by Sam Willis
Moreover, if Duckworth did chase, how long should he chase for? Should he head into the Atlantic for one day, maybe two, and then return to base or to his blockade? Or should he take his pursuit further, to the Caribbean or the East Indies? Should he even pursue his enemy wherever it took him? Such liberal orders were not unheard of, but they were always issued in a specific and known strategic situation such as Nelson’s madcap trans-Atlantic pursuit of Villeneuve in the spring and summer of 1805, or his Mediterranean hunt for the French in 1798 prior to the Battle of the Nile. In both instances, Nelson had been chosen to chase, had been ordered to chase and, by chasing, had not endangered the integrity of a more broadly conceived British naval strategy. Duckworth had no such orders, however. Even if the enemy was caught and brought to battle, there was, as yet, no way of knowing if the French escape was part of another more complex scheme to draw British blockading forces away from the coast of Europe and hence enable the main strike of a new offensive to fall elsewhere. And if that was the case, then to chase the unidentified enemy squadron was to play directly into the enemy’s hands.
Duckworth was certainly placed in an awkward situation and he had no recourse to higher authority, but by no means all British naval officers would have done what he did. To understand the reasons for his decision to abandon his station and head for the mid-Atlantic, we must peer into Duckworth’s past.
The Aspirant
The only images of Duckworth that have survived are copies of a famous portrait made shortly after San Domingo (fig. 20), in which he wears the medals he received for The Glorious First of June as well as for the later battle. He is captured almost in motion, his sword tucked under his arm as if hurrying off to an urgent appointment, his eyebrows slightly raised, possibly in surprise, probably in confusion. He appears slightly ridiculous.
Duckworth was the son of a parson. His family was long-settled in Lancashire but had no titles or honours to its name. Nelson was also a parson’s son and Duckworth had seen Nelson’s star rise from plain old Horatio Nelson to the extraordinary title that is now inscribed on his tomb in St Paul’s:
The Most Noble Lord Horatio Nelson, Viscount and Baron Nelson, of the Nile and of Burnham Thorpe in the County of Norfolk, Baron Nelson of the Nile and of Hilborough in the said County, Knight of the Most Honourable Order of the Bath, Vice-Admiral of the White Squadron of the Fleet, Commander in Chief of his Majesty’s Ships and Vessels in the Mediterranean, Duke of Bronté in the Kingdom of Sicily, Knight Grand Cross of the Sicilian Order of St Ferdinand and of Merit, member of the Ottoman Order of the Crescent, Knight Grand Commander of the Order of St Joachim.
In February 1806 John Duckworth had achieved equal rank to Nelson, becoming a Vice-Admiral of the White, and had also received a KB for successful operations in 1802 against Swedish and Danish possessions in the Caribbean. However, he had also been frustrated in 1798 after the recapture of Minorca when he had made it painfully and unsubtly clear that he had expected a KB, if not a baronetcy, for his conduct. The Admiralty had been riled by his pretension ‘on which St Vincent, representing the matter to Lord Spencer, threw a sufficiency of cold water’.1 Duckworth had been competent at Minorca, but he had done nothing more than follow his superiors’ orders and nothing sufficiently dramatic to deserve such a reward.
Duckworth was therefore aggressively pursuing a dream of social advancement in a way that made many of his powerful political and professional superiors uncomfortable, if not irritated. In fact, he had rather a poor reputation and had already been court martialled three times.
The first two occasions, curiously, were over the same offence, though the charges were different. Serving in America in the early 1770s, he was first lieutenant of the frigate Diamond. Returning from a cruise, in which she had sailed with her guns loaded, the Diamond, according to custom, was required to fire a salute. Duckworth supervised the unloading of the cannon and counted the shot before giving the order to fire the salute, but one of the cannon had been double-shotted. The forgotten shot, fired from its gun, slammed into the hull of a nearby British ship and killed five men.
Duckworth was court martialled for neglect of duty and then, in an entirely separate court martial designed to head off action in the civil courts, was tried for murder. He was acquitted of both charges but his reputation was stained by the incident. His third court martial resulted from a decision he took during his command of the Jamaica station in 1804. Duckworth had installed a protégé as captain of a frigate and then sent it back to Britain laden with building goods for his new house just outside Exeter, apparently contravening several articles of war in the process. Yet again, however, he was acquitted, although his actions raised several troubling questions. Was he suited to high command? Was he irresponsible? Was he, even, corrupt?
