BLOCKADING BOULOGNE
Francis Austen’s first appointment on his promotion to post rank was
to the _Neptune_, as Flag-Captain to Admiral James Gambier. It was
not usual for an Admiral to choose as his Flag-Captain one who had so
lately gained the step in rank. It is clear from the letters of Francis
Austen at this time that he, in common with many officers in the Navy,
was bent on improvements in the food and general comforts of the crews.
Francis Austen’s capacity for detail would here stand him in good
stead. There is one letter of his concerning the best way of preserving
cheeses, which is a good example of his interest in the small things
of his profession. He had, on the advice of Admiral Gambier, made the
experiment of coating some cheeses with whitewash in order to keep them
in good condition in hot weather, and had found it very successful.
He thereupon wrote to the Admiralty Commissioners recommending that
all cheeses should be so treated before being shipped, in order that
the men might have “more wholesome and nutritive food,” and also
“that a material ultimate saving to the public may be effected at an
inconsiderable first cost.”
We have not far to look for a parallel to this love of detail in the
works of Jane Austen. Admirers and detractors are agreed in saying that
she thought nothing too unimportant to be of interest, and in allowing
the justice of her own description of her work--“the little bit (two
inches wide) of ivory on which I work with so fine a brush, as produces
little effect after much labour.” There is no doubt that naval officers
must often have felt in their dealings with the Admiralty that they
produced “little effect after much labour.”
A curious point of etiquette in connection with these letters is that
the Commissioners invariably signed themselves “Your affectionate
friends,” followed by the names of those concerned in the business.
At the peace of Amiens, Francis Austen, among many other officers,
went on half-pay; but when war broke out again in 1803, we find him at
Ramsgate, employed in raising a body of “Sea Fencibles.” This service
was instituted chiefly on the advice of Captain Popham, who had tried
something of the same kind in Flanders in 1793.
The object, of course, was to protect the coast from invasion. The
corps was composed of fishermen, commanded in each district by an
officer in the Navy, whose duty it was to quarter the men on the beach,
exercise them, and to have the beaches watched whenever the weather was
favourable for the enemy to land. The men were exercised once a week,
and were paid at the rate of a shilling a day, with a food allowance
when on service.
Captain Austen’s report on the coast of the district lying between
the North Foreland and Sandown is a document of considerable detail,
dealing with the possible landing-places for a hostile army. He comes
to the conclusion that in moderate weather a landing might be effected
on many parts of this coast, particularly in Pegwell Bay, where “the
enemy would have no heights to gain,” and, further, “that any time of
tide would be equally favourable for the debarkation of troops on this
shore.” But “in blowing weather, open flat boats filled with troops
would doubtless many of them be lost in the surf, while larger vessels
could not, from the flatness of the coast, approach sufficiently near.”
Of course, all is subject to “the enemy’s evading our cruisers, and
getting past the ships in the Downs.”
This time at Ramsgate was of importance to Francis, for it was here
that he met, and became engaged to, Mary Gibson, who was his wife for
seventeen years. This engagement, though “Mrs. F. A.” became one of
the best loved of the sisters-in-law, must at the outset have been a
slight shock to Jane and Cassandra, who for long had been cherishing a
hope that Frank would marry their beloved friend Martha Lloyd. A few
extracts taken from the letters will show their affection and their
hopes.
“I love Martha better than ever, and I mean to go and see her, if I
can, when she gets home.... I shall be very glad to see you at home
again, and then--if we can get Martha--who will be so happy as we? ...
I am quite pleased with Martha and Mrs. Lefroy for wanting the pattern
of our caps, but I am not so well pleased with your giving it to them.
Some wish, some prevailing wish, is necessary to the animation of
everybody’s mind, and in gratifying this you leave them to form some
other which will probably not be half so innocent. I shall not forget
to write to Frank.”
The connection of ideas seems very clear. Perhaps it may have been some
memory of these old times, and the wishes of his sister who had passed
away, that induced Francis to make Martha his second wife in 1828.
That their religious life was the mainspring of all their actions is
sufficiently clear throughout the whole lives of the two brothers.
