The Iberian Peninsula, with 3,300 kilometres of coastline, was an ideal theatre to exploit British naval power to maximum effect. It is curious, however, that the role of the Royal Navy in the Peninsular War has been only acknowledged, almost universally, as having provided logistical support and troop mobility. In reality their role was both more widespread and more aggressive in nature: ‘Such naval duties included attacks on French maritime supply routes; the direct supplying and sometime direct supporting of the Spanish guerrillas; the repeated assaulting of French coastal batteries and strongpoints; the vital task of helping to preserve the Spanish and Portuguese fleets; the constant support of coastal fortresses under enemy attack; and the assistance of British land forces in ways beyond the sole provision of food and movement by water.’1 The majority of this more pro-active support was conducted throughout the war on the east coast of Spain yet, because Wellington’s main army never engaged the French in this part of the Iberian theatre, it has at best been written off as a mere sideshow and at worst ignored altogether.
In its foreign and military policy towards the Mediterranean, the British had vacillated during the latter part of the 18th Century and up to the Peace of Amiens in 1802. When Spain declared war on England in 1796 Pitt decided to evacuate Corsica and withdraw the fleet from the area. This latter decision was not well received in naval circles. Commander of the Mediterranean Fleet, Admiral John Jervis, had honed his force to a high level of efficiency: ‘They at home’, wrote Nelson to his wife, ‘… do not know what this fleet is capable of performing; anything and everything … I lament our present orders in sackcloth and ashes, so dishonourable to the dignity of England, whose fleets are equal to meet the world in arms.’2 Significant naval victories at Cape Saint Vincent in 1797, earning Jervis his title of Earl St. Vincent, and by Nelson at Abukir Bay in 1798, undeniably reinforced Nelson’s assertion. These victories, coupled with the French capture of Malta and intrigues at Naples and Sicily, reinvigorated British interest in the Mediterranean area. In November 1798 Port Mahon was captured and the Spanish force driven from the island of Minorca.
Any optimism, however, was to be short lived. Bonaparte had been declared First Consul of France on Christmas Day 1799 amidst proposals of peace. The Cabinet was divided. Military proposals to use the troops extracted from the failed expedition to the Helder, in conjunction with the garrison at Minorca, in order to strike at the underbelly of the struggling French on the coast between Toulon and Genoa were submitted by the War Office. Alas it was not to be and General Charles Stuart resigned, to be succeeded in the Mediterranean command by General Ralph Abercromby: ‘The instructions given to the old man by the Cabinet mark the nadir in British strategy. With a force of 12,000 he was to reinforce the besiegers of Malta, provide 4,000 for the defence of Minorca, assist the Austrian armies in Italy, co-operate with any rising in the south of France, protect Naples and Portugal and, if possible, attack Tenerife.’3 Before he had arrived in theatre Bonaparte had relieved General André Masséna at Genoa and defeated the Austrians at Marengo. It was a lost opportunity: Bonaparte’s humiliations in Egypt and Syria had, at a stroke, been eradicated.
Worse was still to come. The abortive attempt in July 1800 to capture the Spanish naval base at El Ferrol, in Galicia, was eclipsed a month later by the failed attempt to capture Cádiz. This prompted Lord Cornwallis (the Master General of the Ordnance) to write: ‘What a disgraceful and what an expensive campaign we have made! Twentytwo thousand men, a large proportion not soldiers, floating about the greater part of Europe, the scorn and laughing stock of friends and foes!’4 The following year the tide turned once again: in March Abercromby defeated the French at Alexandria providing a long-overdue victory for the British Army and, a month later, Nelson’s shattering blow at Copenhagen dealt a severe blow to Bonaparte’s ambition to rebuild his navy. Bonaparte sued for peace and the preliminaries for the Treaty of Amiens were negotiated in late 1801 and ratified in March the following year.5 In effect the treaty confirmed Britain’s hold on India and maritime supremacy and French domination in Europe.6
From the Treaty of Amiens to the start to the Peninsular War, or more precisely until the Treaty of Tilsit in July 1807, Britain’s policy in the Mediterranean continued to waver in much the same way as it had done in the preceding years. Within months of Amiens, Bonaparte’s duplicity manifested itself: he refused to withdraw his troops from Holland, secured the canton of Valais from Switzerland (and with it the control of the Great St. Bernard and Simplon passes), annexed Piedmont and, slightly later, added the Grand Duchy of Parma. When his plans for domination of the Americas backfired in Haiti he turned his attention to the destruction of Britain’s interests in India and the East Indies; central to this was the need to recapture Malta as a vital staging point. Under the terms of Amiens, Britain was required to restore Malta and Egypt to their former owners. Whitehall deliberately dragged its heels and, by early 1803, the issue had become the precursor for war. By May, with the question of Malta still unresolved and with evidence of Bonaparte’s planned invasion across the channel, Britain declared war.
