Billy Ruffian

SIX The Aftermath 1794

Twelve days passed before the people of London learnt of the battle which had taken place out in the Atlantic. News travelled at the speed of a galloping horse on land but at sea it all depended on the vagaries of wind and weather. On the morning after the battle, Lord Howe had sat down at the table in his great cabin and compiled his report. He had headed it, 'Queen Charlotte at Sea, June 2, 1794. Ushant E.Half N.140 Leagues.' He outlined the main events of the previous day and provided details of the French ships which had been captured. When he had completed the despatch he gave it to his flag captain, Sir Roger Curtis, to deliver to the Admiralty. Curtis boarded the frigate Phaeton and headed for England, leaving the fleet to limp slowly home with its prizes in tow. The Phaeton arrived in Plymouth at 5 pm on 9 June and was met by the Cockchafer, an armed lugger on hire to the navy, which carried Curtis ashore so that he could take an express postchaise to London. No other boats were permitted to approach the Phaeton which immediately weighed anchor and headed eastwards up the Channel under a crowd of sail.

In the haste to deliver Lord Howe's despatch, the postchaise overturned, causing Sir Roger Curtis to bruise his arm severely so that when he arrived at the Admiralty on the evening of 10 June he had his arm in a sling. Within a few hours the news had got around and the following day The Times published a brief report under the headline 'IMPORTANT NAVAL VICTORY!!!!' which described how the English had gained a victory over the French fleet by the capture of six sail of the line 'after a severe conflict of many hours'. The next day The Times published Lord Howe's despatch in full and recorded the first reactions of the people of London:

We never recollect to have witnessed more general joy, than was manifested on every countenance throughout yesterday, in consequence of the GLORIOUS VICTORY obtained on the 1st inst. by his MAJESTY'S NAVAL FORCES under the command of Earl Howe; - a victory, which we may say with confidence, has so crippled the navy of France, that it will be impossible for the French to send another grand fleet to sea, at least during the present campaign.

England badly needed a victory. The most recent war had ended ignominiously with the defeat of the British armies in America and the loss of the American colonies, and the country now faced an aggressive French nation which had executed its king, guillotined or driven abroad thousands of its aristocrats, instituted a reign of terror, and declared war on its neighbours in Europe. As news of Lord Howe's victory spread across the capital the joyful sound of church bells rang out from Shoreditch in the east to Westminster and Chelsea in the west. Flags were hoisted everywhere, and from the ships moored in the river came the sporadic booming of guns. At the Opera House the band led the audience in a rousing rendition of 'Rule Britannia', followed by 'God save the King'. At Lloyds a subscription was opened for the relief of the widows and children of sailors who had died in the battle and within two hours more than 1,000 guineas had been collected. That night, the theatres and many of the public buildings and streets were illuminated to celebrate the occasion.

Meanwhile Lord Howe's fleet was making the slow voyage home. Some of the damaged British ships were sailing with jury masts and rigs, and the six dismasted French prizes were so crippled that they had to be towed all the way. The fleet was also slowed down by several days of calms and light breezes. On board the Bellerophon the crew continued to clear away the wreckage and had to heave one of the boats overboard because it was shot to pieces. The already cramped conditions below deck were put under further strain when space had to be found for 174 prisoners from the French ship L'Achille and then another 24 prisoners who were transferred from the frigate Venus.

On Sunday 8 June, a week after the battle, Lord Howe gave the signal for the ships to close round the flagship. Under an overcast sky, with the surface of the flat, grey sea only lightly ruffled by a northerly breeze, the scattered fleet contracted to form a dense thicket of swaying masts and sails. To the accompaniment of creaking wooden blocks and the occasional flapping of heavy canvas, the men assembled for services of thanksgiving. The service on the Bellerophon was led by the ship's chaplain, the Reverend John Fresselicque. The chaplain had been educated at Queens' College, Cambridge, and had been domestic chaplain to Lord Northesk. He used the occasion to give a lengthy sermon which he later published to raise funds for the benefit of those members of the crew who had been wounded and disabled in the three days of fighting. His sermon was couched in language so tortuous and long-winded that it must have gone over the heads of most of the sailors and marines listening in respectful silence. He took as his text a verse from Psalm 115, 'Not unto us, O Lord. Not unto us, but unto thy name give glory for thy mercy and for thy truth's sake.' And he followed this by a sentence which set the tone for the rest of his sermon:

The natural impulse of gratitude in the mind of men, is never more forcible, or its effects more pleasant, than when the Heart is warmed by the pleasing recollection of the recent benefit; this disposition is always attended with the most agreeable sensations and the spontaneous effusions of the grateful spirit are given and received with equal condescension and favor in proportion as the declaration is made with sincerity.