During this time at Ramsgate, Francis was noticed as “_the_ officer who
knelt in church,” and up to the day of his death there is one entry
never absent from the diary of Charles Austen--“Read the Lessons of the
Day.”
In May 1804 Captain Francis Austen was appointed to the _Leopard_, the
flagship of Rear-Admiral Louis, who held a command in the squadron
blockading Napoleon’s Boulogne flotilla. This flotilla, begun in
1802, had by 1804 assumed very large proportions. With the object of
stirring up the descendants of the Norman conquerors to a new invasion
of England, Napoleon, always dramatic in his effects, made a progress
through the maritime provinces attended by the Bayeux Tapestry, the
display of which was expected to arouse much martial ardour. It was
assumed that his great army of veteran soldiers, encamped above the
cliffs of Boulogne, was only waiting for favourable weather to embark
on board the two thousand flat-bottomed boats. His review of this fleet
in August 1804 was, however, so seriously disturbed by one or two of
the British men-of-war that the new Emperor was obliged to recognise
the impossibility of crossing the Channel unless he had the command of
(at least) the narrow seas.
All the naval history that follows, up to the day of Trafalgar, was the
outcome of his attempt to obtain this superiority for his “Grand Army
of England.” The failure of Villeneuve, on his return from the West
Indies, to reach the appointed rendezvous with Ganteaume off Brest,
broke up Napoleon’s combination; the army marched to Austerlitz and
Vienna, the flotilla was left to decay, and the site of the two years’
camp is commemorated only by the Column of Napoleon himself.
The work of watching Boulogne and the neighbouring ports was, in common
with all other blockades, as a contemporary writer says, “a trial
to the temper, spirits and health of officers and men.” There was a
strong feeling in England against this system, which seems to have been
popular with naval authorities. This opinion is voiced in the following
cutting from the _Naval Chronicle_ of that date:
“Were it indeed possible to keep so strict a watch on the
hostile shores that every effort of the enemy to escape
from the ports would be unavailing, that the fortuitous
circumstances of calms, fogs, gales, the obscurity of the
night, &c., would not in any degree advance his purposes,
then would the eventual mischief inseparable from a blockade,
by which our marine is threatened, find a compensation in
our immediate security. But until this can be effected with
a certainty of success, the national interests ought not to
be compromised, and our future offensive and defensive means
unnecessarily abridged.” This extract is perhaps of greater
interest as an example of the journalese of the date, than for
any unusual depth in the ideas which it expresses, which merely
amount to the fact that it was considered that the “game was
not worth the candle.”
Against this we may set another view of the blockades as expressed by
Dr. Fitchett:
“It was one of the compensations of these great blockades that
they raised the standard of seamanship and endurance throughout
the British fleets to the highest possible level. The lonely
watches, the sustained vigilance, the remoteness from all
companionship, the long wrestle with the forces of the sea, the
constant watching for battle, which for English seamen marked
those blockades, profoundly affected the character of English
seamanship. When, indeed, has the world seen such seamen as
those of the years preceding Trafalgar? Hardy, resolute,
careless alike of tempest or of battle; of frames as enduring
as the oaken decks they trod, and courage as iron as the guns
they worked; and as familiar with sea-life and all its chances
as though they had been web-footed.
“If the great blockades hardened the seamanship of the British
fleets, fighting for long months with the tempests of the
open sea, they fatally enervated the seamanship of the French
navy. The seaman’s art under the tri-colour decayed in the
long inaction of blockaded ports. The seaman’s spirit drooped.
The French navy suffered curious and fatal loss, not only of
nautical skill but of fighting impulse.”
Nelson’s comment is opportune: “These gentlemen are not accustomed to a
Gulf of Lyons gale, which we have buffeted for twenty-one months, and
not carried away a spar.”
Captain Austen’s idea of the best way to minimise the evils of a
blockade was to give the men as much work to do as possible in the
care of the ship. At one time this took the form of having the boats
re-painted. Over this question we have the following characteristic
letter:
“_Leopard_, DUNGENESS, _June 23, 1804_.