Bonaparte had been caught; he had needed more time. His navy was spread far and wide and plans to rejuvenate and re-energise the service were still far from complete. The Royal Navy on the other hand, consisting of 32 ships of the line and 217 smaller ships in commission, manned by over 50,000 seamen and marines, acted with devastating speed and regained many of the colonies surrendered as part of the peace terms.7 In spite of this, the threat of invasion was all-consuming. Britain’s south coast, opposite France, was difficult to attack and the sea was deep enough to enable cruisers to sail more easily within its protection. In contrast, the coast on the east of the country was flat and the strength and direction of the winds complicated naval defence. Furthermore, it was the gateway to the Thames estuary and the nation’s commercial artery. Opposite this area were the Low Countries and the estuaries of the Scheldt, Mass [Meuse] and Rhine which provided ideal sheltering points for an invasion fleet. Britain’s strategic priorities were inevitably focussed on this area but the Mediterranean and the Baltic were not neglected.
In August 1805, amidst continued French aggression from the by now Emperor Napoleon, the Third Coalition was formed between Britain, Austria, Russia and Sweden and with tacit support from Prussia. The following month Admiral Nelson reassumed command of the Mediterranean Fleet and, that October, fought and won a great triumph off Cape Trafalgar. Trafalgar not only stripped Napoleon of his maritime capability but also shattered his obsession with invading Britain. Unable to bring Britain to her knees militarily, he elected to do so through economic warfare and duly instigated the Continental System. He then turned his full attention to the continental war, by mid-1807, following devastating defeats of the Austrian, Russians and Prussians at Ulm, Austerlitz, Jena, Auerstadt and Friedland, Napoleon was at the zenith of his power. His attention now turned towards maritime matters and his southern neighbours. His attempt to secure the Danish fleet was foreseen and thwarted, while his plan to secure Portuguese ships in the Tagus was ambitious in the extreme. The Portuguese navy, carrying and escorting the Portuguese Court, departed on 29 November the day prior to the arrival of the French invasion force under General Junot. Both attempts to bolster his depleted navy had failed but, for now, Napoleon saw other opportunities in Iberia.
At the outbreak of the Peninsular War, and in line with the change in the status of Spain, the Admiralty allocated the task to three naval commands. The north coast of Spain and the Bay of Biscay was the responsibility of the Channel Fleet; the Portuguese station, which was initially exclusive to Gibraltar and Cádiz; and the Mediterranean Fleet that stretched from Cape Saint Vincent eastwards.8 Royal Navy support of the land operations on and near the east coast of Spain during the war can be broken down into three distinct phases: firstly, 1808 and 1809, sporadic support to the Spanish struggle in Catalonia; secondly, 1810 to 1812, in support of the Spanish regular and irregular forces against the French invasion of Valencia; and thirdly, 1812 to 1814, in direct support of the Anglo-Sicilian amphibious force and the Spanish forces in the latter stages of the war. As early as 25 May 1808 the Secretary for War had sent despatches to Admiral Collingwood (Mediterranean Fleet), to Admiral Cotton (Portuguese Station) and to Rear Admiral Purvis (commanding the squadron off Cádiz) that henceforth Spain was to be regarded as an ally and that every assistance was to be provided to them.9 However, principal government concerns centred on the future security of Cádiz. In conjunction with Cotton and Purvis, General Sir Hew Dalrymple, Governor General at Gibraltar, began to muster and move troops for possible operations in the area. Collingwood, however, looked for other locations to support the Spanish. The Catalan coastline provided just such an opportunity.
