on 9 August, when it was rejoined by the Minden and combined with six Dutch ships for the voyage to Algiers. Two days later than planned, because of unfavourable winds, the fleet set sail from Gibraltar on 14 August. Some 200 miles from their destination it was joined from Algiers by the 18-gun sloop HMS Prometheus, which had been sent in advance by Exmouth to Algiers. There her captain, Commander William Dashwood, had pleaded with the ruler, the Dey, to release the Consul and several of Prometheus’s crew who had been seized and imprisoned, but without success.
Intelligence brought by Dashwood confirmed Exmouth’s earlier information about the strength of local forces and fortifications. The Dey had at his disposal some 40,000 men; around thirty to forty gun and mortar boats, five 24- to 30-gun corvettes and four 44-gun frigates; and shore batteries mounting at least 1,000 guns.21 Against this, the British and Dutch fleet had a total of some 950 guns including 632 cannon of which, as has been pointed out elsewhere, half would be on the wrong side of the ships in an engagement.22
Exmouth’s reputation was generally high as he contemplated the forthcoming battle, but he had his critics. There had been very mixed results from his two earlier attempts to bring the pirates to heel, and many felt that the force he now had with him was inadequate for the task. The relative firepower of the opposing sides suggested that in theory that was true, but what Exmouth did have, from his previous forays, was detailed knowledge of the coastal waters around Algiers and of its harbour. His plan was to approach out of range of most of the Algerian guns and then for his five largest ships – his flagship Queen Charlotte (100 guns), Impregnable (98) and the three 74s ( Albion, Minden, and Superb) – to anchor in line roughly parallel with the mole enclosing the harbour and bombard the over two hundred guns of the main defensive battery positioned along it. Concurrently Leander (50) would take up position outside the harbour entrance and bring her fire to bear on the ships inside, herself protected from guns along the adjacent shore by the 40-gun frigates Severn and Glasgow.
Captain Elliot and the Founding of Hong Kong Page 3
