The foregoing sketch of the history of the Boscawens seemed desirable
in order to give the reader some idea of the sources from which
Pitt's 'great Admiral' sprang, and to serve as a background to the
family picture in which his figure is the most prominent. We have
seen that the Boscawens were an ancient, wealthy, and not altogether
undistinguished group of Cornishmen; and have noted that their seat
had for ages been on the banks of that sylvan river which empties its
waters into the once renowned Falmouth Haven. Here Edward Boscawen,
third son of the first Viscount, was born on the 19th August, 1711;
and, notwithstanding the absence (so far as I am aware) of any
published details concerning the childhood and youth of the illustrious
sailor, except the fact of his quaint humour in imitating the gestures
of an old servant till he himself contracted a constant habit of
carrying his head slightly on one side[87]--there can be little doubt,
I think, that a good deal of the young sea-dog's leisure was spent on,
or in, the Fal, which washes the shores of his ancestral woods and
glades. We know, indeed, that he entered the navy whilst _very young_
(when only twelve years old, so Campbell says), and this suggests
the idea that the future 'old Dreadnought' may have found the limits
of the sequestered Tregothnan estate and the quiet life led there
incompatible with the high spirits which a lad of his quality must
undoubtedly have possessed. In other words, we can but believe that
he was a born sailor, and that he merited, from the first, another
of his sobriquets,--derived from the heroic contempt of danger which
he manifested throughout his life--'the brave Boscawen.' He no doubt
expected that, in accordance with the practice of a century and a
half ago, through family interest he would very shortly obtain his
lieutenancy, when an order was suddenly and unexpectedly issued,
subjecting all midshipmen to at least six years' service. 'To this
order,' Boscawen used to say, 'I owe all my knowledge of seamanship.'
At any rate, the new regulation did not change his views, nor prevent
many other Cornish youngsters from entering the navy and serving
under an officer who was as fond of having them about him as they
were of sailing under his command. Amongst such may be named the Hon.
George Edgcumbe,[88] afterwards Admiral of the White, who commanded
the _Lancaster_ of seventy guns at the famous siege of Louisbourg (of
which we shall hear more by-and-by); and Admiral Sir Richard Spry, who
commanded a similar ship, the _Oxford_, on that occasion.
And here it should be remembered how different in many respects is the
position of the modern British sailor--true Briton as he still is,
and is proving himself to be at Alexandria even whilst I write these
lines--from the traditional sailor of Boscawen's days. Now, most of
the sailors' work in our steam iron-clads is done on deck or below;
but, at the period of which we are about to consider some episodes,
the larger proportion--certainly the more difficult--was performed
aloft. In weather of all sorts 'there were dead-eyes to turn in, there
were chafing gear to look after, reef-points to knot, masts to stay,
studding-sail gear to reeve, and the like.' Then the wild excitement
of going aloft to shorten sail in stormy weather! The old songs at
the reef-tackles, the flapping of the canvas, the springing into the
shrouds, and the helter-skelter race for the weather-earing--unless,
indeed, the iron-hard pressure of the gale pinned you against the
shrouds as if you had been a spread-eagle. In work of this sort the
English tars were always pre-eminent, and one can easily believe that
the Admiral accordingly had a thoroughly hearty contempt for the
unsailor-like character of the French crews. Of one he said he 'never
saw so bad a crew on salt water before; there were not twenty men on
board who could go aloft.'[89] Those, too, were days not only of rough
work, but also of rough-and-ready fighting; and Boscawen's motto, like
that of Hawke,[90] his illustrious contemporary and rival, was always,
'Strike.' One night Boscawen's lieutenant came to him, and awoke him,
saying that they had fallen in with three ships of the enemy. 'What
shall we do?' 'Why, fight 'em, to be sure!' said Boscawen; and, dashing
up on deck in his night shirt, he soon compelled the enemy to sheer
off. It was from this action that he is said to have acquired the name
of Old Dreadnought. On another occasion he took off his wig, and with
it stopped a leak in his boat, which was rapidly sinking.