Hidden amidst the chaplain's florid thanks to the Almighty were several references to the courage of the officers and men and also some pointers to the high morale and discipline of the crew. He noted that, during a conflict spread over five days and involving three separate actions with the enemy, 'no complaint of any kind, even for the most trifling omission was brought forward against any one of that ship's company, exceeding six hundred.' He also drew attention to the bravery, patience and resignation shown by the wounded Admiral Pasley: 'He fought like a hero - he bore his misfortune like a Christian.'

On 10 June observers at Plymouth spotted a three-decked ship on the horizon. She had damaged masts and rigging and was heading eastward up the Channel. It was presumed that she was one of Howe's fleet. This was confirmed when the next day eighteen of Howe's ships of the line and nine frigates sailed into Plymouth harbour. At dawn on 13 June the rest of the fleet, together with the French prizes, arrived at Portsmouth. Crowds rapidly gathered along the waterfront and, as Howe's flagship dropped anchor, the guns of the shore battery thundered out a salute. When Howe stepped ashore around midday the battery fired a second, deafening salute and the band of the Gloucester militia, which was drawn up on the lower end of the Grand Parade, played 'See the conquering hero comes'. By now there were people on the tops of buildings, at every balcony and window, filling the streets and packing the ramparts of the city's defences. As Howe passed through the cheering crowds he repeatedly thanked them but reminded them that it was 'the brave British seamen that did the business'.

Earlier that morning the Bellerophon had dropped anchor in the fleet anchorage at Spithead. Shortly afterwards Admiral Pasley was helped down the ship's side and into his barge. It was almost four years since he had first stepped on board the Bellerophon as her first captain, and we can only guess at his feelings as he was rowed away from the ship for the last time. He was heading, not for the jubilant crowds and the military band at Portsmouth, but for Gosport on the other side of the harbour entrance in order to have his wound treated by the surgeons at Haslar Hospital. According to a newspaper report he looked much better than might have been expected and waved his hand to the people who cheered him as he came ashore.

Pasley had proved an extremely effective captain and had made his mark as rear-admiral commanding Howe's flying squadron in the recent battle. On 26 July he was created a baronet and he was granted a pension of £l,000 a year for the loss of his leg. He was now sixty years old and might have been tempted to retire to his house in Winchester and to live out his days quietly with his wife and family. However, four years after the First of June, he was appointed commander-in-chief at the Nore and in March 1799 took up the post of port admiral at Plymouth where he gained a reputation for his hospitality.

The day after Pasley was rowed ashore some men arrived from the dockyard to examine the extent of the damage to the Bellerophon's hull, masts and rigging, but there were so many demands on the dockyard's facilities that five weeks were to pass before she was hauled alongside the sheer hulk in the dockyard for repairs to be carried out. Meanwhile the celebrations over Lord Howe's victory continued unabated and came to a climax with a review of the fleet by the King. This was a surprisingly rare event. Charles II and his brother James, Duke of York, had both taken a keen interest in the navy back in the 1660s and Pepys's diary records their various visits to the fleet. Since then, British monarchs had preferred to follow the fortunes of the navy from a distance. However King George III was a warm admirer of Lord Howe. The moment he heard the news of the 1 June victory he wrote to Howe's wife, telling her that 'nothing can give me more satisfaction than that it has been obtained by the skill and bravery of Earl Howe,' and he was determined to pay his respects to Howe, his officers and men in person.

