The Fighting Temeraire: Legend of Trafalgar by Sam Willis
Quercus, London, 2009, £25.00 (hb)
xxxiii + 366 pages with 34 colour and blackand-white illustrations, 5 maps
ISBN 978-1-84724-9982
The Admiral Benbow: The life and times of a naval legend by Sam Willis
Quercus, London, 2010, £25.00 (hb)
xxxv + 410 pages with 66 colour and blackand-white illustrations, 6 maps
ISBN 978-1-84916-0360
The Glorious First of June: Fleet battle in the age of terror by Sam Willis
Quercus, London, 2011, £25.00 (hb)
xxxiii + 366 pages with 34 colour and blackand-white illustrations, 5 maps
ISBN 978-1-84916-0384
The ‘Great Age’ of the sailing warship has received such detailed study that is difficult to believe there is more to be said on the subject. Many (possibly most) Mariner's Mirror readers will emphatically doubt this view, and these books will justify their view. Taken together the Hearts of Oak trilogy aims to examine ‘three of the most iconic and yet largely unexplored stories of the period … that will slice together to form a narrative of an era which stretches from the English Civil War to the coming of steam’.
All three books consistently impress, and will afford pleasant reading and detailed understanding to both the specialist and the general reader. Many will be surprised at the volume and variety of surviving documentary and artistic evidence, which is consistently presented in considerable detail and to good effect. The illustrations are a significant contribution to research, while the author reproduces much primary documentary evidence to good effect. The quantitative evidence (including detailed costings for refitting ships) that is cited in Temeraire and the detailed account of the damage caused by Peter the Great to John Evelyn's house (in Benbow) are good examples.
The author writes succinctly and fluidly, and has been well served by his publishers. The small size of the illustrations, as reproduced in the paperback editions, presumably derives from their prior larger reproduction in hardback, but the high quality of their reproduction does much to alleviate this. The appendices, glossaries, bibliographies, and indices are exemplary, as are the maps (which are often poor in naval histories).
Against this background, the selection of specific points for comment from these complex works must be personal to the reviewer, to the point of idiosyncracy.
Temeraire is (predictably) centred around the famous painting by Turner, and provides an integrated study of the first two vessels of the name in Royal Navy service, combining the stories of their structures and fittings with those of their people and roles, and their recognized significance against the complex events of a formative period in European history. The successive Temeraires appear more typical of the period than the better-known Victory in a manner which demonstrates the variety of naval operations at this period, extending beyond the famous battles to render the subtitle ‘legend of Trafalgar’ misleading. The conception of the chapters is admirable, each being a self-contained study of its period, within which varied topics are considered.
The author makes much of the study of the material remains of the second Temeraire, offering some curious insights. It will surprise many that the principal three-dimensional evidence for the form of the later ship is a bone prisoner-of-war model of limited veracity. The crew list of the ship at Trafalgar is a fascinating (and thought-provoking) basis for further study.
To discuss three chapters specifically:
The Baltic and Iberian Temeraire (May 1809–August 1811) (pp. 207–29) stresses the significance of naval warfare after Trafalgar, most notably within and around the Baltic as the Napoleonic Continental System aimed to reduce British naval capability by restricting the supply of shipbuilding materials. Secondrates were particularly valuable on account of their relatively shallow draught, and the active service of the Temeraire is described on the basis of the diary account of marine Thomas Rees, the descriptions of the capture of a shore foraging party from the Ardent and the subsequent attack by light gunboats being revealing.
The Retired Temeraire (December 1811–August 1838) (pp. 233–57) starts with the ship stricken with yellow fever, and continues with her return to England and decommissioning, only 14 years after construction. Contemporary developments in ship construction are described, and the extended description of life in a prison ship is instructive. Then follows consideration of the development of the Nelsonian legend, supported by King George IV and centred on the construction of Trafalgar Square and the paintings of J. M. W. Turner (of Trafalgar) and Edward Cooke (of Temeraire). The chapter ends with the sale of the Temeraire and her towage to Rotherhithe for scrapping.