As we have seen, he was the third son of the first Viscount Falmouth,
and was called Edward after his grandfather. His grandmother, Jael,
was of the fine old Cornish stock of Godolphin, and his mother was
Charlotte Godfrey, a niece of the great Duke of Marlborough, not a
natural daughter (as Hals says) of James II., by Arabella Churchill,
but her eldest daughter, by Colonel Charles Godfrey, Master of the
Jewel Office, whom she had subsequently married;--so that he seems
to have had royal as well as good fighting blood in his veins, some
of which he was destined to shed for his country. I do not know at
what date he received his lieutenant's commission; probably it was on
being appointed to the _Hector_ in 1732; but on the 12th March, 1737,
when not quite twenty-six years old, he was appointed captain of the
_Leopard_, a fourth-rate of fifty guns. On the outbreak of the war
with Spain, he was transferred to the _Shoreham_ of twenty guns, and
was sent to cruise off Jamaica. Unfortunately, when Admiral Vernon
determined, in November, 1740, on attacking Porto Bello (a place
which Columbus had discovered and named in 1562, and which had once
before succumbed to a British Admiral, Sir Francis Drake, in 1596),
the _Shoreham_ was found to be unfit for action; but Boscawen would
not be deprived of this chance of seeing some active service, so he
sailed as a volunteer, and so far distinguished himself at the easy
capture of the place--for the garrison was on a peace footing, and the
British lost only seven men--that he was entrusted with the duty of
superintending the demolition of the fortifications.
Rejoining the _Shoreham_, which had now been thoroughly overhauled, we
next hear of him, in March, 1740-41, at the siege of Carthagena, the
chief port in New Granada, again under Admiral Vernon, who is described
as a man of fair abilities, but of harsh overbearing temper;--one of
those naval heroes of whom Byron sourly says in his 'Don Juan:'
'They filled their sign-posts then like Wellesley now.'
Here again he gathered laurels, and attracted considerable notice by
what Campbell describes as his 'quick-sighted judgment and intrepid
valour,' commanding a detachment of 300 sailors and 200 soldiers, and
storming a fascine battery on Boca Chica, which had much galled General
Wentworth, and held our forces in check.
Campbell thus describes Boscawen's part in the affair, which reminds us
of the recent gallant rush on Tel-el-Kebir:[91]
'Pushing forward with a strength equal to their animation, they soon
climbed the entrenchments, and entering the embrasures in the face of
a continued fire, and on the very muzzles of the guns, they drove the
enemy from the works with considerable slaughter; and after spiking
the cannon and burning the platforms, together with the gun-carriages,
guard-house, and magazine, Boscawen led off his detachment in order,
and returned to the fleet with six wounded prisoners. The Spaniards,
fully sensible of the support which this battery had afforded them,
were indefatigable in their endeavours to repair it; and having in
a few days so far succeeded as to be able to bring six guns to bear
upon the English fleet, Boscawen was again ordered to reduce it, but
in a manner which exposed him less to personal danger than in the
service in which it was before deemed expedient to employ him. He
was directed to proceed with his own ship, the _Shoreham_, together
with the _Princess Amelia_ and the _Lichfield_, as close inshore as
the depth of the water would admit them (a dangerous enterprise in
consequence of the difficulties of the navigation here), to anchor
abreast of the battery, and to bring the ships' broadsides to bear
upon it; whilst, on the other hand, a detachment of seamen, under the
command of Captains Watson, Cotes, and Dennis, were at the same time
to storm it. These measures, taken with so much skill and prudence,
would in all probability have ensured the success of the attack;
but the Spaniards, intimidated by the formidable appearance of the
assailants, _abandoned the battery without firing a shot_.'
But the place was too strongly fortified; and the siege of Carthagena
was soon after raised (a circumstance which, by the way, tended to
hasten the fall of Walpole). Yet before Boscawen left he was again
employed, as at Porto Bello, to rase the different forts which the
English had taken on the neighbouring coast; and, whilst engaged on
this service, was appointed to the _Prince Frederick_, of 70 guns, on
the death of Lord Aubrey Beauclerk, who gallantly fell at Boca Chica.