The King and the rest of the royal family arrived at Portsmouth on Friday 27 June. At noon they were rowed out to the anchored fleet in Howe's barge, the red and gold colours of the royal standard flying from a flag staff at the stern. A procession of barges followed in their wake, carrying the Lords of the Admiralty and all the admirals and captains of the Channel fleet. Once again the deafening boom of guns echoed across the waters of the Solent as all the forts and all the anchored warships fired a royal salute. On the deck of the Royal Charlotte the King presented Howe with a magnificent sword set with diamonds. It was characteristic of Howe that he should later arrange for the sword to be shown to all the sailors on every ship in the fleet, together with a message to be read out from their commander-in-chief to the effect that the sword was proof of the King's admiration for all their exertions. The sailors were delighted by this gesture and Howe's message was greeted with three cheers from every ship.

The royal celebrations continued for the next four days and the festive atmosphere was greatly helped by a spell of fine and sunny weather. The King held a levee in the Commissioner's House to which all the naval officers were invited and he officiated at the launch of a first-rate ship in the dockyard. He and his family attended Sunday morning service in the dockyard church, and then boarded the frigate Aquilon and sailed across to Cowes and back. The following day they sailed from Portsmouth to Southampton, where they boarded their carriage and headed back to London.

One of the highlights of the King's visit was his inspection of the French prizes which were then anchored off the harbour entrance at Spithead but were later towed into the dockyard to be surveyed and then repaired for service in the British Navy. They attracted a lot of local attention and were painted and drawn by several marine artists who showed their decks crowded by sightseers, and the union flag flying above the French tricolour at the stern. Four of the ships were 74s and two of them were 80-gun ships. Although dismasted and mauled by gunshot, they were still an impressive sight and no doubt helped to underline the importance of Howe's victory in British eyes. And yet the French never regarded the First of June as a defeat because they had succeeded in their primary aim of safeguarding the vast grain convoy. Reporting to the Committee of Public Safety in Paris on 16 June, Barere presented the battle as a heroic victory by the sailors of the Republic over a superior British force. An ear of corn was produced as a symbol of the good news.

'The convoy of one hundred and sixteen vessels coming from America, has entered our ports,' announced Barere, 'and brings us subsistence of all kinds.' He told them that the English had united all their forces to capture the rich convoy but they had been foiled by the French fleet who had fought a battle which had been one of the most glorious and bloody that ever occurred. This was indeed the case, but he then indulged in some shameless propaganda, claiming that the French fleet was fourteen ships inferior in number to the British, that one of the British three-deckers had been sunk and that the British had been obliged to abandon to the French the scene of the action. 'Let Pitt then boast of this victory to his nation of shopkeepers,' he concluded to loud applause.

The Bellerophon spent the rest of the summer of 1794 in the vicinity of Portsmouth, recovering from her recent ordeal. She was hauled alongside one of the sheer hulks and a gang of workmen from the dockyard lifted out her damaged masts, replaced them with new masts, and set up the rigging. She was heeled over and had the weed scraped and scrubbed from her copper bottom. Rafts of heavy timbers were floated alongside her and secured with lines. These were used as working platforms by teams of caulkers who hammered oakum into the seams between her planks and then filled the seams with hot tar. The caulkers were followed by painters who used the rafts to slap paint on the ship's sides. Heavy working boats came alongside loaded with barrels of beef and ship's biscuit which were swung aboard using the blocks and tackles on the ship's yard-arms. The same system was used to lift aboard the barrels of gunpowder brought across from the powder store at Priddy's Hard.

At the end of August she left the sheltered waters of the harbour and sailed across the Solent to the anchorage at St Helen's. The sailors, most of whom had not been allowed shore leave in case they should desert the ship, became increasingly restive. Captain Hope decided to make an example of the worst offenders. On Saturday 23 August he assembled the crew on deck and ordered James Aldridge to be flogged with twenty-four lashes for disobedience and David Pugh with forty-eight lashes for drunkenness. Ten days later they put to sea and sailed to Torbay with a fleet of thirty ships of the line. From there they sailed down the Channel and once again resumed the task of patrolling the seas between Ushant and the Scilly Isles, keeping a lookout for French ships. This continued until the end of November when she returned to Spithead. On 1 December Captain Hope handed over command of the Bellerophon to another captain. He had been presented with a gold medal for his part in the Battle of the Glorious First of June and he continued to enjoy a distinguished career in the navy. He was knighted in 1815, was a Vice-Admiral by 1819 and the following year became a Lord of the Admiralty. Three of his four sons followed him into the navy.