After Trafalgar the Mediterranean Fleet was actively involved in protecting convoys and allied ports such as Palermo, Valetta, Cartagena (after May 1808) and Port Mahon but its main task was undoubtedly the blockade of the French Fleet at Toulon.10 Blockading a port in the age of sail was not as straightforward as it may appear. During bad weather, well-armed supply ships and French convoys supported by large warships did occasionally evade the blockading squadrons or the screen of frigates acting as observation pickets.11 These occasional breakouts provide a welcome role for the Royal Navy frigates which hunted the running convoys down with ruthless efficiency. The area off the Catalonia coast provided a particularly fertile hunting ground. Collingwood used some of his best frigate captains, including George Mundy, Thomas Cochrane and William Hoste, to manage the area along the Catalan coast.
In 1808 Duhesme, the beleaguered French commander at Barcelona, was ordered by Napoleonic decree to support the French forces to the west at Saragossa as well as those to the south at Valencia and, most specifically, to keep open the lines of communication with France while regaining control of Catalonia. The port of Rosas was vital to French plans. It was also well known to the Royal Navy and had been their preferred rendezvous point in this part of the Mediterranean for years and a major resupply point for the fleet since 1800.12 Indeed, Collingwood had long since appreciated the importance of Rosas and had ensured a permanent presence there, despite misgivings from the Admiralty who preferred Port Mahon (the base of the Mediterranean Fleet) or Valetta. In early July Duhesme despatched Reille to capture the large fortress at Figueras. He achieved this by 6 July and then, with 1,500 men, moved towards his second objective, the citadel at Rosas defended by no more than 400 miqueletes and a battery of guns. Following the engagement Hoste had withdrawn with HMS Amphion to Malta to effect repairs and had been replaced on station by Captain Robert Otway in the 74-gun Montagu. Otway was near the Medas Islands in July when he received news of French intentions: he sailed north to Rosas where he joined the rest of his squadron and at 6 pm ordered his Royal Marines into the ship’s boats to bolster the Spanish defenders in both the citadel and fort. This was enough to convince Reille to give up the siege and return to Figueras. Needless to state Napoleon was furious at this timidity but realized that more troops were required to secure Catalonia and capture the key locations of Gerona and Rosas. In October the newly raised VII Corps, consisting of 24,000 men under the command of General Saint-Cyr, arrived at Perpignan. His first mission was to capture Rosas and Reille was given an opportunity to redeem himself.
On 6 November, the Royal Navy’s 74-gun ship Excellent (Captain John West) and bomb ship Meteor (Commander James Collins) engaged the French as they took up their positions to the north and east of the town. At the request of General O’Daly, the Spanish commander, West bolstered the defence by landing all his marines and 50 sailors under the command of Marine Captain John Nicolson. These proved their worth the next day when West led a sortie to relieve a party of Spaniards who had sallied from the fortress and become surrounded and he had the somewhat novel experience for a naval officer of having a horse shot from under him during the brief fighting that followed.13 Sometime later West also detached another 26 marines under the command of Marine Lieutenant Thomas How to assist the Spanish defenders at Fort Trinity. How’s actions received mention in the Spanish commander’s report at the end of the siege.14 French preparations did not start well, due in the main to the heavy autumnal rains which flooded and collapsed their trenches and parallels. However, in mid-November their siege guns arrived and they were soon in action against the citadel and fort from the heights of Puig Rom, which dominate both structures and the bay. It was only a matter of time before the French had their prize.
On 20 November Captain Richard Bennett and his 74-gun Fane had arrived on station to relieve the Excellent, which was running low on stores and ammunition. The pessimistic Bennett expressed right away the hopelessness of the situation and cast lengthy aspersions about the Spanish defenders. However, two days later the far more enterprising Captain Thomas Cochrane also arrived with the 38-gun frigate Imperieuse. He wasted no time in concluding that Fort Trinity provided numerous opportunities to thwart the French:
On the 24th November, a boatload of over 100 men led by Cochrane himself landed to reinforce the defenders of Roses [Rosas]. And while the heavy guns of the Imperieuse and the bomb vessels began to silence the more exposed of the French batteries, Cochrane threw all his ingenuity into converting what was left of the castle into a vast mantrap ... but Cochrane could only delay the inexorable French assault. A week later it came. Covered by precise gunfire, which even Cochrane had to admire, a thick column of enemy infantry curled its way steadily down the valley and hurled itself into the breach. The defences held out, and the attack was repelled with heavy loss.15
The French now concentrated their efforts on the citadel and by early December it was all over. Cochrane and the British marines escaped from the Trinity Fort and blew the magazine with a slow burning fuse whilst O’Daly and his 2,500 defenders were captured and sent to France.