Clinton observes that the siege lasted from January to 24th April,
1741; and that as the surf prevented a bombardment from the sea, it was
determined to make a lodging on Boca Chica, in order to reduce the fort
there. The long-standing jealousy between the navy and the army was,
he thinks, the cause of the failure of the siege. However that may be,
three thousand men were lost by assaults and sickness; and the fleet
returned to Jamaica.
On the 14th May, 1742, Boscawen reached home, or rather St. Helen's,
Isle of Wight, bringing advices of Admiral Vernon's having sailed on
a fresh expedition, which unfortunately proved abortive. But this
year was memorable in his life for other than warlike exploits; for
its close witnessed his marriage with the graceful, sprightly, and
accomplished Frances Evelyn Glanville, of St. Clere, Kent; a lady
sufficiently distinguished in her day to claim, as a Cornishman's wife,
the notice which I have ventured to append to this sketch of the
Admiral, her husband,--whose epitaph, glowing with eloquence, she was
destined to write.
In the year that he married he was elected Member for Truro. And
here it may be observed that the gallant naval officer was always
extremely popular in his native county. One account states that he
was 'positively adored' by the people, and that they insisted on
sending him to Parliament as their representative, notwithstanding
his reluctance to serve, on account of one member of his family being
already there--namely, his father--in the House of Peers. Again, in
1747 he was elected for both Saltash (another old Cornish borough) and
Truro; but he decided on maintaining his political connexion with the
latter.
The next few months of his life would seem to have passed without any
events of public interest occurring; but, early in 1744, war, arising
out of the assistance given by the French to the Young Pretender's
ill-starred descent upon England, broke out with France; and Boscawen
was made Captain of the _Dreadnought_, of 60 guns. With her he very
soon after captured the _Medea_, a French frigate of 26 guns and 240
men, commanded by a M. Hocquart--whom in the course of our history
we shall twice meet again as Boscawen's prisoner. This was the first
prize taken in the war. For some time he continued doing what may be
called home duty--cruising in the Channel, sitting on courts-martial,
and acting as Commodore on board the _Royal Sovereign_, at the Nore.
Whilst acting in the latter capacity it fell within his province to
send out several of the newly-pressed men as they were brought to him
in company with some experienced seamen, in frigates and small vessels,
to guard the mouths of many of the minor creeks and rivers along the
shores of Kent and Sussex.
In January, 1746, he was appointed to the _Namur_, formerly of 90 guns,
but afterwards reduced to a third-rate; and in November of that year,
being in command of a small squadron at the mouth of the Channel, he
captured two prizes--one a large privateer from St. Malo, the other
a despatch-boat from M. De Jonquiere (the commander of the French
fleet on the American station), with advices of the death of the Duc
D'Anville, and of the consequent failure of the expedition under that
officer's command.
We now approach the time when he was to receive his first wound of
consequence, and to perform one of the most gallant and self-denying
exploits of his brave career--a deed so daring and so brilliantly
successful as to excite the jealousy of Anson, his superior officer,
and thus to lay the foundation of an ill-feeling between those two
gallant seamen which, it is to be feared, can be traced throughout
their lives.
In 1747, whilst commanding a line-of-battle ship in the fleet intended
for America, under Admirals Anson and Vernon, he was present at the
gallant action of the 3rd May, off Cape Finisterre. 'Here,' says
Campbell, 'Boscawen signalized himself equally by his heroism and
his judgment. The French fleet, having got the weather-gage, kept up
a constant and well-directed fire on the English ships as they turned
to windward to form the line abreast of the enemy. But Boscawen,
perceiving that our ships would thereby be disabled before their guns
could be brought to bear upon the French line, and his ship being
a very superior sailer to any of the rest, and being, besides, the
leading ship of the van, pressed forward with a crowd of sail, received
himself the greatest part of the enemy's fire, and singly maintained
the conflict until the remainder of the fleet came up to his support;
by which daring but judicious manœuvre _he principally contributed_ to
the success with which on that day the British arms were crowned.[92]
On this occasion he was severely wounded in the shoulder by a
musket-ball. His country, however, was not long deprived of his
services by this misfortune, from the effects of which he recovered in
a few weeks.' At Finisterre all the French ships, ten in number, were
taken, including the _Diamant_, of 56 tons, commanded by M. Hocquart,
who thus became, for the second time, Boscawen's prisoner.
