CHAUSSEY, or Choyé, is a group of islets lying off the coast of
Normandy, about twenty miles from Jersey, and nine from Granville.
They stretch north, east, and west, and cover a space of nearly twelve
miles. The principal of them is called the Maitre Isle, and is the
resort of a few French fishermen during the summer, but being only a
rock, and totally devoid of vegetation, its inhabitants are entirely
dependent on the neighbouring shores for all the necessaries of life,
excepting what their nets may produce. At the time of which we are
writing, the winter of 1803, this group of islets was in the hands of
the English, and was the scene of the wreck of the Grappler in that
year.
On the 23rd December, 1803, Lieutenant Abel Thomas, commanding His
Majesty's brig Grappler, then stationed at Guernsey, was directed by
Admiral Sir James Saumarez to proceed, with some French prisoners on
board, to Granville, in Normandy, and there to set them at liberty;
after which he was to touch at the islands of Chaussey, on his return
to Guernsey, in order to supply twelve French prisoners who were on
the Maitre Isle with fifteen days' provisions.
On the evening of the 23rd,--the same day that they sailed from
Guernsey,--the Grappler anchored off the north side of Chaussey, but a
heavy gale of wind which came on during the night rendered her
position so dangerous, that Lieutenant Thomas thought it advisable
either to return to Guernsey, or to run into one of the small harbours
formed among the rocks, which afford a safe shelter during the
severest gales, but are by no means easy of access, and are available
only to small vessels, and with the aid of an experienced pilot. Into
one of these natural harbours, Lieutenant Thomas, by the advice of his
pilot, determined to run the Grappler, and succeeded in anchoring her
in safety under the Maitre Isle. There they remained four or five
days, keeping a sharp look-out by day from the top of one of the
adjacent rocks, to guard against a surprise from the enemy's cruizers;
while for their better security at night, a guard-boat was stationed
at the entrance of the harbour. As the weather still continued too
boisterous to trust the brig with safety on a lee shore, her commander
determined to return to Guernsey, and offered his prisoners the
alternative of returning with him, or remaining with their countrymen
at Chaussey. As they all chose to remain, they were promptly landed,
and furnished with a boat and a week's supply of provisions, in
addition to what had already been left for the use of the inhabitants.
To enable his prisoners to land with greater security at Granville,
Lieutenant Thomas read aloud and sealed in their presence a letter,
addressed by Sir James Saumarez to the Commissary of Marine at that
port, containing an explanation of his reasons for liberating these
Frenchmen,--with his hopes that the French authorities would act in
the same manner towards any English who might fall into their
hands,--and entrusted it to one of them, with another letter from
himself, in which he stated how he had been prevented from conveying
them to Granville in his own vessel, and begged that any English
prisoners who chanced to be at that place might be sent to one of the
Channel Islands. The sequel will show in what manner this courtesy and
generosity were repaid by the French government.
At six, A.M., December 30th, all was in readiness for the Grappler to
leave the harbour. The anchor was up, and the vessel was riding
between wind and tide, with a hawser made fast to the rocks.
Unfortunately, the hawser either broke or slipped while they were in
the act of close reefing the topsails, and the brig cast to port. She
drifted about three or four hundred yards, and struck at last on a
half-tide rock, from which all their efforts were unavailing to haul
her off again, and at low water she bilged, and parted in two abreast
the chess tree.
Lieutenant Thomas, foreseeing the inevitable loss of the brig, had
ordered the master to proceed with the cutter and eight men to Jersey
for assistance; and he was directing the crew in their endeavours to
mount some guns upon a small rocky islet, to which they had already
carried the greater part of the provisions, small arms, and
ammunition, when the look-out man, who had been stationed on the
summit of the rock, reported that several small craft were steering
towards them. Upon receiving this intelligence, the commander and
pilot repaired to the high ground, and after carefully examining the
appearance of the vessels, agreed that they were merely fishing boats,
and considered that it would be imprudent to let them depart before
assistance had been procured from Jersey, as, in case there were no
ships of war at that place, these boats might possibly be hired to
carry the men and stores to Jersey. With this object in view,
Lieutenant Thomas pushed off in the jolly boat, accompanied by the
French fishermen's small boat which had come to the assistance of the
Grappler's crew.