His experience of fleet battle is also relevant. Duckworth joined the navy aged only 11, and served in Edward Boscawen’s flagship, Namur. Boscawen was a dashing fellow, a true precursor of Nelson. With the young Duckworth aboard in the summer of 1759, he chased and defeated a squadron of French ships off Lagos in one of the navy’s more dramatic victories. Duckworth then found himself transferred to the flagship of Edward Hawke, another fine model and another worthy precursor of Nelson. In Hawke’s service, Duckworth fought at the battle of Quiberon Bay in November 1759, a thunderous and overwhelming victory over a French fleet in coastal waters, at night, and during a storm.
Duckworth was thus blooded, very early on, in a type of naval warfare that emphasised spontaneity, intense violence and overwhelming victory. In the subsequent years, however, he took part in only one of the numerous fleet battles of the War of American Independence or the Revolutionary or Napoleonic Wars when he commanded the 74-gun Orion at The Glorious First of June. Crucially, however, he missed Trafalgar, the greatest battle of his generation, through no one’s fault but his own. Just before the battle, he had been appointed to replace the Earl of Northesk as Nelson’s third in command, but had refused to sail until his favourite band of musicians arrived, an extraordinary self-indulgence. So Duckworth had a record of thirsting for glory; he had experience of battle resulting from dramatic chases launched by fleet commanders in spur of the moment decisions; and he was frustrated at missing Trafalgar.
Duckworth’s flag captain, Richard Keats, was also frustrated. He had had an impressive fighting career in frigates and frigate squadrons and had fought with great skill during an impressive victory over the French and Spanish on 12 July 1801 at the Battle of Algeciras. He had, however, fought in none of the major large-scale fleet victories so far described. This must have grated for such a talented and aggressive officer who was highly regarded by Nelson. Indeed, at a meeting with Keats in the days before Nelson left for Cadiz before the Battle of Trafalgar, Nelson promised him the prestigious position of being his ‘second’ in any forthcoming battle, and a surviving order of battle issued before Trafalgar confirms this. The Superb is listed as second in line, astern of the Temeraire and immediately ahead of Nelson’s Victory.2 After Nelson’s chase of Villeneuve, however, Keats had been sent home to refit the Superb. She was ready in time to participate in Trafalgar but she had been chosen as Duckworth’s new flagship and so her departure from Portsmouth was delayed as he waited for his band. So Keats missed Trafalgar solely because of his association with Duckworth. This is likely to have been a cause of the subsequent falling out between the two men. When they finally sailed together for Cadiz, they barely spoke and occasionally communicated in writing to avoid contact with each other.
Moreover, there were several other frustrated officers in Duckworth’s squadron. Foremost of these was Rear-Admiral Thomas Louis.16 As a young officer, Louis had seen significant fleet action during the American War at the Battle of Ushant in 1778 and at Rodney’s celebrated destruction of a Spanish squadron in the Moonlight Battle of 1780. Louis had then served in Nelson’s Mediterranean squadron at the Battle of the Nile. Nelson considered Louis a close friend and his ship, the 80-gun Canopus, fo
rmed an important part of Nelson’s fleet as it whiled away the time off Cadiz just before the Battle of Trafalgar. Then, on 11 October, 10 days before the battle, Nelson ordered Louis to Gibraltar to secure water and supplies for the fleet and to escort an eastward-bound troop convoy past the Spanish naval base of Cartagena. Louis was horrified and reproached Nelson: ‘You are sending us away, my Lord – the enemy will come out, and we shall have no share in the battle.’3 Nelson characteristically turned the curse of unwanted duty into a compliment and replied: ‘I look upon Canopus as my right hand, and I send you first to insure your being here to help to beat them.’4 But the Canopus did not return in time for the battle and Louis never saw his friend again.