Shortly after being made Rear-Admiral of the Blue, he was invested with
a command which shows the remarkable estimation in which he was held by
the Government, receiving, as he did, a commission from the King as
Admiral and Commandant of a squadron of six ships of the line and five
frigates, with 2,000 soldiers on board, ordered for the East Indies;
and also as General and Commander-in-Chief of the land forces employed
in the expedition--'the only instance, except that of the Earl of
Peterborough, of any officer having received such a command since the
reign of Charles II.' Yet, such were his tact and personal character,
that no ill-feeling arose on the part of the troops thus placed under
his command--in fact, as an officer, quoted by Campbell, quaintly says,
'the Admiral, by his genteel behaviour, gained the love of the land
officers, and never was greater harmony among all degrees of men than
in this expedition;' notwithstanding which it failed in effecting the
main objects which it had in view, viz. the capture of Pondicherry,
and the attack on Port Louis, Mauritius, _en route_ thither. He sailed
from St. Helen's on the 4th November, 1747; but owing to bad weather
and contrary winds, did not reach the Cape of Good Hope till the 29th
March, 1748; and here he remained a short time to refresh his jaded
crews.
The difficulties of the landing at Port Louis, and the strength of
the batteries by which it was defended, were such as to triumph over
even the genius and courage of Boscawen; and after vain though most
strenuous search for a practicable landing-place, the Admiral called
a council of war, at which it was determined that a small boat-party
should land during the night with a view to capturing (if possible)
at least one man of the enemy, from whom they might obtain information
as to the numbers and situation of the French forces. This ingenious
attempt, however, failed; and at a second council of war it was
agreed that the attack on Port Louis, even if it succeeded (which
was doubtful), would necessitate the leaving behind so large a force
to occupy the place, that it would imperil the chances of capturing
Pondicherry, the principal object of the expedition; and to this it may
be added that Boscawen had lost many of his men from their eating a
poisonous fish called the vieille, at the island of Roderique.
They accordingly sailed at once for Fort St. David, near Pondicherry,
which place they reached on the 29th July; and here Boscawen took over
the command, from Admiral Griffin, of what had now become the largest
'marine force belonging to any one European nation that had ever been
seen in the Indian seas.' Boscawen marched forward with his army on the
8th of August, and opened the trenches on the 27th. But his men rapidly
grew sick in that unwholesome climate; his chief engineer was killed;
the monsoons were shortly expected. It was found that the garrison far
outnumbered the besiegers, and, 'everything having been done which
gallantry and perseverance could perform,' writes Walpole, on the 6th
October it was finally determined to raise the siege.[93] And a gale,
on 14th April, 1749, arose, which seems to have been the main cause
of the unsuccessful termination of the whole expedition--the Admiral's
flag-ship, the _Namur_, foundered; the _Pembroke_ and the _Apollo_
(hospital ship) were also lost, together with a very large proportion
of their crews. Providentially, our Admiral and General was on shore at
the time.
Not long afterwards peace was declared at Aix-la-Chapelle, and Boscawen
had, at least, the gratification of having Madras delivered up to him.