“SIR,--I have received your letter of 21st instant, relative
to the paint and oil I have demanded for the preservation of
the boats of his Majesty’s ship under my command, and in reply
to it beg leave to inform you that I did not make that demand
without having previously stated to the Navy Board by letter
the situation of the boats of the _Leopard_, and the necessity
of an extra proportion of paint being supplied for them;
and as by their answer they appeared to have approved of my
application, inasmuch as they told me orders had been sent to
Deal to issue it, I concluded nothing more remained for me than
to demand the necessary quantity. Presuming, however, from the
tenor of your letter, that you have received no direction on
the subject, I shall write to renew my application.
“With respect to ‘no colour than white being allowed for
boats,’ I would only ask you, as knowing something of the
King’s naval service, how long one of our six-oared cutters
would look decent painted all white, and whether a darker
colour would not be both more durable and creditable? If,
however, such be the regulation of the Board (from which I know
there is no appeal), I have only to request, when you receive
any order to supply the paint, that you will give an additional
quantity of white in lieu of black.
“The paint to which you allude in your letter as having been
supplied on the 9th and 12th June, was sea store, and ought to
have been furnished to the ship months ago. Nor is it more than
sufficient to make her decent and fit for an Admiral to hoist
his flag in.
“I am, Sir, your humble servant,
“FRANCIS WM. AUSTEN.
“Geo. Lawrence, Esq., &c., &c.”
Shingle ballast was one of the grievances of naval officers at that
time. It was, naturally, much cheaper than iron ballast, but it had
a particularly awkward habit of shifting, and the larger stones
occasionally drilled holes in the ship. It was also very bulky and
difficult to stow.
Francis Austen was neither slow to enter a protest, nor easily put off
his point. He writes:
“Though the ship is deep enough in the water, she can only acquire the
proper stability by having the weight placed lower. By a letter which
I have this day received from the Navy Board in answer to my request,
I am informed that the _Leopard_ cannot be supplied with more than
the established proportion of iron ballast, but if I wish for more
directions shall be given for supplying shingle. I have, therefore, to
request you will be pleased to move their Lordships to give directions
for the _Leopard’s_ being supplied with the additional _iron ballast_
as requested in my letter to the Navy Board.”
About this time Francis Austen began to keep a private note-book, which
is still in existence, in which he recorded (not always seriously)
points of interest in the places he visited. He seems to have kept this
note-book while he was in the _Leopard_, then laid it aside for three
years, and begun it again when he was Captain of the _St. Albans_. His
notes on the “Anchorage Off Boulogne” contain some interesting details.
“Directions for Sailing into the Roads.--There is no danger whatever
in approaching the anchorage usually occupied by the English squadron
employed at the blockade of Boulogne, as the water is deep and the
soundings are regular. There is a bank called the ‘Basse du Basse,’
which lies about a mile off Ambleteuse, extending in a direction nearly
parallel to the shore, but rather diverging outwards to the westward
of Boulogne Pier; on it there are in some places as little as three
fathoms at low water, and within it considerably deeper water.” He goes
on with some special advice for the various types of vessel.
“The situation usually occupied by the British squadron off Boulogne
is, with the town bearing from S.S.E. to E.S.E., distant about four
miles, in from 16 to 20 fathoms water; coarse sandy bottom, with large
shells and stones, which would probably injure the cables materially,
but that from the depth of water and strength of the tides, little of
them can ever drag on the bottom.
“From Cape Grisnez to Portel the coast is little else than one
continual battery, and I conceive it to be absolutely impregnable
to any attack from the sea. Of its defences towards the land I
know nothing. I had no means of knowing anything relative to the
landing-places.
“Trade.--On this point I had no means of acquiring any certain
information, but believe, previous to the war with England, it was a
place of great resort for our smuggling vessels from the Kentish coast.
As it is a tide harbour, and completely dry at low water, no vessels
of very large draught of water can go in, nor anything larger than a
boat until nearly half flood.”
A hundred years have wrought great changes. The Folkestone and Boulogne
steamers have some larger dimensions than the _Leopard_ herself, and
they go in and out at all states of the tide.