Among Duckworth’s other captains, Captain Pulteney Malcolm of the Donegal, the nephew of the famous naval warrior Thomas Pasley (pp. 64–7), had missed every single major battle of his time, as had the young Captain Samuel Pym of the Atlas, while Robert Stopford of the Spencer had fought at The Glorious First of June but had missed everything since. Indeed, the only captain in Duckworth’s squadron with significant recent battle experience was Edward Berry in the Agamemnon.
Duckworth, his flag captain, his rear-admiral and most of his captains were therefore champing at the bit to fight the French, wherever they could be found. And so, when Duckworth heard news of a nearby French squadron causing havoc among British convoys between Madeira and the Canary Islands, he immediately abandoned his post off Cadiz and chased. Having found nothing, he made his way back towards Cadiz, frustrated again. On that return journey, however, he heard news of yet another French squadron, which he erroneously believed to be the Rochefort squadron but which was, in fact, Willaumez sailing from Brest and bound for South America. Duckworth hared off after him, chasing another rumour.
The Goose Chase
This time Duckworth did find his prey, which he chased for 30 hours until his flagship was within only seven miles of the enemy. Both fleets were by now very strung out, with the sternmost of the British fleet as much as 45 miles behind Duckworth, who was in the lead. Although this was a significant distance, it was not unusual for a chasing fleet to find itself so spread out and there was a solution to the tactical problem it posed.
Duckworth could continue with his chase and harry the enemy rear in the hope of disabling one or even two enemy ships. As the fresh British ships then came up, the disabled enemy ships could be overwhelmed. To attack the enemy rear was thus to put the tactical onus on the commander of the escaping fleet. Should he continue with his escape or turn to protect his rearmost ships? If he did the latter, he would almost certainly bring about a general action. To attack the rearmost ships of the enemy was therefore to challenge both the escaping admiral’s sense of honour and to test his orders. Had he been ordered to avoid battle at all costs or, if threatened, was he permitted to fight?
Duckworth, however, did nothing. With the enemy in sight, and a gap of no more than six or seven miles between the leading British ship and the sternmost of the French, he abandoned his chase. In the fluid world of orders, expectation, honour and duty, his decision to abandon the chase was undoubtedly wrong because he had lost the opportunity of explaining or justifying his abandonment of Cadiz. He later expressed his concern that his flagship would be overwhelmed if the enemy chose to turn and fight, a curious mindset for someone who had invested so heavily in such a chase.
The result of this abandoned pursuit was that Duckworth was now deep in the Atlantic, far closer to the Caribbean than to his station off Cadiz, and he was running out of water. The French fleet had escaped, its destination unknown. Duckworth therefore headed for the Caribbean, arriving at Barbados in the second week of January, and then moved his squadron further north to St Kitts, where he met with the commander in chief of the Leeward Islands, Alexander Cochrane. Duckworth’s squadron of seven ships of the line now contained no less than three flag-officers, an extraordinary concentration of high-ranking officers for such a small force.
Eight days later, the squadron which had sailed from Brest under Leissègues, and not the squadron under Willaumez which Duckworth had just chased, arrived at San Domingo and unloaded 1,800 troops to reinforce General Ferrand in his continuing war against Dessalines. Word soon reached St Kitts that the French were nearby and Duckworth, seizing an opportunity to justify his presence in the Caribbean, hared off, for the third time, after a French squadron. The general intelligence that Duckworth had received was accurate but the detail was not. He believed that the force at San Domingo was only one part of a French fleet, the rest of which was somewhere to leeward.
This gave even greater impetus to this new chase because Duckworth was anxious to get at the French before they could unite. When the fleets finally sighted each other, they were both flying at eight knots, the maximum speed possible in the conditions and eight times faster than the speed at which most of the British ships attacked at Trafalgar. It was the most dramatic attack of any of the battles of the Revolutionary and Napoleonic Wars. Hitherto, they had all been ponderous, with both sides willing, if not entirely prepared, to fight. San Domingo was different, a pure chase. The French were trying desperately to escape to the safety of a nearby bay protected by shore batteries and the British were trying to stop them.