In April, 1750, he returned to England in the _Exeter_, to find that
during his absence he had been appointed Rear-Admiral of the White;
and additional honours soon after fell to his lot. In 1751 he was made
a Lord Commissioner of the Admiralty, and at the Board's meetings
found many opportunities of falling foul of his old foe, Anson, whom
he always suspected, perhaps without sufficient cause, of having sent
him on what the former knew from the beginning would be the fruitless
expedition to Pondicherry. This suspicion, however, would seem to be
confirmed by a letter from Walpole to Mann, dated 31st January, 1750,
in which the writer says that Boscawen was unfortunate during the
whole expedition (East Indies), and that Anson sent him upon it 'on
purpose to ruin him ... upon slight intelligence, and upon improbable
views.' A jealousy, as we have seen, had previously arisen between the
two Admirals over the Cape Finisterre affair, when Boscawen complained
loudly of Anson's behaviour. In July, 1751, he was made an Elder
Brother of the Trinity House; and in May, 1754, he was, for the third
time, chosen to represent in the House of Commons his old borough of
Truro, between which and himself there had existed so long and friendly
a connexion;--and now, 'for want of something better to do,' as one of
his biographers insinuates, he became a zealous politician.
In 1755 he was made Vice-Admiral of the Blue; and, the French beginning
to display ambitious projects in America, Boscawen was despatched
from Spithead on 19th April, with a strong fleet, to frustrate
their designs. The French Admiral was M. Bois de la Motte, and he
had a large and powerful armament of twenty-five ships of the line,
and other vessels, together with a train of artillery, etc., etc.
Boscawen's force consisted of eleven sail and a frigate, together with
two regiments of infantry. He was, however, afterwards reinforced
by six ships of the line and another frigate under the command of
Rear-Admiral Holbourne. The English ships waited for the Frenchmen off
Cape Ray, Newfoundland; but in a fog the French Admiral eluded his
antagonists, and contrived to get his ships (with two exceptions) into
harbour. These two ships Boscawen captured on the 10th June, after a
gallant engagement of five hours. They contained £80,000 in specie,
a large number of French officers, and altogether 1,500 prisoners.
The two French ships were the _Alcide_ and _Lys_ (each of 64 guns),
which were taken by the _Defiance_ and the _Dunkirk_. Again Boscawen
took the first French ships during the war; and again found his old
acquaintance, M. Hocquart, on board one of them, who thus for the third
time became the British Admiral's prisoner of war. The story of the
action is thus graphically told by Lord Mahon:
'Only the day before King George III. embarked at Harwich (for his
usual summer residence at his beloved Hanover, notwithstanding the
strong feeling which existed against his leaving the kingdom at so
critical a time) Admiral Boscawen, with eleven ships of the line and
two regiments on board, set sail from Portsmouth. His orders were to
follow a large French armament which had recently been equipped at
Brest, and to attack it if designed for the Bay of St. Lawrence. A
thick fog off Newfoundland concealed the rival fleets from each other;
but two English ships, the first commanded by Captain (afterwards
Lord) Howe, came within speech of two French ships. The foreign
commandant inquired if it was war or peace. Howe replied that he must
wait for his Admiral's signal, but that he advised the Frenchman to
prepare for war. Ere long appeared Boscawen's signal for engaging;
Howe attacked, and after an engagement, in which he displayed equal
skill and intrepidity, succeeded in taking the two French ships--the
_Alcide_ and the _Lys_. The rest of the French armament--eight or nine
ships of the line--got safe into the harbour of Louisbourg; and their
safety caused as great disappointment in England as the capture of
their consorts irritation in France. The French Ambassador in London,
M. de Mirepoix, was recalled at these tidings, yet still there was not
on either side a formal declaration of war.'
On the 15th November, Boscawen returned to England with his prizes and
his prisoners, and anchored at Spithead.
In the following year, 1756, he commanded the squadron in the Bay of
Quiberon, stationed there for the purpose of watching the French fleet;
but, so far as I am aware, was engaged in no important active service
on that occasion. His leisure, however, gave him an opportunity of
showing the interest he took in the welfare of his men, as well as his
resource in alleviating the tedium of their unoccupied time, by setting
them to work to cultivate a barren island, and converting it into a
fruitful garden, whose produce was an extremely welcome adjunct to the
invariable salt junk and biscuit of those days. Promotions, however,
came, and he was made, at short intervals, successively Vice-Admiral of
the White and of the Red.
