'Praise enough
To fill the ambition of a private man;'
but his career was not to close without his having at least one more
opportunity of distinguishing himself. In the following year, on the
14th April, 1759, he was again afloat; on this occasion appointed to
the command in the Mediterranean, with a view to overmastering the
French fleet. Having vainly endeavoured to entice the enemy out of
their harbour at Toulon, the British Admiral withdrew to Gibraltar to
refit; and whilst here, having ascertained that the French ships under
M. De la Clue had somehow contrived to pass the Straits without his
being able to prevent them, he came to the conclusion that their object
was to effect a junction with the Brest fleet--a consummation which of
course Boscawen was bound to prevent. At once he gave the order for
pursuit, and slipping his war-hounds from the leash, he came up with
the enemy in Lagos Bay, some 150 sea miles north-west of Gibraltar
Straits. He had pursued the Frenchmen all night, and came up with
them at 2 p.m. on the following day, when, after a furious engagement
which lasted some hours, he captured or destroyed nearly half the
enemy's ships, and thus 'effectually defeated the magnificent scheme
of invading England, with which the French Minister had for some time
amused the military ardour and romantic spirit of his countrymen.'
It is worth while to give Boscawen's account to the Admiralty of the
memorable action in his own words:
'I acquainted you in my last of my return to Gibraltar to refit.
As soon as the ships were near ready, I ordered the _Lyme_ and
_Gibraltar_, the only frigates ready, the first to cruise off Malaga,
the last from Estepona to Ceuta Point, to look out, and give me timely
notice of the enemy's approach.
'On the 17th, at eight in the evening, the _Gibraltar_ made the signal
of their appearance, fourteen sail, on the Barbary shore, to the
eastward of Ceuta. I got under sail as fast as possible, and was out
of the bay before ten, with fourteen sail of the line, the _Shannon_
frigate, and _Ætna_ fireship. At daylight I saw the _Gibraltar_, and
soon after seven large ships lying to; but on our not answering their
signals, they made sail from us. We had a fresh gale that brought us
up with them fast till about noon, when it fell little wind. About
half an hour past two, some of the headmost ships began to engage, but
I could not get up to the _Ocean_ till near four. In about half an
hour the _Namur's_ mizzen-mast and both topsail-yards were shot away.
The enemy then made all the sail they could. I shifted my flag to the
_Newark_, and soon after the _Centaur_, of 74 guns, struck.[97]
'I pursued all night, and in the morning of the 19th saw only four
sail standing in for the land, two of the best sailers having altered
their course in the night; we were not above three miles from them,
and not above five leagues from the shore, with very little wind.
About nine the _Ocean_ ran among the breakers, and the three others
anchored. I sent the _Intrepid_ and the _America_ to destroy the
_Ocean_. Captain Pratten having anchored, could not get in; but
Captain Kirke performed that service alone. On his first firing at
the _Ocean_ she struck, and Captain Kirke sent his officers on board.
M. De la Clue, having one leg broke and the other wounded, had been
landed about half an hour; but they found the captain, M. le Compte de
Carnes, and several officers and men, on board. Captain Kirke, after
taking them out, finding it impossible to bring the ship off, set
her on fire. Captain Bently, of the _Warspight_, was ordered against
the _Temeraire_, of 74 guns, and brought her off with little damage,
the officers and men all on board. At the same time, Vice-Admiral
Broderick, with his division, burnt the _Redoubtable_, her officers
and men having quitted her, being bulged; they brought the _Modeste_,
of 64 guns, off, very little damaged.
'I have the pleasure to acquaint their lordships, that most of his
Majesty's ships under my command sailed better than those of the enemy.
'Enclosed I send you a list of the French squadron, found on board the
_Modeste_.[98]
'Herewith you will also receive the number of the killed and wounded
on board his Majesty's ships (56 killed and 196 wounded), referring
their lordships for further particulars to Captain Buckle.'
Well might even the gentle poet Cowper say of so brilliant and
important an exploit as this was: 'When poor Bob White brought in the
news of Boscawen's success off the Coast of Portugal, how did I leap
for joy!'
As part of the results of his victory Boscawen took three large ships
and burnt two; and on the 15th of September reached Spithead with
his prizes and 2,000 prisoners. Unfortunately the victory involved
us in a protracted negotiation with the Portuguese, who complained,
not without reason, that the neutrality of their coasts had been
violated. It was on this occasion that Pitt, in giving, in his letter
to Mr. Hay, then British Minister at Lisbon, his directions for the
conduct of the negotiations, loftily writes on the 12th September,
1759: 'You will be particularly attentive not to employ any favourable
circumstances to justify what the Law of Nations condemns!' Yet the
great Minister was careful to add in his P.S. that 'any personal
mark on a great Admiral who has done so essential a service to his
country, or on anyone under his command, _is totally inadmissible_; as
well as the idea of restoring the ships of war taken.' The delicate
political considerations involved in this transaction may perhaps
account for Boscawen's not again receiving the thanks of the House;
but that the enormous value of the service which he had rendered was
not unperceived, may be seen from the fact that the City of Edinburgh
embraced this opportunity of presenting the Admiral with its 'freedom.'