Collingwood maintained the blockade and commensurate pressure on the French in the region throughout 1809. Captain George Mundy headed the force in the 38-gun frigate Hydra and was supported, in general, by another similar-sized frigate, two or three sloops and, occasionally, by a Spanish vessel. This marked the start of allied naval cooperation on the east coast which was to blossom over the coming years. Mundy’s main aim was to prevent the French revitalising the French garrison at Barcelona which, by the spring of 1809, was suffering badly through want of provisions. However, Mundy’s small force could do nothing on when, on the afternoon of 26 April, a large French force, consisting of five ships of the line, two frigates and a corvette escorting a convoy of 16 merchant vessels appeared just north of the city. They had audaciously evaded the blockade at Toulon and brought vital supplies to the beleaguered French garrison. Mundy beat a hasty retreat and the French stayed long enough to empty their vital cargo before heading back to Toulon. Collingwood’s frigate captains had been caught napping and it would be many months before the effects of the blockade were once again to be felt within the city walls.
Collingwood was, however, to get his revenge in October 1809 when the French supply situation at Barcelona once again worsened. In order to entice the French into action, he left two frigates to observe Toulon and moved a large part of the fleet (15 sail of the line and three frigates and a sloop) to an intercept position between Cape Saint Sebastian, on the Spanish mainland, across to Minorca. On 21 October the two British 38-gun frigates (Pomone and Alceste) at Toulon reported activity and made sail south-west to join the bulk of the fleet.16 At 10 am on 23 October the French force was sighted and confirmed as consisting of three ships of the line (Robuste, Borée and Lion), two 40-gun frigates (Pauline and Pomone) and a large number of armed store-ships and transports. Rear Admiral George Martin in the 80-gun Canopus gave immediate chase supported by five other 74-gun sail of the line.17 ‘At 3 pm the three French line-of-battle ships and two frigates separated from the convoy, the latter steering north-north-west, in great confusion, and the former east-south-east, with the wind at north-east. The (British) Pomone, being well to windward, got hold of part of the convoy, two brigs, two bombards, and a ketch, and, that evening, destroyed them. But the remainder of the convoy and the five men-of-war were shortly after lost sight of by the British fleet.’18 Admiral Martin continued to chase the French battleships and caught them the next morning, forcing Rear Admiral François-André Baudin, the French commander, to scuttle and set fire to the Robuste and Lion while driving the Borée and Pauline into unsafe anchorage. The balance of the French convoy sought shelter at Rosas and the subsequent battle to destroy them was a hard fight but, by daylight on 1 November, seven of the ships had been burned at their moorings and four captured. It was a fitting revenge for Collingwood and a severe blow to the French garrison at Barcelona. However, it by no means eradicated the threat. Throughout the war the French sought to make their coastal movements more secure by a number of safe anchorages along the coast which were protected by shore batteries. In addition, a number of telegraph posts were also established to provide early warning of allied shipping. The days when a single warship with a daring commander could cause mayhem along the coast had gone.19
In early 1810, following the unexpected death of Collingwood, Vice Admiral Sir Charles Cotton was named as his replacement. The Admiralty were quick to point out to Cotton the importance of maintaining high-tempo operations off the coasts of Catalonia and Valencia and urged him to try to prevent communications with Frenchcontrolled ports, to harass the French as much as possible and to give the Spanish – particularly at Tarragona – all possible assistance.20 A squadron of three French frigates had managed to escort a grain convoy to the Catalan capital in January 1811 but the merchant vessels were all captured on the return voyage. Consequently, overland convoys were attempted in June, July and August and virtually all of Macdonald’s available troop resources were committed to escorting these convoys. Macdonald’s failure to adequately support Suchet’s capture of the key fort of Tortosa in January 1811 led to Napoleon’s decree of 10 March 1811. The emperor, keen to reinforce Suchet’s early success, stripped Macdonald of the provinces of Lérida, Tarragona and Tortosa and handed these, along with 18,000 men from the VII Corps, to Suchet’s Army of Aragón (see Chapter 3).
