Every Man Will Do His Duty

by Dean King

  Whether well educated or less so, the writers have frequently borrowed from historians of the day to help set their experiences in place. Basil Hall, for example, frequently cites General Sir William Francis Patrick Napier’s history of the Peninsular War when setting the scene for the Battle of Corunna, which he witnessed.

  In some cases the seamen are working from journals or writing shortly after the events occurred. William Henry Dillon recorded the events of his career, which included a stint in the Impress Service and several years in French prisons, in a series of letters to his first cousin and good friend Sir John Joseph Dillon. Later he used these letters in creating his seven-notebook, twenty-six-hundred-page manuscript. Bethune’s account of the Battle of Cape St. Vincent was originally written as a letter to his father.

  Other stories, such as George Little’s, were written well after the event by aging and often financially strapped seamen. Many of these state in apologetic prefaces that they were compelled to write by friends and family, who so desired the authors to record their lives at sea that their humble natures were forcibly overcome. Little was, in fact, blind, and so dictated his story.

  The degree of detail and flow of events correspond to the amount of time between the action and the writing, and whether or not the writer has kept any sort of diary. Each type of account has its own intrinsic merits and demerits that must be borne in mind during the reading. Accounts written very near the time of the event often contain fairly accurate dialogue and crisp details. But too much detail can be tedious, and enthusiasm combined with lack of perspective can cloud the author’s judgment. More distantly scribed sea accounts are frequently well seasoned from the retellings and should be taken with a grain of salt. The minutiae that indicate accuracy have been washed away by the sea of years. The gauntlet of time that has buried lesser accounts has also frequently rounded the surviving narrative, like it has King Offa’s dyke, into a beautiful, mythic form.

  SINCE THESE ARE by and large the accounts of the men who fought the battles, their vantage points were frequently limited. Midshipman Dillon describes the Glorious First of June from the lower deck of HMS Defence, the first ship into action. Locked in a cabin on board the French frigate La Forte, merchant captain Eastwick describes a battle—between two powerful frigates, La Forte, 50 guns, and HMS La Sybille, 44 guns—that he didn’t see. He did, however, have to duck friendly shot that pierced the cabin. Together these portraits of war tell not just what happened but what it actually was like to be there.

  Some of these accounts, like Beatty’s, Cochrane’s, Gardner’s, and Robinson’s, are considered classics. As Christopher Lloyd writes in his 1955 introduction to James Anthony Gardner’s comparatively “racy and colourful” memoirs, “These recollections have been the favourite reading of members of the Navy Record Society since they were first printed for the Society in 1906.” Others here are less well known but equally as powerful. Jacob Nagle’s was only recently discovered by Professor John Dann and published for the first time in 1988.

  While the viewpoint is primarily British, there are several Americans represented here. Some of the Americans fought in the Royal Navy by choice—Nagle fought against the British during the American Revolution and for them during the French Revolutionary War—and some were coerced. While the rest of his shipmates frolicked on land just prior to embarking on a cruise, James Durand slept on board his ship to avoid any risk of falling prey to the hot press in Plymouth. They escaped it; he didn’t, and he bitterly resented the treatment he and other Yankee sailors received on board a British man-of-war. Samuel Leech, on the other hand, fought for the British, was taken in a bloody frigate action by the USS United States, and later shipped in the U.S. Navy. Such were the vagaries of war.

  ONE FINAL NOTE on the episodes that follow: you will notice that some authors appear more than once. For instance, William Richardson, who tells of his early service after being impressed in India in 1793, later narrates the interesting action at Basque Roads, where, he complains, those who performed the dangerous work—rigging fire-ships with explosives—received no recognition for it. William Dillon, who wrote one of the most extensive and detailed diaries of the wars, gives two accounts, one of the Glorious First of June and another of a much-honored single-ship action in which he fought against great odds. And Basil Hall narrates two episodes in Every Man Will Do His Duty, only one of which is a battle on land, where he is merely an observer. But Hall’s accounts vividly capture life in the Royal Navy during the time. Being present with him at the Battle of Corunna is truly thrilling.

  I hope that the time lapse between the stories of these writers, and several others who appear more than once in this book, sheds some light on how the authors’ lives and naval careers progressed and how they become more interesting as people. Ultimately this war, like any war, was fought by individuals, and they had to make very personal decisions, often under great duress.

  IN ANY EVENT, I hope this collection presents an informative cross-section of the firsthand accounts that exist from the great Age of Nelson, that it is evocative of the many varied experiences of naval life during this period, and that it catches many of the highlights of the period’s memoirs. Above all, I hope that these accounts provide today’s readers, as they have those of previous generations, splendid reading.

  DEAN KING

  Editorial Note

  THE TEXTS FOR THIS book were previously published, not taken from original manuscripts. They were edited minimally to conform to modern grammatical standards (for example, quotation marks, capitalization, the italicizing of ship names, and the use of numbers and numerals have been standardized, in most cases). Occasionally the punctuation has been altered for clarity, and, in some places, paragraph breaks were added for readability. Spellings have not been altered, except in a very few cases where it was necessary to prevent confusion. All bracketed material and footnotes that have been added by the editors of this book are italicized. All other notes are those of the original editor, though they were altered in places to conform to the style for this edition. For additional bibliographical information, see the Notes on the Texts section, beginning on page 407.