But the year 1758 proved more eventful for our hero; and is perhaps the
most memorable in his annals, for it witnessed his gallant attack and
capture of Louisbourg--'once mistress of the seas,' and 'the key to
French America,' but now consisting of a few fishermen's huts and some
moss-covered ruins. This event directly led to the conquest of Canada.
On the 28th of May, being now full Admiral, he sailed from his old
starting-point, St. Helen's. And here it may be well, in order to
understand the importance of the service on which Boscawen was now
engaged, to take a rapid glance at the general position of affairs.
In 1758 there was war in each of the four quarters of the globe.
England was triumphing over the Gallic power in India, and over
its settlements on the western shores of Africa. And Pitt, having
decided on dealing a blow at the French in North America, planned an
expedition for the conquest of Cape Breton and St. John's. Disregarding
the old principles of selecting for the command officers whose
chief recommendation was their family connexions or their political
influence, he selected General (afterwards Lord) Amherst to command
the army, and Boscawen to be the head of the fleet. The armament
(says Lord Mahon) assembled at Halifax, and consisted of 150 sail and
12,000 soldiers. On 2nd June it came to anchor within seven miles of
Louisbourg, the capital of Cape Breton. The land-defences of this place
had been carefully strengthened by the French, in expectation of the
attack; five ships of the line were drawn up in the harbour, and the
garrison, soldiers and marines together, exceeded 6,000 men. It was
with much difficulty, and after stout resistance, that the English
effected their landing. Wolfe (who had attracted Pitt's notice by his
behaviour before Rochefort) was the first to spring from the boats
into the raging surf, and cheer on his soldiers to the charge. During
the whole siege his ardour and activity were equally conspicuous.[94]
The conduct of General Amherst also deserves high praise; and the
most cordial co-operation--another proof how judiciously the chiefs
had been chosen--prevailed between himself and Admiral Boscawen. For
the besieged, they kept up their fire with much spirit, and attempted
several sallies; but before the close of July, many of their cannon
being dismounted, and divers practicable breaches made in the walls,
they were compelled to capitulate. The garrison became prisoners of
war, and were transported to England. Besides the ships captured in
the harbour, a large amount of stores and ammunition was found in
the place. Wolfe was on this occasion second in command to Amherst;
and Clinton, too, notes that 'for almost the first time in a mixed
expedition there was perfect accord between all ranks of both services:
Boscawen, Amherst, and Wolfe concerted all measures without jealousy,
and an eye-witness records that "the soldiers worked like horses,
making the roads, and drawing up the cannon, while the sailors went
and lent a hand to build up the batteries."' The whole island of Cape
Breton submitted, on the fall of its capital; and the island of St.
John's followed the fate of Cape Breton, being occupied by Colonel Lord
Rollo with a detachment of troops. Eleven pairs of French colours taken
during the siege were, by his Majesty's command, carried in procession,
with kettle-drums and trumpets sounding, from Kensington Palace to St.
Paul's Cathedral, and deposited there amidst a salute of cannon and
other public demonstrations of triumph. They were received by the Dean
and Chapter, and put up near the west door of the Cathedral, whilst the
guns of the Tower and St. James's Park thundered out their victorious
salutes. Sir Henry Ellis, in his edition (1818) of Dugdale's 'St.
Paul's,' says that, of the flags and banners hung inside the nave and
round the dome, the oldest were those taken at Louisbourg. Nor were
the rejoicings confined to London; a great number of other towns and
corporations lighted bonfires in the streets, and sent addresses of
congratulation to the King; and a form of prayer and thanksgiving for
the victory was read in all the churches in England.
Among the many brilliant exploits of the British navy during the
year 1758--during which period we captured or destroyed 16 French
men-of-war, 49 privateers, and 104 merchant ships, besides 176 neutral
ships seized as laden with French colonial produce or military
stores--Boscawen's share was as we have seen, conspicuous.