The French policy of safe anchorages protected by shore batteries was beginning to pay off and it was becoming increasingly clear to both the Admiralty and to the staff at headquarters Mediterranean Fleet, that attacking convoys was becoming an ever more dangerous task. Engaging them in the open sea was difficult as they only operated with favourable sea and wind conditions, hugging the coast from one harbour to the next. Attacking them in or near their safe anchorages ran the added risk of heavy and accurate fire from the land-based batteries. Finally, trying to execute such operations in conjunction with the Spanish regular or irregular forces was too difficult to coordinate in both time and space. In December 1810 the decision to land marines and seaman at Palamos (midway between Barcelona and Rosas) to execute a preliminary operation on the French coastal batteries ended in disaster with 33 men killed, 89 wounded and 87 captured including the force commander, Captain Francis Fane. As the war progressed the French were able to resupply Barcelona with increasing ease, not only by sea and land, but also through illicit trade with the Spanish themselves who were happy to break the blockade for personal financial gain. The level of Spanish cooperation with the French increased dramatically after June 1811 when Suchet captured the vital port and city of Tarragona.
To be fair to Cotton, he had strengthened the size of the force off the Catalan coast in the first half of 1811, placing the squadron of seven ships under the command of Captain Edward Codrington.21 Codrington made every effort to assist the Spanish in their operations to hold the large inland border fort at Figueras, which they had captured by coup de main in April 1811. He destroyed a number of the French coastal batteries, made a series of landings at Cadagues and Rosas to distract the French but most significantly he transported many thousands of Spanish reinforcements into Tarragona during the siege, and was personally engaged in directing counter-battery fire against the French siege works and siege batteries. The siege of Tarragona is perhaps the best example of the both the value and limitations of sea power in the conflict. Unlike Cádiz, Tarragona is not situated on an island where naval power could keep the besiegers at a distance. Tarragona’s fall was a disaster for the allies as it was the last major secure Catalan harbour. Macdonald was now able to consolidate his position in northern Catalonia while Suchet commenced planning for the next phase of Napoleon’s plan: the invasion of the region of Valencia and the capture of the key ports of Valencia and Alicante.
In the meantime, the Mediterranean Fleet had a new commander. Vice Admiral Edward Pellew was an ambitious but capable naval commander; his new command, which was his last and most cherished, consisted of 25 ships of the line and 20 frigates. In reality the opening few months of his new appointment provided little by way of opportunity or optimism. As he arrived at Port Mahon aboard his flagship, the mighty 120-gun Caledonia, he soon received news that the French had captured Tarragona and a few weeks later communiqués were received reporting that the French had also recaptured Figueras. There was a brief excuse for merriment in September when Codrington recaptured the Medas Islands but otherwise the outlook was bleak. Suchet commenced the invasion of Valencia in September and, other than some harassing fire on Suchet’s siege train, which had by necessity to take the more exposed coastal road south, there was little Pellew or Codrington could do to stop the advance. Captain George Eyre was able to provide assistance in evacuating the small Spanish garrison from the King’s Tower at Oropesa and a naval presence offshore, north of Valencia, did force Suchet’s forces inland in October during the major battle at Sagunto, but, by the end of December, Suchet had surrounded Valencia and it was not long before the city fell. The next major seaport on the east coast was now in French hands.