After a while, however, more substantial rewards followed. He was made
a Privy Councillor; and, on 8th December, 1760, a General of Marines,
with a salary of £3,000 a year. It may be a matter of surprise with
some that no title was conferred upon Boscawen; but, as a public
writer has recently observed: 'Naval services have been by no means so
frequently rewarded by peerages as military services, especially of
late years; as may be gathered from the fact that while the Queen has
already created thirteen military peers, she has created only two naval
peers--namely, the late Sir Edmund Lyons, made Baron Lyons after the
Crimean War in 1856, and Lord Alcester. Before that the latest naval
peerage was the Barony of De Saumerez conferred on Sir James Saumerez
in 1831 by William IV.; and before that, again, the Viscounty of
Exmouth, conferred on the Cornish Admiral Sir Edward Pellew in 1816 by
the Prince Regent. And, even from the age of the great French War of
the end of last and the beginning of the current century, the titles
remaining in the peerage are far from numerous: Nelson, Bridport,
Camperdown, Gardner, Graves, Hood, Howe, Rodney, and St. Vincent,
nearly or quite exhausting the list.' In the present instance there
was probably the further consideration that our Admiral's brother was
already a Viscount, whilst his own son was heir apparent to that title.
We now come to Boscawen's last service--once more in the Bay of
Quiberon--where he was posted with a view to his following up Conflans
after his defeat by Hawke. In this command he was relieved on the 26th
August; and little remains to be told except the final record that, on
the 10th January, 1761, this thoroughbred seaman and gentleman died of
a bilious fever, when only fifty years of age, at his seat, Hatchlands
Park, near Guildford, Surrey. But his body was laid amongst those of
his ancestors in the remote and quiet little church of St. Michael
Penkivel--'grata quies patriæ'--where no more warlike cannonade was
destined to disturb his repose than the sunset and sunrise gun from
Pendennis or St. Mawes Castles, or from the guard-ship stationed in the
adjacent harbour of Falmouth.[99]
His monument, of white marble, is an imposing piece of statuary, the
most prominent part of which is a bust designed by Adam, and executed
by Rysbrack, which well displays the bluff, portly, and determined
features of one of England's bravest and ablest sons. But, to my mind,
the best and loveliest part of that trophied memorial is the following
inscription from the pen of the well-beloved partner of all his joys
and sorrows:
'_Satis Gloriæ sed haud satis Reipublicæ_:
'Here lies the Right Honourable Edward Boscawen, Admiral of the Blue,
General of Marines, Lord of the Admiralty and one of his Majesty's
Most Honourable Privy Council. His birth tho' noble, his titles tho'
illustrious, were but incidental additions to his greatness.
'History, in more expressive and more indelible characters, will
inform latest posterity with what ardent zeal, with what successful
valour, he served his country, and taught her enemies to dread her
naval power.
'In command he was equal to every emergency--superior to ev'ry
difficulty. In his high departments masterly and upright. His example
form'd while his patronage rewarded merit.
'With the highest exertions of Military greatness he united the
gentlest offices of humanity.
'His concern for the interest and unwearied attention to the health of
all under his command softened the necessary exactions of duty and the
rigors of discipline by the care of a guardian and the tenderness of a
father.
'Thus belov'd and rever'd, amiable in private life as illustrious in
public, this gallant and profitable servant of his country, when he
was beginning to reap the harvest of his toils and dangers, in the
full meridian of years and glory, after having been providentially
preserved from every peril incident to his profession, died of a
fever on the 10th of Jany. in the year 1761, the 50th of his age, at
Hatchlands Park in Surrey, a seat he had just finished at the expense
of the enemies of his country, and (amidst the groans and tears of his
beloved Cornishmen) was here deposited.
'His once happy wife inscribes this marble--an unequal testimony of
his worth, and of her affection.'
Here perhaps it may conveniently be added that his name is still
honourably remembered in the Navy, for the _Boscawen_, of 101 guns, was
one of the Baltic fleet in 1854; and there is a ship of that name, now
stationed at Weymouth, used as a naval training-ship for boys.
