by Roger Knight
Naval manning continued to be difficult. In ports all over the country resistance to the press gang by seamen stymied the navy’s efforts to man its warships. Likely naval seamen joined the militia to evade the press, a loophole that in theory was closed by the Defence of the Realm Act of 1803.56 Press-gang brawls were even more prevalent than at the beginning of the previous war: seventy-five disturbances were reported in the newspapers between March 1803 and the end of the year. At Portland in Dorset, the quarrymen resisted the press gang and three local men were killed: the naval lieutenants commanding the press gang were charged with ‘wilful murder’ at the Dorset Assizes, though they were acquitted when the case was moved to the King’s Bench.57 The navy had a maritime equivalent of the volunteers, the Sea Fencibles, who were recruited, as Steel’s Navy List had it, ‘for the protection of the coast, either on-shore or afloat; comprising all fishermen and other persons occupied in the ports and on the coast, who, from their occupations are not liable to be impressed’.58 Serving under the orders of Admiral Lord Keith, this force was relatively small, reaching only 30,000 by 1805. The Admiralty wanted more men to be recruited for both the regular navy and the Sea Fencibles, but was concerned that men who were needed in the navy were finding refuge by volunteering for the Sea Fencibles, by which means they were protected from impressment.59
On to the scene, briefly and rather incongruously, came Rear-Admiral Arthur Phillip, whom we last saw collecting intelligence at Toulon in 1784, since when he had commanded the First Fleet to Australia. Appointed inspector of the impress service, he was commissioned to report on the Sea Fencibles and impressment. For over a year Phillip travelled along the coasts of Britain, accompanied by a secretary. Not surprisingly, he encountered an immense variation in different parts of the country, with the militant Tynesiders and remote Norfolk furnishing the least number of Sea Fencibles. He also found a belief among the local seafarers that coming forward for the Fencibles would lead to impressment. For instance, in Eastbourne and Pevensey on the south coast, 63 per cent of the mackerel and lobster fishermen who enrolled for the Sea Fencibles were ‘in general [a] very stout and able set of young men’ whom Phillip felt should be in the navy. In Hastings he found the ‘pilots’ very rough, engaged in smuggling; ‘they cannot be easily impressed,’ he reported. Overall, he recognized that many seamen suitable for the navy were eluding him.* A subsequent investigation into the problem by the pugnacious Rear-Admiral George Berkeley found widespread evasion in the West Country fishing ports, which exasperated him, as he reported to the Admiralty: ‘exemption from the Impress & Ballot is now claimed as a sort of Right by these men, established by custom & riveted by the Sea Fencible System … every sort of service has been absolutely refused which could in the least interfere with their private occupations.’60 Lord Keith went further, writing indignantly to the Admiralty in 1805 of the Sea Fencibles from Deal, Dover and Folkestone: ‘[they] regard themselves in a manner completely independent of the service, and as having a kind of prescriptive right to defraud the revenue and pillage individuals.’61
Naval establishments on land were guarded by their civilian employees. Over 4,000 volunteers guarded the six home dockyards, strategically critical sites. The Dockyard Regiment at Portsmouth, for instance, had a complement of over 1,000.62 To those who spent their lives in these great industrial establishments, it seemed natural to agree with the Navy Board’s statement that the ‘Defence of the Magazines is Absolutely necessary.’ John Tyson, Nelson’s secretary at the time of the Battle of the Nile, and now clerk of the survey at Woolwich Dockyard, wrote cheerfully to his old chief: ‘Little did I think after serving Thirty Years at Sea to have turned Soldier in my old Age. We have four companies in this yard and I have the Honor to be Captain of them.’63 Each of the dockyards had its own volunteer regiment and the resident commissioner served as its colonel. The Admiralty issued the officers’ commissions and, together with the Navy Board, debated the detail of the uniforms for the dockyard volunteers, revealing the importance that was attached to such conventions, and the small but significant differences that marked out the different ranks.* Captains Sir Charles Saxton and Robert Fanshawe, respectively commissioners at Portsmouth and Plymouth dockyards, agreed with the uniforms proposed by the Navy Board, ‘except the epaulets and Cocked Hat’.64