One heading is always devoted to “Inhabitants,” and under this Francis
Austen remarks: “The inhabitants are French, subjects to Napoleon
the First, lately exalted to the Imperial dignity by the unanimous
suffrages of himself and his creatures.” The sarcastic tone of the
reference to Napoleon was characteristic of the general tenor of
publications in England at the time. “The Tom Thumb egotism and
impudent bulletins of the Corsican usurper continue almost without a
parallel in history,” says the _Naval Chronicle_. The language in which
this protest is couched is hardly that we should use now in speaking of
Napoleon.
Charles, when the war broke out again, was reappointed to the
_Endymion_, and served on her with some distinction until October 1804,
when he was given the command of the _Indian_ sloop.
Among other prizes taken under Captain Paget, who finally recommended
Lieutenant Charles Austen for command, the _Endymion_ had captured the
French corvette _Bacchante_ on the return voyage from St. Domingo to
Brest; she had left France about three months before, meeting with the
_Endymion_ on June 25, 1803. This prize was a remarkably fine corvette,
and was added to the British Navy.
Somewhere about this time Charles had come across Lord Leven and his
family, and was evidently useful to them in some way, besides being
doubtless extremely agreeable. When Lord and Lady Leven were in Bath,
they made some effort to become acquainted with the family of Mr.
Austen, and Jane writes to Cassandra describing a visit paid one
morning by her mother and herself:
“When I tell you I have been visiting a countess this morning,
you will immediately (with great justice, but no truth) guess
it to be Lady Roden. No; it is Lady Leven, the mother of Lord
Balgonie. On receiving a message from Lord and Lady Leven
through the Mackys, declaring their intention of waiting on us,
we thought it right to go to them. I hope we have not done too
much, but friends and admirers of Charles must be attended to.
They seem very reasonable, good sort of people, very civil,
and full of his praise. We were shown at first into an empty
drawing-room, and presently in came his lordship (not knowing
who we were) to apologise for the servant’s mistake, and to
say himself--what was untrue--that Lady Leven was not within.
He is a tall, gentleman-like looking man, with spectacles, and
rather deaf. After sitting with him ten minutes we walked away,
but Lady Leven coming out of the dining-parlour as we passed
the door, we were obliged to attend her back to it, and pay our
visit over again. She is a stout woman, with a very handsome
face. By this means we had the pleasure of hearing Charles’s
praises twice over. They think themselves excessively obliged
to him, and estimate him so highly as to wish Lord Balgonie,
when he is quite recovered, to go out to him.
“There is a pretty little Lady Marianne of the party to be
shaken hands with, and asked if she remembered Mr. Austen.... I
shall write to Charles by the next packet, unless you tell me
in the meantime of your intending to do it.
“Believe me, if you chuse,
“Your affectionate sister.”
In January 1805, just before Francis Austen was moved from the
_Leopard_ to the _Canopus_, and a few months after Charles had taken
command of the _Indian_, a family sorrow came upon them. Jane wrote
twice to tell the news to Frank, as the first letter was directed to
Dungeness, in the belief that the _Leopard_ was there, instead of at
Portsmouth.
[Illustration: MRS. AUSTEN]
“GREEN PARK BUILDINGS,
“Monday, _January 21, 1805_.
“MY DEAREST FRANK,--I have melancholy news to relate, and
sincerely feel for your feelings under the shock of it. I wish
I could better prepare you for it, but, having said so much,
your mind will already foretell the sort of event which I
have to communicate. Our dear father has closed his virtuous
and happy life in a death almost as free from suffering as
his children could have wished. He was taken ill on Saturday
morning, exactly in the same way as heretofore--an oppression
in the head, with fever, violent tremulousness, and the
greatest degree of feebleness. The same remedy of cupping,
which had before been so successful, was immediately applied
to, but without such happy effects. The attack was more
violent, and at first he seemed scarcely at all relieved by
the operation. Towards the evening, however, he got better,
had a tolerable night, and yesterday morning was so greatly
amended as to get up, join us at breakfast as usual, and walk
about without the help of a stick; and every symptom was then
so favourable that, when Bowen saw him at one, he felt sure of
his doing perfectly well. But as the day advanced all these
comfortable appearances gradually changed, the fever grew
stronger than ever, and when Bowen saw him at ten at night he
pronounced his situation to be most alarming. At nine this
morning he came again, and by his desire a physician was called
in, Dr. Gibbs. But it was then absolutely a lost case. Dr.