The career of Admiral Boscawen depicts his character. It was that of a
brave, blunt, determined sailor of the old school. He could not look
at a French ship without desiring to fight her; and his determination,
according to his enemies, amounted to obstinacy. Walpole tells us how
the Admiral in 1757 is said to have been recalled from his then station
to serve under Hawke, which he declined to do, 'and his Boscawenhood
is now much more Boscawened; that is surly in the deepest shade;' and
the same writer says, in another place, that he was 'the most obstinate
man of an obstinate family.' Yet even Walpole is compelled to pay this
somewhat unwilling tribute to the Admiral's worth during the perilous
time when he served his country so well: 'Never did the bravery of
the English and the want of spirit in the French appear in greater
opposition; the former making their attacks on spots which the French
deemed impregnable, threw them into utter dismay; and dictated a very
quick and unjustifiable submission--Boscawen's rough courage was fully
known before.' And a recent critic, who has already been quoted more
than once (himself a naval officer), thus sums up our hero's character:
'He was virtuous like Anson and Hawke, and as brave and eager for
employment and distinction as Nelson himself.'
But the prize which the Cornish hero must have valued most must have
been the eulogium which Chatham, when Prime Minister, addressed to
him--words with which I may not inaptly close this imperfect sketch of
his life and actions:
'When I apply to other officers respecting any expedition I may
chance to project, they always raise difficulties; _you_ always find
expedients.'
_MRS. BOSCAWEN._
It is not too much to say of the Admiral's wife that she was worthy
of him, and that she was duly proud of his name and reputation. We
have seen how she thought her daughter Elizabeth was no unfit match
for a duke, remarking that she was '_Admiral Boscawen's_ daughter;'
and she was dearly fond of the sea, 'delighting in it (as she used to
say) beyond all sights and all objects whatever,' until the mournful
day came when he for whose sake she had loved it so dearly had ended
his connexion with it for ever; and then she spoke of it as that sea
whose memories 'had cost her so many tears.' She was the only daughter
of William Evelyn Glanville, Esq., of St. Clere near Ightham, Kent,
and was of the family of the celebrated John Evelyn, whom she was
fond of calling her 'good, old uncle;' and she took immense interest
accordingly in the production of Dr. Hunter's new edition of the
'Sylva.'[100]
When twenty-four years of age she was married, in December, 1742, to
Admiral Boscawen, seven years her senior, and they seem to have been a
well-suited, happy couple. Her character is perhaps best seen in the
interesting gossiping letters which she and Mrs. Delany (a Grenville
of Stow) interchanged. She was also a correspondent of Hannah More and
Mrs. Chapone.
Hannah More, in her 'Sensibility,' writes thus of her:
'Accept, Boscawen! these unpolish'd lays,
Nor blame too much the verse you cannot praise.
For you far other bards have wak'd the string;
Far other bards for you were wont to sing.
* * * * *
You heard the lyres of Lyttelton and Young;
And this a Grace, and that a Seraph strung.'
And in another place she adds:
'On you, Boscawen, when you fondly melt
In raptures none but mothers ever felt,
And view, enamour'd, in your beauteous race,
All Leveson's sweetness, and all Beaufort's grace!
Yet think _what dangers_ each lov'd child may share,
The youth _if valiant_, and the maid _if fair_?'
The reason for dedicating this poem of '_Sensibility_' to Mrs. Boscawen
is glanced at in the following couplet:
''Tis _this_, whose charms the soul resistless seize,
And gives Boscawen half her pow'r to please.'
On the death of her husband, Dr. Young thus addressed her, in a
postscript to his poem 'Resignation',
'Why mourn the dead? You wrong the grave,
From storms that safe resort;
We still are tossing out at sea--
Our _Admiral's_ in port.'
As another illustration of her intimacy with literary people, and of
her fondness for their pursuits, it may be mentioned that Mrs. Boscawen
was one of the society of 'eminent friends, both ladies and gentlemen,'
who used to meet at Mrs. Montagu's, where she made herself welcome,
says Dr. Doran, by 'the strength of her understanding, the poignancy of
her humour, and the brilliancy of her wit.' A Mr. Stillingfleet, one
of the coterie, was rather slovenly in his costume, and, amongst other
delinquencies, wore _grey_ stockings, which caused Admiral Boscawen
humorously to affix to the whole party a name which has now become a
household word--'The Blue Stockings.'
After they had been dining together on the 29th April, 1778, at Allan
Ramsay's--when Dr. Johnson and Sir Joshua Reynolds had been of the
party--Boswell wrote of Mrs. Boscawen, 'If it be not presumptuous in
me to praise her, let me say that her manners were the most agreeable,
and her conversation the best of any lady of our party with whom I had
the happiness of being acquainted.' Tenderhearted and sprightly she
undoubtedly was; and, as an instance of her vivacity, I may perhaps be
excused for quoting a passage in one of her letters to Mrs. Delany
which Lady Llanover has given in those well-known 'Memoirs' of her
ancestress, to which I have already more than once referred. 'The first
time,' writes Mrs. Boscawen, 'I experienced the pains of child-bearing,
I concluded that no woman had ever endured the like upon the like
occasion, and that I could not possibly recover it; whereas I danced a
minuet about my room in ten days, to insult my nurse-keeper and set her
a scolding for my diversion!'