The Fighting Temeraire (August 1838–August 2009) (pp. 261–81) describes the popular preoccupation with the ship at the time of the development of the world of fine art. Turner's iconic painting is discussed in detail, with consideration of the artistic licence employed and against the background of contemporary attitudes to the sea, to maritime heritage, and to romantic art. The chapter ends with a summary of the few physical remains of the vessel that are known to survive.
By contrast, The Admiral Benbow is a far more ‘difficult’ study, by virtue of its setting within the fearsome complexities of a period with which many readers will be unfamiliar and within which both the constitutional monarchy and the maritime empire were becoming established as fundamentals of subsequent British development. In consequence, the distinctive characteristics of the naval service and its direction that were becoming consolidated on their Pepysian basis. Any comment on this complex work, therefore, must be personally subjective and highly selective.
The first two chapters describe Benbow's entry into naval service against the confused and confusing background of the Civil War and the Restoration period, which is clearly explained. His father was a Parliamentary soldier who changed allegiance to the Royalist cause, was captured by Parliamentary forces, and executed as a traitor. His early training and experience in trading vessels on the River Severn indicates the importance of river transport in some parts of England before the ‘canal age’, and will be a revelation to many.
Within the ‘gentleman and players’ structure of the Restoration navy, Benbow was of the latter school, although he came to adopt the style of the former. By contrast with those typical of officers of the classic period and later, his career appears disjointed and varied. His rise (in 1689) from third lieutenant of a Third Rate to captain of First Rate within five months without participation in any significant operation doubtless owed much to his taking the correct side in the Glorious Revolution of the previous year, but avoiding direct involvement. Benbow's naval service encompasses fleet actions, shore bombardments, convoy escort duties, and the attempted suppression of both Barbary pirates and the French guerre de course. His career as a fighting sailor was broken by a lengthy return to merchant service (between 1683 and 1689) and by administrative appointments (as master attendant) at Chatham Dockyard in 1689 and at Deptford in 1690–6. Later, he served in the administration of Greenwich Hospital and Trinity House, two organizations which were developing in parallel with the navy itself.
Regrettably, Benbow's behaviour and attitudes fell short of the (possibly overromanticized) Nelsonian ideal to such an extent that he would now be considered a war criminal. His delight in the shelling (in 1693, at St Malo) of a convent is only matched by the statement (p. 321) that, in 1686, ‘Benbow [was] possibly attacked by Corsairs and possibly decapitates thirteen corsairs and presents the heads in a sack to Cadiz magistrates.’
The student of warship technology will appreciate both the informative summary of Benbow's Warships (appendix II) and the lengthy discussion of bomb vessels and machine vessels, particularly as used against French (civilian) shore targets. The former represent the transfer to maritime service of a weapon developed in the artillery-based land warfare of the period; the problems inherent in their use are well described (pp. 151–3). Although the concept was eventually to prove successful, the same cannot be said of the machine vessel. These latter (as described, pp. 153–5) were the explosive descendants of the fireship, being essentially ‘the seventeenth-century maritime equivalent of a nail bomb in a truck’; their use was (happily) not repeated.
Appropriately, Benbow ends with the death of its subject from wounds received in a scrappy and disorganized battle against the French Admiral Jean du Casse, but in a manner which is far from the romantic ideal, being the consequence of ill-fitted ships and reluctant subordinates. True to form, the welldocumented court-martial of the latter affords a further body of historical evidence, while the life of Benbow becomes a tradition in itself, in a manner, as is described and exemplified (pp. 313–18 and 349–55).
The third book (The Glorious First of June) considers the major fleet action of 1794 both in detail and in context, to rediscover ‘a naval legend that has been forgotten’ (p. xxxvii). The author successfully illustrates this complex picture by judicious selection from the available primary material, which is prodigious, even by the extraordinary standards of naval history. The extended introduction (pp. xxxiii–xlvi) forms an essay which is valuable in itself.