In the courtyard of Somerset House in 1804 the Somerset Place Volunteers drilled, formed ‘Solely for the Defence of Somerset House’.65 They were commanded by the Rt Hon. George Tierney, maverick politician and the current treasurer of the navy, but also lieutenant-colonel for the duration of the emergency. Under his command were eight companies totalling 380 officers and men. Among Tierney’s officers were two naval captains, Henry Duncan and Samuel Gambier, members of the Navy Board, and George Phillips Towry, the long-serving vice-chairman of the Victualling Board, aged seventy-one.66 Age was likewise no bar to another remarkable initiative by the pilotage and buoyage service, Trinity House. Eight old naval frigates were fitted out and armed to serve as blockships at the mouth of the River Thames near Tilbury, manned by the Royal Trinity House Volunteer Artillery and commanded by pensioned and half-pay officers, 1,200 strong, and safe from impressment because Trinity House was empowered to issue protections. To make the tedious duty bearable, only half the crew was aboard at any one time. This motley force was commanded by the deputy master of Trinity House, now appointed lieutenant-colonel, who had quarters aboard the Trinity yacht, which was assisted by two royal yachts. At a public dinner at the London Tavern on 3 October 1803, attended by the master of the Corporation, William Pitt, now honorary colonel of the new force, the officers were sworn in. George Rose described the scene:
The sight was an extremely affecting one – a number of gallant and exceedingly good old men, who had, during the best part of their lives been beating the waves, now coming forward with the zeal and spirit of lads, swearing allegiance to the King, with a determined purpose to act manfully in his defence, and for the protection of the capital.67
The project continued for two years, although it attracted much criticism. Canning, out of office, made his view of the blockships known with a typically sharp squib:
If blocks could the nation deliver
Two places are safe from the French;
The one is the mouth of the river
The other the Treasury Bench.68
It is easy to write off the potential military effectiveness of the volunteers, for they were, like the Home Guard in the Second World War, never tested. There is no doubt, however, that, while the initial motive for the formation of the volunteers in the 1790s might have been fear of internal enemies, by the beginning of the Napoleonic War ‘a patriotism developed that invoked defence and survival of the nation in the face of threatened conquest’.69 Some, who were subject to military law and the Mutiny Act and received daily or weekly pay and had a higher military value than a private soldier – for example sergeants, trumpeters, buglers and drummers – were seen as belonging to the permanent establishment and therefore governed under military discipline. In November 1803 the Bank of England directors wished to settle a question on the discipline of the Bank’s volunteers and asked their solicitors Freshfields for an opinion as to whether it was legal for trumpeters, buglers and drummers who received pay for their services, but who had not been ‘attested’ (sworn an oath of allegiance), to be subject to the Mutiny Act or Articles of War: the opinion of the lawyer, having ‘perused 42 Geo III c. 66 and 43 Geo III c. 121’, was that they were liable. In 1804 a drummer in the third company of the Royal East India Volunteers was found guilty by court martial of desertion: a sentence of 500 lashes was reduced to 50 in consideration of his extreme youth. In the event, the officer commanding called a halt after four strokes and remitted the rest of the sentence.70 Though these cases were rare, punishments did occur, usually for desertion.71
Some observers thought the standards of volunteers were high.72 Colonel Hanger claimed that in general their marksmanship was good
, comparing them favourably with regulars, and citing one experienced corps where the volunteers could ‘throw three balls out of five into the target, at one hundred and one hundred and twenty yards’. He could furnish ‘many more instances of their very superior skill in firing ball … I have seen many of their targets riddled.’73 The Light Horse Volunteers of London and Westminster impressed the young George Cruikshank: ‘I once saw this regiment go through their exercise on a field-day on Finchley Common. A finer regiment of cavalry I never saw, nor have I ever seen regulars more perfect in the evolutions.’74*At the other end of the country, in Cornwall, the Artillery Volunteers, charged with the defence of Pendennis Castle overlooking Falmouth Harbour, and over 500 strong in 1803, were brought to an effective force through the command of an invalid ex-regular officer. In 1807 and 1808 their inspection reports read: ‘Fit to act with Troops of the Line’. After 1809 they were absorbed into the militia. The report of 1810 read: ‘The evolutions and firings were made with all the steadiness and exactness of regular troops.’75