It was not until the 1st of November that our Admiral returned, with
four of his ships, to St. Helen's, having, on the way home, fallen in
with six French ships off the Scilly Islands, of which, however, he was
unable to give his usual good account, as they sailed much faster than
his. He nevertheless managed to disable one of them, the _Belliqueux_,
and drove her up the Bristol Channel, where she was secured by the
_Antelope_.
The following 6th of December was a proud day for the victorious naval
hero; for, in his place in Parliament, he received the thanks of the
House of Commons. In the course of Speaker Onslow's address conveying
the thanks of the House, he declared himself 'unable to enumerate and
set forth the great and extensive advantages accruing to this nation
from the conquest of Louisbourg, with the islands of Cape Breton and
St. John,' and described the vote of thanks as 'a national honour from
a free people, ever cautiously conferred, in order to be the more
esteemed, and the greater reward; a reward which ought to be reserved
for the most signal services to the State, as well as for the most
approved merit in it.' Boscawen's reply was characteristically short,
modest, and sailor-like. He said, from his place, 'Mr. Speaker, I am
happy in having been able to do my duty; but have not words to express
my sense of the distinguished reward that has been conferred upon me by
this House; nor can I enough thank you, sir, for the polite and elegant
manner in which you have been pleased to convey to me the Resolution.'
The _Gentleman's Magazine_ for August, 1758, gives a long and (to
military men at least) an interesting journal of this important siege,
of which the following is a _résumé_[95]:
Owing to the violence of the surf, great difficulties appear to have
existed in landing the troops and _matériel_ for the operations; and,
on the 23rd June, Boscawen had to inform his colleague that no less
than 100 boats had, up to that time, been lost in the various attempts
which had been made. Nor was this the only way in which the naval
commander endeavoured to contribute to the success of the undertaking,
for on the 26th June, with 200 marines, the Admiral took the French
post of Kennington Cove, which proved, as General Amherst said, 'a
great ease to the army.' To add to the difficulties of the undertaking
small-pox broke out, and proved fatal in a great many cases--2,000
men dying from this and other causes during the expedition; whilst
dense fogs and stormy weather also frequently hindered the progress
of their operations; yet, in spite of a host of similar discouraging
circumstances, the work was pushed on with truly British vigour and
tenacity. On the 25th of July, Boscawen sent in boats with 600 men into
the harbour, and took two French ships--the _Prudent_, of 74 guns,
and the _Bienfaisant_, of 64 guns--whose fire had terribly galled the
besiegers. The former vessel was burnt, as she was aground; but the
_Bienfaisant_ was captured and towed into the north-east harbour.
Boscawen, in his letter to Pitt of 28th July, 1758, refers to this as
'a particular gallant action' on the part of his captains. A similar
operation was to have been attempted on the following day, but the
French had by this time had enough of it; an offer of capitulation
was made by the Governor, and articles were agreed upon, including
the surrender of the garrison--over 3,000 men--as prisoners of war,
together with sailors and naval officers to the number of 2,606. A vast
number of mortars and cannon, etc., were also taken. Thus the strong
fortress of Louisbourg fell, the islands of Cape Breton and St. John
thereupon surrendered, and a deadly blow was inflicted on the French
arms.[96] The insurance on vessels to America at once fell from 25 or
30 to 12 per cent., and on the 26th August the Lord Mayor of London,
with many of the principal citizens, waited on the King to congratulate
him upon the victory. In the course of their address occurs the
following passage, which I quote as illustrative of the importance
which the City attached to the event, and of the strong anti-Gallic
feeling which prevailed at that time:
'May these valuable acquisitions, so gloriously obtained, ever
continue a part of the British Empire, as an effectual check to
the perfidy and ambition of a nation whose repeated insults and
usurpations obliged your Majesty to enter into this just and necessary
war. And may these instances of the wisdom of your Majesty's
councils, of the conduct and resolution of your commanders, and of
the intrepidity of your fleets and armies, convince the world of the
innate strength and resources of your kingdoms, and dispose your
Majesty's enemies to yield to a safe and honourable peace.'
Exeter, Cambridge, and other important places followed suit.