The French fleet was led by L’Impérial, an absolute monster of a ship, one of the Ocean Class of French First Rates built to inspire awe of the French military machine wherever they went. L’Impérial was larger than the mighty four-decked Spanish Santissima Trinidad and far larger than anything that the British had ever built, let alone anything in Duckworth’s fleet. The largest British ship at San Domingo was the 80-gun Canopus with a displacement of 2,258 tons,5 and a crew of 700. The 118-gun Impérial, in contrast, had a displacement greater by 671 tons, a crew of well over 1,000, and carried 3,265 square metres of canvas. Her sails blocked out the sun.
Laid down by the zealous revolutionaries of the early Republic, she was christened Peuple and then, in the aftermath of The Glorious First of June, became the Vengeur du Peuple in honour of the ship of that name which had fought so dramatically and sunk without surrender (pp. 67–8, fig. 4). In March 1805, three months after Napoleon had crowned himself Emperor, she was renamed again, this time as L’Impérial, the very embodiment of Napoleonic imperial ambition, majesty and pride. She was noteworthy among her class of huge First Rates because she was the first to carry 18-pounder cannon on her third deck, rather than the usual 12-pounders, a significant increase that set the standard for all subsequent First Rates.
The British had nothing to compare. British shipbuilding policy had focused in recent years on the construction of smaller ships in greater numbers. When the fleets met at San Domingo, the entire Royal Navy had only two First Rates of more than 100 guns, the recently launched 110-gun Hibernia and the 110-gun Ville de Paris, and both were far smaller than Impérial. The navy was still waiting for her first First Rate ship of 120 guns, HMS Caledonia, which had been ordered in 1794 but had still not been completed. Indeed, in 1806, the majority of British First Rates were from an altogether different generation: Britannia (1762), Victory (1765), Royal Sovereign (1786), Royal George (1788) and Queen Charlotte (1790). L’Impérial, therefore, was a ship of an altogether greater order. She would make a fine prize indeed and would sate the thirst for glory that pervaded Duckworth’s squadron.
The Dispatches
The Duckworth letters are interesting for their variety. Duckworth’s account of the battle is distinctive because there is such a contrast between the steady, elegant and flowing hand in which it is written and the rambling stream of consciousness it conveys. Duckworth’s secretary, Robert Sconce,6 a man of patience, thoughtfulness and stoicism, was responsible for the writing; and Duckworth, an over-excitable man in search of glory, was, unfortunately, responsible for the thinking. On the other hand, Duckworth’s letter of thanks to his fleet (p. 324) is both thoughtful and erudite. It is interesting that a man who could gather and express his thoughts when th
anking his men was left floundering with the more demanding task of narrating a complex event.
Admiral J. Duckworth to W. Marsden, 7 February 1806
Duckworth begins his account of the battle with an acknowledgement that his behaviour and current location require some serious explanation. He goes on to describe the battle in breathless fashion, appropriate for and reflective of the style in which the battle was fought, but rather unhelpful in an official dispatch. One of Duckworth’s sentences is 231 words long and includes 19 commas, five semi-colons, one colon, and two dashes. Anyone who can make sense of this letter should win a prize.
SUPERB, OFF TOWN OF ST. DOMINGUE
FEBY 7th 1806
Sir
As I feel it highly momentous for His Majestys Service that the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty should have the earliest information of the movements of the Squadron under my Command and as I have no other Vessel than the Kings Fisher that I feel justified in Dispatching, I hope neither their Lordships or Vice Admiral Collingwood will deem me defective in my Duty towards His Lordship by addressing you on the happy event of yesterday: and as you will receive my Letter of the 3d Instant herewith, I shall only say I lost not a moment in getting through the Mona Passage,17 and on the 5th in the Afternoon was joined by the Magicienne with a further corroboration from various Vessels Spoken of an Enemys Force of ten Sailes of the Line; with as many Frigates, & Corvettes being in these Seas. I therefore continued under easy Sail for the Night in my approach off the Town of Santa Domingue, having given Orders to Captain Dunn of the Acasta (whose zeal, and activity I have experienced for a series of years) to make Sail with the Magicienne Captain Mckenzie two Hours before Day Light to reconnoitre when at 6 OClock the Acasta to our great Joy, made the Signal for two of the Enemy’s Frigates, and before 7 for 9 Sails at an Anchor, at half past that they were getting