  By request of the original editor, no changes were made to the two passages written by Jacob Nagle.

  Abbreviations

  SOME VARIATION OF THE following abbreviations will be seen after the names of many of the editors and authors of the histories in this book.

  C.B. = Companion of the Order of the Bath

  C.B.E. = Commander of the Order of the British Empire

  D.Litt. = Doctor of Literature

  F.R.C.S. = Fellow of the Royal College of Surgeons

  F.R.Hist.S. = Fellow of the Royal Historical Society

  F.R.S. = Fellow of the Royal Society

  F.S.A. = Fellow of the Society of Antiquaries

  G.C.B. = Knight Grand Cross of the Order of the Bath

  K.C.H. = Knight Commander of the Order of Hanover

  K.H. = Knight of Hanover

  M.A. = Master of Arts

  R.E. = Royal Engineers

  R.N. = Royal Navy

  List of Maps and Charts

  Map of the Actions: World

  Map of the Actions: Europe

  The Battle of the Glorious First of June

  The Battle of Cape St. Vincent

  The Audacious Cruise of the Speedy

  The Battle of Trafalgar

  The Battle in the Aix Roads

  A Yankee Cruiser in the South Pacific

  His Lordship came to me on the poop, and, after ordering certain Signals to be made, about a quarter to noon, said, “Mr. Pasco, I want to say to the fleet, ‘England confides that every man will do his duty.’” He added, “You must be quick, for I have one more to add, which is for ‘Close Action.’” I replied, “If your Lordship will permit me to substitute expects for confides, the Signal will soon be completed, because the word expects is in the vocabulary, and confides must be spelt.” His Lordship replied in
haste, and with seeming satisfaction, “that will do, Pasco, make it directly.”

  As the last hoist was hauled down, Nelson turned to Captain Blackwood, who was standing by him, with, “Now I can do no more. We must trust to the great Disposer of all events, and the justice of our cause. I thank God for this great opportunity of doing my duty.”

  When Lord Nelson’s message had been answered by a few ships in the van, he ordered me to make the signal for “Close Action” and keep it up. Accordingly I hoisted No. 16 at the top-gallant masthead, and there it remained until shot away.

  —Pasco, the Victory’s signal lieutenant

  Gratuities to the Relations of Officers and Others Killed in Action

  1. TO A WIDOW, her husband’s full pay for a year.

  2. Orphans, each the one-third proportion of a widow; posthumous children are esteemed orphans.

  3. Orphans married are not entitled to any bounty.

  4. If there is no widow, a mother, if a widow and above fifty years of age, is entitled to a widow’s share.

  5. The relations of officers of fire-ships are entitled to the same bounty as those of officers of like rank in fourth rates.

  6. Captains are to set down the names of the killed at the end of the muster book, and on what occasion.

  7. This bounty extends to those who are killed in tenders, in boats, or on shore, as well as to those on board the ships; also to those who are killed in action with pirates, or in engaging British ships through mistake. They who die of their wounds after battle are all equally entitled with those killed in action.

  —The Naval Chronicle, 1799

  Part I

  The War of the French Revolution

  William Richardson

  In the King’s Service

  1793–1794

  AT THE OUTBREAK OF the war King George’s fleet numbered some 115 vessels, including seventy-five ships of the line. France’s fleet numbered only seventy-six, but her dockyards were operating at full tilt. Both nations took stock of their naval forces around the globe and rushed to augment them. In the East Indies, the British possessed three frigates, the most powerful of which was the Minerva, and two smaller craft. Among the Royal Navy’s new recruits was William Richardson.

  After thirteen perilous years in the merchant service, Richardson was picked up by the press gang in Calcutta to face even more hardships in the Royal Navy. In this passage, the Navy turns a batch of raw recruits into a taut crew. Richardson, expecting the war to be short-lived, opts not to desert, and later regrets it.

  THE MINERVA WAS a fine large frigate, with a poop lately erected on her for the convenience of the admiral and captain, and mounting 48 guns. I was stationed to do any duty in the maintop; all my clothes were on my back, and with an old silver watch and one rupee, which constituted my all, I had now, as it were, the world to begin again; and a poor prospect I had before me. I had no bed, neither did I care for any, for my bones had got so hardened since I came to sea that I could sleep as comfortable on a chest lid or on the deck as on the best bed in the ship; and having only one shirt, I went without when I had to wash and dry it.

  The Bien Aimé was bought into H.M.’s Service, and Lieutenant King (since Sir Richard King) was appointed to her as master and commander; she was officered and manned totally from the Minerva and the Minerva’s crew (filled up by pressing out of the East Indiamen as they arrived from Europe), and a great many able seamen we got out of them.

  Soon after this Lord Cornwallis1 came on board, and we got under way; he was brother to our admiral [Sir William Cornwallis, 1744–1819],and we proceeded to Pondicherry. A day or two after we came to anchor off that place, and his lordship went on shore to view the works: it was at one time in contemplation to blow them up, but that was not done. He returned on board again, we got under way, returned to Madras Roads, and landed his lordship again.