The author begins by setting the ‘hardestfought battle of the Age of Sail’ against the background of internecine, indiscriminate and uncontained bloodshed on land. He illustrates the different political systems and underlying attitudes within Britain and France in the context of popular attitudes to failing monarchs, and illustrates events which are too often seen in outline through vivid processual detail. The ‘Reign of Terror’ is a case in point: the image of Parisian sewers being choked with the congealed blood of victims of the guillotine (p. xxxix) will live long in the imagination. As is explained early (pp. xxxvii–xxxviii), this was a battle of extreme significance, both in the context of contemporary events and in the development of naval warfare. It sometimes appears to presage the convoy battles of the Second World War. More detail might usefully have been given of Howe's developments in signalling procedures but there is sound coverage of technical developments in gunnery (p. 209) while the table of British powder expenditure (pp. 343–4) illustrates a fundamental aspect of naval warfare which is rarely mentioned.
The British side is notable for its personalities. Pride of place goes to Admiral Howe, whose service to the navy and the crown was equalled by few and surpassed by none across a career of exceptional variety which lasted for 59 years (1740–99). Even the relevant headings in the comprehensive index indicate a character which is simultaneously powerful, prickly and self-contradictory: ‘inability to express himself’ and ‘burns prize ships’ appear incompatible with ‘influence over seamen’ and ‘seamen's friend.’ Few other British naval officers can have challenged a brother captain to a duel following public criticism (John Hervey, in 1782). Even fewer can have declined a marquisate (offered by William Pitt as a politically-determined substitute for the knighthood which might have been expected after the battle). The picture presented is of a man essentially in character with the politicized navy of the previous century; the comparison with Benbow is notable. His return to fleet command at sea (in effect taking demotion from the post of First Lord of the Admiralty) at the age of 67, following a direct order from the king, and while suffering from severe gout is surprising, even by the standards of the time.
The battle was important as the provingground for many who later achieved success. Many of the British officers mentioned are those (too familiar for repetition) who formed the hard core of the navy until 1815. Others are familiar for different reasons. The student of naval surveying will note both Francis Beaufort and Matthew Finders among the midshipmen.
The role, contemporary status and manning of the French navy form a major theme of the book. The graphic description by Kempenfelt (p. 16) of the high standard of French seamanship at the battle of Ushant (1778) disproves any assumption of intrinsic British superiority, while the summary (pp. 17–18) of the financial stringencies and manning limitations affecting the French navy does much to explain its deficiencies and more to give grounds for commendation. Above all, it demonstrates the eternal verity that a fleet of high standard needs continual support from, and must represent, a well-developed industrial, social and political basis.
True to form, the book considers in detail the popular presentation of the battle, its effects and its personalities. It begins with contrasting descriptions of the monuments to captains James Montagu, John Hutt and John Harvey in Westminster Abbey, and to La Bataille Prairial (the French term for the event, using the Republican calendar) in the Panthéon in the Place de la République, Paris. Chapter 4 (‘The First War Artist’) describes the various early attempts to present naval warfare to the public, while the last three chapters describe the aftermath of the battle in both Britain and France. Again, the imagery is succinctly striking: ‘Howe now returned with his prizes and his holds full of enemy prisoners’ (p. 229) is a simple expression of naval reality. The political consequences were, as ever, both more complex and less predictable. In Britain, the royal welcome (by George III, at Portsmouth) forms a magnificent counterpart to the celebration of the success of the all-important grain convoy at Brest. The subsequent protracted and frequently unpleasant controversies in both countries need not detain us; sufficient to say that this was a battle which either side might view with satisfaction.
Enough of the specifics. Taken together, these well-written and attractive books are consistently innovative and informative, offering far more than their size and modest prices (£14.99 apiece in paperback) would suggest and making them equally attractive to the specialist, to the student and to the present-seeker. Above all, their consistent quality demonstrates the potential value of this descriptive and illustrative but essentially selective approach, which might profitably be applied to other periods. The Victorian navy perhaps?
In postscript, it gives great pleasure to congratulate the author on the well-deserved award of the Anderson Medal, in well-justified recognition of an impressive achievement of lasting value. These are books which many will frequently consult and re-read.
http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/00253359.2013.767561
© Robert J. C. Mowat