In order to approach the supposed fishing boats, it was necessary to
double a point of the Maitre Isle; and this they had no sooner
accomplished, than they came in sight of three chasse marées, which
had been concealed behind the point. On the sudden appearance of the
English boat, the men on board the chasse marées were thrown into some
confusion, and Lieutenant Thomas determined to attack them before
they had time to recover themselves. On communicating his intention to
his boat's crew, they dashed forwards at once with a loud cheer, but
had scarcely pulled a dozen strokes when a body of soldiers, who had
been concealed behind some rocks on the Maitre Isle, poured in so
severe a fire that Lieutenant Thomas, seeing the superiority of the
French in point of numbers, thought it prudent to retreat. No sooner
had he given orders to do so, than a shot struck him on the lower jaw
and passed through his tongue, rendering him incapable of further
exertion. A second volley of musketry riddled the boat, so that she
began to fill with water, and finding that they had no alternative but
to surrender, the English made a signal to that effect, which was
either unobserved, or purposely disregarded, as the firing did not
cease till the arrival of the officer in command of the French, when
the little party were all made prisoners. Upon Lieutenant Thomas being
carried on shore, he found that he had fallen into the hands of a
Capitaine de Frigate, who commanded a detachment of fourteen boats and
a hundred and sixty men. As soon as the captives were landed, a party
of the French troops proceeded to the wreck of the Grappler, and made
prisoners of the men who were on the adjacent rock, and after seizing
all the stores and provisions, they blew up the remains of the brig.
When Lieutenant Thomas had partially recovered from the faintness and
insensibility caused by his wound, he handed his pocket-book to the
French officer. After reading the orders of Sir James Saumarez, which
it contained, this officer expressed much regret that Lieutenant
Thomas had been so seriously wounded, and alleged that the troops had
fired without his orders. Such was the apology of the French
commander, but it certainly does not tell well for the discipline of
his troops, nor is it easy to understand how so large a body of men
could be left without a commissioned officer even for a moment, much
less how they could have kept up a continued fire, which this seems to
have been. Perhaps, however, it is not fair to comment too severely
upon the conduct of the French on this occasion; the signal of
surrender might not have been observed, and as the English had
commenced the attack, the enemy may naturally have supposed that a
larger force was shortly advancing to the support of their comrades.
We should also bear in mind that the war had just broke out anew,
after a short cessation of hostilities, and that national animosity
was at its height.
Thus far we may attempt to palliate the conduct of the French, but it
might naturally be supposed that upon learning from his papers the
errand of mercy upon which Lieutenant Thomas had been engaged, the
French officer would have done all in his power to alleviate the
sufferings of his prisoner, and have shown him every mark of courtesy
and attention. However this may be, no sooner were all arrangements
completed, than the prisoners were marched to the boats, and
Lieutenant Thomas was handed over to the care of two grenadiers, with
directions that every attention should be paid to him; but the
officer's back was scarcely turned, when these grenadiers, assisted by
some of their comrades, stripped poor Thomas of all his clothes, broke
open his trunk, which had been restored to him, and appropriated to
themselves every article of value that he possessed. Having secured
their plunder, they dragged their unfortunate victim to the beach,
regardless of his wound and sufferings, and after gagging him with a
pocket-handkerchief, threw him on the deck of one of their boats.
The wind blowing fresh on their passage to Granville, which was three
leagues from Chaussey, the greater part of the soldiers were
prostrated by sea-sickness, whilst the seamen were in such a state of
intoxication, that had Lieutenant Thomas been able to rise, or to
communicate with his fellow-prisoners, he might easily have
overpowered the French, and gained possession of the vessel. If such
an idea flashed across his mind, it was but for a moment: he could
neither speak nor move, and lay for many hours exposed to the
insulting jeers of the French, and the inclemency of the weather. It
was late at night when they landed at Granville, but the naval and
military staff waited upon Mr. Thomas the next morning, and told him
that it was the intention of the authorities to send him back to
England, in consideration of his kindness to the French prisoners. The
expectation raised in the English officer's breast by these promises
were, to the disgrace of the French government of that day, never
realized. He was thrown into prison, and treated with the utmost
severity; in vain did he protest against this injustice--in vain did
he represent that he was engaged on no hostile expedition at the time
of his capture, which, moreover, was not through the fortune of war,
but through the violence of the elements. He was kept in close
confinement at Verdun for ten years, and when he was at last released,
liberty was scarcely a boon to him. The damp of his prison, and the
sufferings attendant on his wound, had impaired his eyesight, and
otherwise so injured his constitution, that he was no longer fit for
active service. He was, however, promoted to the rank of commander
immediately on his return to England: this rank he still holds, but
the best years of his life had been spent in captivity, and his hopes
of promotion were not realized till too late for the enjoyment of its
honours, or for the service of his country.