under weigh: The Squadron under my Command then in close order with all Sail set, and the Superb bearing my Flag leading and approaching fast so as to discover before 8 o’ clock that the Enemy were in a compact Line under all Sail going before the Wind, for Cape Nisao to windward of Ocoa Bay; and as they consisted of only five Sail of the Line, two Frigates, and a Corvette (which hereafter shall be named) I concluded from the information I was in possession of that they were endeavouring to form a junction with their remaining force, and in consequence shaped my Course to render abortive such intention, which was compleatly effected by a little after nine, so as to make an Action certain. I therefore Telegraphed the Squadron that the principal Object of Attack would be the Admiral, and His Seconds and at three Quarters past nine for the Ships to take stations for their mutual support, and Engage the Enemy as they got up. and a few minutes after to Engage as close as possible, when at a short period after ten the Superb closed upon the Bow of L’Alexandre the leading Ship and commenced the Action, but after three Broad Sides she sheered off, the Signal was now made for closer Action, and we were enabled to Attack the Admiral in L’Imperial (formerly Le Vengeur) the Fire of which had been heavy upon the Northumberland bearing the Honble Rear Admiral Cochranes Flag. By this Time the movement of L’Alexandre had thrown her among the Lee Division, which Rear Admiral Louis happily availed himself of, and the Action became general and continued with great severity till half past Eleven when the French Admiral much shattered, and compleatly Beat hauled direct for the Land, and not being a mile off, at 20 minutes before noon ran on Shore, Her Foremast then only standing which fell directly on her Striking, at which time the Superb being only in 17 Fathoms water was forced to haul directly off to avoid the same Evil; but not long after the Diomede of 84 Guns pushed on Shore near His Admiral when all His Masts went, and I think it a Duty I owe to Character, and my Country to add from the information of Captain Berry after she had Struck, and the Agamemnon desisted from Firing into Her; from the Captain taking off His Hat and making every token of surrender; and Captain Dunn assures me both the Ensign, and Pendant were down, to comment upon which I leave the World! – About 50 Minutes After eleven the Firing ceased, and upon the Smoke clearing away; I found Le Braave bearing a Commodore’s Pendant, LAlexandre, and Le Jupiter in our possession – When I contemplate on the result of this Action, and that five Sail of the Line had Surrendered or were apparently destroyed in less than two Hours; I cannot though Bound to Pay every Tribute to the noble, and gallant Efforts, of the Honble Rear Admiral Cockrane, Rear Admiral Louis, the Captains, Officers Seamen, and Royal Marines under my Command to suppose that without the aiding Hand of Providence such result could have been effected, and with a Loss so comparatively small, and though I shall ever sympathize with the connections of those that fell; the reflection on the cause will I hope afford much consolation – To speak individually to the conduct of any one would be injurious to all, for all were equally animated with the same zealous ardour, in support of their King, and Country: yet possessed of those feelings, I cannot be Silent, without Injustice to the firm, and manly support for which I was indebted to Captain Keats; and the effect that the system of Discipline, and good Order in which I found the Superb must ever Produce; and the Preeminence of the British Seaman could never be more highly conspicuous than in this Contest. After the Action (the Water being to deep to Anchor in the Bay of Sainte Domingue) it was requisite to bring to with the Prizes, to repair Damages put the Ships in a manageable State, and shift the Prisoners, which took me till this Afternoon when I detached the Honble Captain Stopford in the Spencer with the Donegall, and Atlas, which latter had lost her bowsprit with the Prizes to Jamaica; and being anxious with Rear Admiral Cockrane that He should return to His Command, where His Services must be wanted, a Jury Main Mast is fitting to the Northumberland to enable Her to get to Windward, when I shall order the Agamemnon which is staying by her to accompany the Rear Admiral to His Station and am now proceeding with the Canopus R: A: Louis, Acasta, and Magicienne, off Sainte Domingue to make certain of L’Imperial being completely Wrecked. After which I shall repair to Jamaica, and with the utmost Dispatch move towards my Station off Cadiz or as circumstances of Service may point out but certainly sending Rear Admiral Louis and the Ships that require Docking to England – Having recited the Transactions of this glorious combat, which will fairly add another Sprig of Laurel to our naval History! I am Sir!