But she was something more than a vivacious letter-writer and a
dilettante, for she dabbled too in political affairs, especially in
the Cornish elections, giving her interest to 'the old members' rather
than to Sir William Lemon in 1774. She took, of course, great interest
in the warlike views of the day; and on returning to her inn one
evening whilst she was travelling through the country, on hearing of
the retaking of Long Island, 'made a most agreeable supper and drank
health to the noble brothers'--the two Howes. When her son-in-law,
Mr. Leveson, had the command of the _Valiant_, man-of-war, conferred
upon him in November, 1776, she set to work for him 'with great
alacrity,' as she says, to raise a crew of fishermen in Cornwall. In
fact, throughout her life her correspondence shows that she took the
keenest possible interest in the doings of our army and navy. As an
illustration of the warlike spirit which at this time pervaded even
the bosoms of the gentler sex, Walpole thus writes in May, 1778: 'The
Parliament is only to have short adjournments; and our senators,
instead of retiring to horse-races (_their_ plough), are all turned
soldiers, and disciplining militia. Camps everywhere, and the ladies in
the uniforms of their husbands.' 'It is said,' writes Mrs. Boscawen to
Mrs. Delany, 'that the Duchess of Devonshire marched through Islington
at the head of the Derbyshire Militia, dressed in the uniform of that
regiment!'
Her residence when in London seems to have been generally in Audley
Street; but she also had a pretty place at Enfield, and a small house
at Colney Hatch which she used to call her 'nut-shell.'
When about eighty years of age she was living at Rosedale, a place
near the entrance to Richmond from Kew, which was formerly occupied by
the poet Thomson, whose table, cane, and chair were long preserved in
the house; and whilst residing here a little poetical correspondence
took place which may be worth recording, not only as an illustration
of the courtly politeness of the time, and of the respect in which
the good old lady was evidently held by her contemporaries, but also
because Mrs. Boscawen's letter, written in a firm, almost manly hand,
notwithstanding her advanced age, is still preserved in the British
Museum, where it will be found in the Additional MSS. Pye, the Poet
Laureate, had written a sonnet on Rosedale, which he communicated to
the Rev. W. Butler, who sent it on to Mrs. Boscawen. The lines, by no
means remarkable for vigour or originality, conclude thus:
'Still Fancy's Train your verdant Paths shall Trace,
Tho' clos'd her fav'rite Votary's dulcet lay;
Each wonted Haunt their footsteps still shall grace,
Still Genius thro' your green Retreats shall stray:
For, from the Scene BOSCAWEN loves to grace,
Th' Attendant Muse shall ne'er be long away.'
The lady graciously acknowledged the compliment conveyed to her in the
last two lines, and thus replied on the 26th June, 1797:
'SIR,
'I am sure I ought to return you my gratefull acknowledgm^{ts} for
the obliging Present you have made me of some sweet Stanzas on this
spot,--and my two Predecessors. Mr. Ross was certainly an Admirer of
His, & paid that Respect to his Memory as to retain the little Parlour
where Mr. Thomson liv'd, tho' he rebuilt every other Part of the
House, extending it very much.
'The little Rustick Seat w^{ch} inspir'd your poetick Dialogue I
found in such a State of decay that I was oblig'd to take it down,
_but, reserving all the Materials_, I have replac'd it in a retir'd
part of the Garden much enlarg'd and hung round with votive Tablets
or Inscriptions in Honour of your admir'd Poet. His Bust is on the
Pedament of the Seat, and in front is written
'"Here Thomson sung
The Seasons & their Change."
In the Alcove is a little old Table, w^h I am assur'd belonged to Him,
but Sir, if ever you sh^d have leisure to pay another Visit to your
_matchless Favourite_, You will I hope find Him honour'd by
'Your most humble Serv^t,
'F. BOSCAWEN.'
After surviving her husband for forty-four years, and never marrying
again, the Honourable Frances Evelyn Boscawen closed her long and
amiable life at her house in Audley Street, in March, 1805, at the
venerable age of eighty-six; and was buried in the same vault with her
husband at St. Michael Penkivel, where a monument designed by her son,
George Evelyn, third Viscount Falmouth, and executed by Nollekens, was
erected to her memory. An epitaph does her no more than justice.
[Illustration: (end of chapter vignette.)]