Some regular soldiers were impressed by the volunteers. By March 1804 General Fox was able to report to Major General Calvert that ‘I have the satisfaction in observing that there appears without exception a general zeal and order for the Public Service … the majority of them (both Cavalry and Infantry) are in my opinion fit to be joined to Regular Troops.’76 Perhaps the most authoritative judgement came from old Lord Cornwallis, fretting in the country at the inactivity of retirement and not easy to please. In December 1803 he wrote to his old friend Lieutenant-General Ross that ‘no man, whether civil or military, will persuade me that 300,000 men, trained as the volunteers at present are, do not add very materially to the confidence, and to the actual security of this country.’77
But politicians were divided over the merits of the system. Charles James Fox chastised the volunteers for their ‘theatrical ostentatious foppery … fit for nothing but to be put on the top of a hill to be looked at’; nevertheless, in the general enthusiasm for springing to the defence of the country, even he found it useful to appear in the uniform of his local corps.78 William Pitt and Henry Dundas were colonels of prominent volunteer regiments: between them they commanded 5,000 men.* Liverpool and Palmerston were active supporters of militia or volunteer regiments and although Portland was too old and ill, his sons served in uniform. Lord Hobart, secretary of state for war in Addington’s government, and his fellow cabinet member Charles Philip Yorke, both active colonels of militia regiments, were doubtful of the military capability of volunteers.79 Among several published critics of the volunteers was the ex-soldier William Cobbett, who wanted a national citizen militia.80 According to George Hanger, Cobbett had described the volunteers as ‘nothing better than a rabble, blocking up the roads and preventing the regular troops from acting’. Hanger mounted a passionate defence of Pitt and of the volunteers, his wrath falling mainly on Cobbett: ‘May the indignation of the British nation be poured down on the head of so daring and insolent an assassin of the public spirit.’81
Some fierce rivalries existed, too, among the volunteer corps themselves. In larger urban areas, such as Liverpool, volunteer bodies became politicized, while, of two volunteer corps in Manchester, one was exclusively Tory and another Whig, and on at least one occasion political differences led to a duel between commanding officers.82 On another occasion two witnesses described a joint exercise at Wood Green in north London, ‘when the Islington volunteers represented the English and the Hackney and Stoke Newington Volunteers the French. The Hackney Volunteers were so resolute not liking to represent the French, that the engagement nearly terminated with a real fight. A man … was stabbed with a bayonet in the thigh and several were wounded by cartridges.’ The second witness continued:
There was not the least understanding with the officers which company was to fire and [which] retreat, and they actually advanced and fired until their bayonets came into contact and the blood ran down their faces with the sting of powder. The Hackney corps added to put the Islington out of temper, for they took aim with their rifles and the wadding struck many of them and at last they got into great disorder. At this point a general brawl ensued that was only stopped by the Colonel plunging in on horseback where he begged them ‘for God’s sake to desist’.83
The volunteers, however, were an integral part of the duke of York’s plan for the defence of the kingdom. In July 1803 the commander-in-chief sent an order to general officers commanding districts: ‘the great object of the irregular Troops must be to Harass, alarm and Fatigue an enemy – nothing can more effectually contribute to this object than the operations of small bodies of men well acquainted with the country who will approach and fire upon the advanced Post of His army without ever engaging in serious action or hazarding themselves.’84 The yeomanry cavalry would likewise have a secondary role: to enforce civil order, as specified in his memorandum by Addington. Henry Dundas informed Lord Grenville:
The regular cavalry should be reserved for regular attack upon the enemy. The yeomanry cavalry should have their chief attention directed to preserve the internal quiet of the country. The provisional cavalry should be employed in driving the cattle, and such other business of a Hussar nature as may occur in each district.85