Gibbs said that nothing but a miracle could save him, and about
twenty minutes after ten he drew his last gasp. Heavy as is the
blow, we can already feel that a thousand comforts remain to us
to soften it. Next to that of the consciousness of his worth
and constant preparation for another world, is the remembrance
of his having suffered, comparatively speaking, nothing. Being
quite insensible of his own state, he was spared all pain of
separation, and he went off almost in his sleep. My mother
bears the shock as well as possible; she was quite prepared
for it, and feels all the blessing of his being spared a long
illness. My uncle and aunt have been with us, and show us every
imaginable kindness. And to-morrow we shall, I dare say, have
the comfort of James’ presence, as an express has been sent
for him. We write also, of course, to Godmersham and Brompton.
Adieu, my dearest Frank. The loss of such a parent must be
felt, or we should be brutes. I wish I could give you a better
preparation, but it has been impossible.
“Yours ever affectionately,
“J. A.”
As this letter was wrongly addressed, it was necessary for Jane to
write a second one to send direct to Portsmouth.
“GREEN PARK BUILDINGS,
“Tuesday Evening, _January 22, 1805_.
“MY DEAREST FRANK,--I wrote to you yesterday, but your letter
to Cassandra this morning, by which we learn the probability of
your being by this time at Portsmouth, obliges me to write to
you again, having, unfortunately, a communication as necessary
as painful to make to you. Your affectionate heart will be
greatly wounded, and I wish the shock could have been lessened
by a better preparation; but the event has been sudden, and
so must be the information of it. We have lost an excellent
father. An illness of only eight and forty hours carried him
off yesterday morning between ten and eleven. He was seized
on Saturday with a return of the feverish complaint which he
had been subject to for the last three years--evidently a more
violent attack from the first, as the applications which had
before produced almost immediate relief seemed for some time
to afford him scarcely any. On Sunday, however, he was much
better--so much so as to make Bowen quite easy, and give us
every hope of his being well again in a few days. But these
hopes gradually gave way as the day advanced, and when Bowen
saw him at ten that night he was greatly alarmed. A physician
was called in yesterday morning, but he was at that time past
all possibility of cure; and Dr. Gibbs and Mr. Bowen had
scarcely left his room before he sunk into a sleep from which
he never awoke. Everything, I trust and believe, was done
for him that was possible. It has been very sudden. Within
twenty-four hours of his death he was walking about with only
the help of a stick--was even reading. We had, however, some
hours of preparation, and when we understood his recovery to
be hopeless, most fervently did we pray for the speedy release
which ensued. To have seen him languishing long, struggling
for hours, would have been dreadful--and, thank God, we were
all spared from it. Except the restlessness and confusion of
high fever, he did not suffer, and he was mercifully spared
from knowing that he was about to quit objects so beloved and
so fondly cherished as his wife and children ever were. His
tenderness as a father, who can do justice to? My mother is
tolerably well; she bears up with the greatest fortitude, but I
fear her health must suffer under such a shock. An express was
sent for James, and he arrived here this morning before eight
o’clock. The funeral is to be on Saturday at Walcot Church. The
serenity of the corpse is most delightful. It preserves the
sweet, benevolent smile which always distinguished him. They
kindly press my mother to remove to Steventon as soon as it is
all over, but I do not believe she will leave Bath at present.
We must have this house for three months longer, and here we
shall probably stay till the end of that time. We all unite in
love, and I am
“Affectionately yours,
“J. A.”
This was followed in a few days by another.
“GREEN PARK BUILDINGS,
“Tuesday, _January 29, 1805_.
“MY DEAREST FRANK,--My mother has found among our dear father’s
little personal property a small astronomical instrument, which
she hopes you will accept for his sake. It is, I believe, a
compass and sun-dial, and is in a black shagreen case. Would
you have it sent to you now--and with what direction? There is
also a pair of scissors for you. We hope these are articles
that may be useful to you, but we are sure they will be
valuable. I have not time for more.
“Yours very affectionately,
“J. A.”