Pellew was well aware that the French Navy was desirous, almost committed, to avoiding battle. Any laurels from commanding in the Mediterranean would be earned by working with the land forces and he informed his admirals that ‘it is my ardent desire to be well with the Army and its generals’.22 Sharing his quarters in the gallery of the Caledonia on his journey to Minorca in June had been Lord William Bentinck. An old friend, Bentinck was bound for Sicily to assume command of the Anglo-Sicilian force and within months the significance of this friendship and Pellew’s ‘ardent desire’ were to become one. Pellew’s well-argued lobbying of ministers for ‘British soldiers off Catalonia, rendered mobile by troopships’ was influential in promoting the Cabinet’s directive to Bentinck. Pellew instructed Rear Admiral Hallowell to conduct a reconnaissance of suitable landing sites along the coasts of Catalonia and Valencia. He concluded that two sites were suitable: Palamos and Blanes, indicating a preference for the latter. Designed to coincide with a number of other preliminary operations in support of Wellington’s 1812 campaign, the east coast expeditionary force, when it finally sailed, was, as we have seen, a disappointment. Nevertheless, the Royal Navy had brought the Anglo-Sicilian force to the east coast and was now to play a major role in maintaining it and facilitating plans for future operations. The 65 naval transports, which had moved the force, were to remain with it thereby providing operational mobility and the means to disrupt and harass Suchet’s forces at will. Although little of significance occurred in the last few months of 1812, Barcelona continued to be blockaded and in August 1812 two gunships (Fame and Termagant) sailed up the coast with the 18-gun sloop Philomel and destroyed the evacuated French coastal batteries and strong points at Villajoyosa, Benidorm, Altea and Calpe. Later the Fame engaged French forces at Denia and anchored at Jávea Bay, providing support to the locals there before being driven back on board by General Pierre Habert’s infantry, leaving the Spaniards to face the inevitable French reprisals. In October, the Fame returned to Denia with the 18-gun sloop Cephalus and 600 troops in an attempt to take the fort by surprise assault. They failed, but the Minstrel at least succeeded in September in capturing four French vessels moving ammunition to Peñiscola.
At the end of May, as Wellington’s army began its easterly advance towards the amalgamated three French armies under King Joseph, 16,000 of Murray’s men embarked on the transports destined for Tarragona. The city, in French hands since Suchet’s capture in 1811, was an ideal target. It satisfied two of Wellington’s three memorandum objectives: it was in Suchet’s rear; it provided long-awaited and indispensable cooperation with the regular and irregular Catalan forces; it provided a significant distraction in support of Wellington’s advance east against the main French forces in the north-centre of Spain; and it provided a perfectly achievable but significant prize to assist future land and sea operations. Alas, as we have seen, Tarragona’s capture was not to be. Murray’s force, with favourable winds, was landed on 2 June and the troops disembarked the next day. Hallowell directed three bomb ships and two gunboats into Tarragona’s roadstead to bombard the small French garrison while Pellew, with the main body of the fleet, provided a tangible demonstration off the north Catalan coast to discourage the French moving in support. This force concentrated its efforts at Rosas between 9 and 15 June and undeniably caused Decaen considerable problems as his force marched south towards Tarragona and Suchet.23 Naval support was also requested for the attack on the small fort at the Col-de-Balaguer. In fact, the capture of this fort was the only good news of the whole sorry campaign.
In the interim, Bentinck had sailed from Sicily and was with Pellew off the coast at Rosas when the extraordinary news was received. The two officers made best speed south and Bentinck relieved Murray of command but elected not to reverse his decision to pull out. Bentinck’s arrival did little to change the military dynamism on the east coast. Until the end of the war, following Napoleon’s abdication in April 1814, the naval duties off the Catalan coast continued to be a routine of convoy protection and the blockade of Barcelona. Pellew’s zeal did not wane and he now refocused his attention on Toulon. Captain Walter Bathurst (HMS Fane) returned to command the naval squadron off the Spanish coast in early 1814 and enjoyed some low level successes. The frigate Castor seized a French privateer in January and a transport off Mataro in the same month, while the brig Badger captured the French ship L’Adventure (two guns and 28 men). Notwithstanding these minor prizes, the Peninsular War in this theatre of operations ended in a disappointing manner.
The finale to Royal Navy operations on the east of Spain during the war in the peninsula was somewhat disappointing. There was no Trafalgar to bring down the final curtain, but then, equally, neither was there a coup de théâtre to the land operations on mainland Spain or in southern France. There is little doubt that the prestige and standing of the Royal Navy was not as high in 1814 and 1815 as it had been in the period up to the battle of Trafalgar. In the intervening years it had played a supporting role which had brought it little glory. However, to write off that supporting contribution as inconsequential is to misunderstand the vital nature of that support, particularly to the war in Iberia and above all on the east coast of Spain.