  One of these evenings, as I was sitting on the coamings of the after-hatchway pondering my hard fate, Mr. Robinson, our first lieutenant, a worthy and good man, observed me, and sent for me to his cabin; and then, taking a sheet from off his bed, gave it to me and told me to get some clothes made from it, and said that when his dabash (a gentoo [a gentile, or non-Mohammedan] agent) came on board he would give me a good rig-out of clothing; but the ship sailed before he came, and so disappointed us. However, I got a light jacket and two pairs of trousers made from the sheet, and was very thankful for his kindness to me, a stranger.

  There were no slops at this time on board the Minerva; the purser at stated periods served out to the ship’s company so many yards of dungaree as were required to each man for jackets, shirts and trousers, with needles and thread for them; and my messmates, being a set of good fellows and accustomed to the work, soon taught me to cut out and make them, by which means I soon got a good rig-out and a new straw hat, which I made by their instructions; as for shoes and stockings, they were not worn by sailors in this hot country.

  Shortly after this Lord Cornwallis embarked on board the Swallow packet for a passage to England, and we, with the Bien Aimé, got under way and convoyed her clear of the Mauritius, where the French had several ships of force lying. We then proceeded to the Island of Diego Garcia, one of the Mauritius Islands, and having been told that a French frigate and brig were lying there, and as it was thought there might be an occasion for landing, 150 of our crew were picked out to be trained to the use of small arms, and I was one of the number. Nothing could be more diverting than to see the blunders we made at the first beginning: we were arranged in two lines along the quarterdeck, with the captain and fugleman2 in our front, and the booms full of people laughing and grinning at us; some put their muskets on the wrong shoulder, some let the butt fall on their next neighbour’s toes, some could not stand with their backs straight up, and were threatened in having a cross-bar lashed to it, and some had their shoulders chalked by the captain that they might know the right from the left, which only bothered them the more; in short, there was nothing but blunders for a week or two, and then we began to mend.

  This exercise was performed twice every day, and for our encouragement when over we were marched, with drum and fife playing before us, round the quarterdeck gangway and forecastle, and in the evening had an extra pint of grog each; but the awkward squad had to stand on one side with their muskets presented to us as we marched past them, and not allowed extra grog. We improved so in the course of a few weeks that it was said we fired a better volley than the marines.

  When we arrived off Diego Garcia we hoisted French colours, and, though the wind was against us, worked the ship into the harbour and there came to anchor. We saw no frigate, but discovered a brig lying at the upper end of the harbour, and immediately sent our boats manned and armed to take possession of her, which they soon did, as the crew and few inhabitants, who are turtle catchers, fled into the woods for safety.

  This is a noted place for catching turtle, and we found a pen with two hundred in it. The island is low and very woody, and the harbour a good-sized one; and, as we were in want of fresh water, we digged holes deep enough for each cask bung deep, and, putting them down in the evening, we found them full in the morning; but it was rather brackish, and only served for cooking. Our people caught several wild pigs here, which were good eating. In the course of their rambles several lascars who were hidden in the woods, hearing our people speak English, came and delivered themselves up to them: they said they had been wrecked here in an English ship belonging to Bombay several months ago, and, being afraid to deliver themselves up to the French for fear they would have sent them to the Mauritius and sold them for slaves, they had hid themselves in the woods and lived on cocoanuts and what else they could find there; so we took them all on board, and, when we arrived at Bombay, discharged them, to their great satisfaction.

  Having nothing more to do to draw our attention here, we loaded the brig with turtles, and got near fifty on board the Minerva and the Bien Aimé, being as many as we could conveniently stow o
n the main deck between the guns; then, setting fire to the poor Frenchmen’s huts (which happened to be on Guy Fawkes’ day, November 5th, 1793), we got under way, and stood out to sea.

  We shaped our course for one day, and each day lived like aldermen on turtle soup: every evening for near six weeks, a turtle was hung up to the skids by its two hind fins and the head cut off to let it bleed; and although each one was large enough to serve a day for our crew of three hundred men, scarcely half a pint of blood came from it. Next morning it was cut up and put into coppers, and when boiled, served out to all hands with two or three bucketsful of eggs into the bargain.

  About midway on our passage we parted company one dark night with the Bien Aimé and brig, and when we got on the Malabar coast came to anchor off Tilicherry, where our admiral went on shore, but soon returned again with intelligence of a large frigate and a brig having passed that way, steering to the northward; and as we made sure they must be enemies, we got under way immediately and steered our course after them. On the following night, as we were going along with a fine breeze from the east, and a fore topmast steering sail set, we saw a large frigate and a brig pass us to windward, but on the other tack; and instead of putting our ship about to follow her, Captain Whitby ordered the hammocks to be piped up and the drummer to beat to quarters, and then gave his chief attention to us at the quarterdeck guns, in seeing that we primed them in a proper manner. Although I was a young man-of-war’s man, I had my thoughts, and was surprised that he did not put the ship about and stand after the enemy.