Regulars were to be used as front-line troops, for it would have been, in Colonel Bunbury’s words, ‘madness in the British to have risked a general battle in the field … our troops were not then of [sufficient] quality’.86 In July 1804, for instance, over 18,000 regular troops were stationed in Sussex, with 20,000 more to be deployed within two days of an invasion, being brought to the fighting rapidly in a very few hours, as Bunbury adds, by carriages and fish-carts.87 In this county alone sixteen temporary hutted camps were built to house infantry between 1803 and 1805, with another five for cavalry.88
In each succeeding month that Napoleon did not attempt the Channel crossing, confidence grew among the defending forces. In March 1805 Major General Henry Lord Paget wrote to his brother of his regulars, ‘Mine will be a wonderful Regiment next year … Believe me that wherever the British appear, they will carry all before them.’89 Colonel Bunbury reckoned that, had Napoleon invaded in the winter of 1803, his chances of success would have been far greater than in 1804, by which time defensive measures were far more advanced. Bunbury saw the high command from close quarters. He described the duke of York as ‘indefatigable, energetic, and just’, and noted that the duke had praised the ‘able assistants in his Adjutant and Quartermaster-Generals, Harry Calvert and Robert Brownrigg’ (the latter had succeeded David Dundas as quartermaster-general in March 1803).90 As the invasion threat receded, the sceptics among the politicians began to feel that they were being proved right. In September 1804 the marquess of Buckingham wrote to his brother Lord Grenville on Addington’s invasion measures: ‘Sir Brook Watson [the commissary-general] is a most excellent ally in the military project of crying out for invasion; but charms he never so wisely, I cannot find one creature who believes it will be attempted.’91
It was easy for the Opposition to criticize, but the potential of the French invasion force could not be ignored, until Napoleon suddenly, on 23 August 1805, ordered the Grand Army to break camp and march to central Europe to counter a new threat from Austria. By early October the British government calculated that the immediate crisis was over. In the Treasury at Whitehall, William Sturges Bourne, senior secretary to the Board, requested Sir Brook Watson to recommend measures for dismantling the elaborate civilian provisioning arrangements. Watson proposed cuts worth £83,000 a year, a considerable sum, which indicates that the temporary measures in London were substantial.92
From mid 1805, a two-year interlude was enjoyed. Napoleon was preoccupied with campaigns in northern and eastern Europe until July 1807, when he signed the Treaty of Tilsit with the Russian emperor. Britain, for most of that period after the success of Trafalgar, with the Ministry of All the Talents in power, had the freedom to send British expeditions to recapture the
Cape of Good Hope and the islands in the West Indies, although, as has been noted in Chapter 8, the opportunist attempt to take Montevideo and Buenos Aires was an abject failure. But in the middle of 1807, having secured Europe at the Treaty of Tilsit, Napoleon once again turned his attention to an invasion of Britain.93
The emperor’s letters to his minister of marine, Denis Decrès, show how consistent was his intention of invading Britain. In March 1808, for instance, he wanted to concentrate invasion flotillas in Dutch ports rather than at Boulogne and Calais. In a draft plan sent in September 1810, he asked his minister: ‘Let me know what sort of boats can be built at Dordrecht: I would like to build there a flotilla capable of carrying to Ireland or Scotland a force of four divisions, each of ten battalions or 8,000 men, making 32,000 infantry, 4,000 gunners and engineers and 6,000 cavalry and 120 field guns …’ In August 1811 he was asking Decrés, ‘Which is the port which should be preferred for assembling my squadron of the [Atlantic] Ocean? I see only two possible choices: Cherbourg or Brest. Which of these ports offers the most opportunities for a landing in England or Ireland?’ Even after his return from the disastrous retreat from Moscow, he was still planning naval expansion. By now, his lack of reality on the resources available to him was palpable, but he had lost none of his ambition.* In July 1811 a long memorandum dated the end of June, containing the emperor’s expansionist naval programme, appeared in The Times in London.94 In Britain the fear of invasion never fully evaporated until Napoleon finally destroyed his army by choosing to invade Russia in 1812.
