I
“Detruisons cette escadre.”
The date was December 18, 1778; the scene the island of Saint Lucia, one of the Windward Islands lying between Martinique and Saint Vincent. The British fleet under command of Admiral Barrington was attempting to capture the island, at that time in the possession of the French. Admiral d’Estaing, after the severe buffeting his fleet had suffered in a hurricane off Newport, Rhode Island, had decided to seek a gentler clime. He therefore sailed for the West Indies after refitting in Boston. On reaching these islands he saw an opportunity of being of service to his country by relieving Saint Lucia. Before the Grand Cul-de-Sac be discovered the British vessels at anchor. D’Estaing, however, was essentially a soldier, not a sailor. His early training had been in the infantry. To him a fleet at anchor seemed invincible when supported by land batteries. The fact that he mounted 846 guns against 422 of Barrington mattered not. He accordingly landed as many men as he could muster and engaged in a land engagement in which he was decidedly worsted and compelled to re-embark his troops.
The mentality responsible for such obvious strategical errors is difficult to fathom. The explanation is probably to be found in the fact that the state of French finances rendered economy in naval expenditures unavoidable. “One is little tempted,” said Vergennes, “to renew naval combats which, even when successful, leave us often only losses to regret and damages to repair.” In other words, France could not afford naval warfare even when victorious. That D’Estaing shared his chief’s views is certain. “Much more noise than effect is but too often the net result of naval combat.” Fleet action could hardly be expected from a commander holding such opinions. One of his subordinates, however, was to call his attention to the incongruity of his procedure at Saint Lucia in no uncertain terms.
I am taking the liberty of sending you a memoire on our situation. Much as I am reluctant to offer advice to a general officer, I deem it, nevertheless, the duty of a good citizen to express any opinion which he thinks useful for the good of the state, especially to a general who has shown confidence in me and in whose glory I am interested. In spite of the lack of results from our fire on December 15th and the unfortunate repulse of our troops we can still hope for success. The only way, however, to obtain it is to attack vigorously the squadron which in view of our superiority cannot hold out and will be powerless, in spite of the land fortifications, if we lay alongside or anchor close aboard. If we delay, a thousand circumstances may save our enemies. They can avail themselves of the night to slip away. Let us destroy that squadron. The land forces, lacking everything in an unfavorable country, will be compelled to surrender. After that, let Byron come, he will be doing us a favor.
The officer who had thus thrown to the winds etiquette, discipline, and rank in his zeal to see the enemy destroyed, who had risked official displeasure in the hopes of seeing victory achieved, was Pierre Andre de Suffren Saint Tropez.
The reception accorded to Suffren’s indignant protest is best told by his letter to his cousin, Madame d’Ales:
Our campaign has been a succession of vicissitudes, of good and bad luck, to an unprecedented degree. It is impossible to imagine the stupid maneuvers that have been indulged in, the senseless and perfidious advice that has been given. In short, ma chere amie, I am in disfavor since I recommended attacking seven small vessels with our twelve large ships, all because the enemy was protected by some land batteries. I am thoroughly disgusted with the whole business and greatly regret not having gone to Malta.
Malta, the busy arsenal of Valetta, the swift galleys of the Church Militant, he seems to regret them more that he does his chere amie! Perhaps the fires of youth are burning low, now that he is in his fiftieth year. One yearning usually associated with youth, however, was to dominate his life to the end. “La gloire, cette fumee pour laquelle on fait tant de chosesl”
One of nine children, the future admiral and bailli saw the light of day at Saint- Cannat, near Aix, on July 17, 1729. Space does not permit a recital of his claims to genealogical eminence. Although of a fairly wealthy family, as a younger son he had his own way to make. The Navy was a favorite career for young Provencal noblemen, partly due to the fact that the Parliament of Aix had been the first to urge upon Louis XIII the necessity for a permanent navy to keep the Spaniards and the
Barbary corsairs in check. After successfully passing entrance examinations more heraldic than scientific, our hero at the tender age of thirteen found himself duly enrolled in the Gardes de la Marine. His thoughtful father had already taken steps to insure his admission to that approved school of naval science, the Knights of Malta.
It was on board the Solide on February 22, 1744, that Suffren received his baptism of fire. The Battle of Toulon was a frightful, bloody fight in which 42 ships commanded by Admiral Mathews failed to destroy a Franco-Spanish fleet of 28 sail under Court la Bruyere. Although a novice and probably impressed by the gruesome spectacle he was witnessing for the first time, Suffren, with the innate sense of a great tactician, was quick to perceive the opportunities both sides had lost by a rigid adherence to the classic line of battle. Twenty courts-martial and a parliamentary inquiry resulted in England and Mathews was dismissed from the service. “Laurels do not grow on dung- heaps,” was young Suffren’s comment on his superiors in a letter to his father. His next battle ended in disaster. L’Etanduere had been ordered to Canada with a convoy. On October 25,1747, off Cape Finisterre, he ran into Hawke. Like Suffren, Hawke had been a witness of the British fiasco at Toulon. Without a minute’s hesitation he divided his fleet and took the unfortunate French admiral between two fires. L’Etanduere, hopelessly outnumbered, grimly held on, thereby allowing his convoy to escape. The British ultimately rounded up most of the ships. Suffren’s vessel, the Monarque, was among those captured. The peace of Aix-la-Chapelle released Suffren from captivity. On his return to France he found his commission of ensign awaiting him. It had been a hard tour of duty but it had taught him a lesson he was never to forget. Maneuvering cannot take the place of action. , And now we come to a strange interlude ln Suffren’s life. He visited Malta to make the three required “caravans,” or expeditions against the infidels. The “Chevalier de Minorite” was on the road that was to lead him to the dignity of bailli.
II
The Knights of Malta were certainly a curious survival of the Crusades. Expelled by the Saracens from Jerusalem and Saint Jean d’Acre, then from Rhodes, the Knights Hospitallers of Saint John of Jerusalem, to give them their official title, settled in Malta inl530 and were confirmed m their possession of the island by the Emperor Charles V. There they remained until Napoleon relegated them to their Peaceful priory on the Aventine Hill. The organization which had governed the order at Rhodes was transplanted to Malta, slightly relaxed, however, as regards discipline. Grouped according to “tongues,” among which were to be found such strange ones as Auvergne, Provenge, and Aragon, each langue centered about its auberge, or chapter house. The fees a candidate for admission had to pay were so high that none but the sons of wealthy families could aspire to the honor. It was much like purchasing a commission in a ‘crack” guard regiment, with this difference, however, that the Knights during the period we are discussing spent their time at fighting the infidel, not at baccarat. That fathers who sent their sons to this “smart” school made a good investment can be inferred from the fact that in 1790 sixty-five French naval officers were members of the order, including one vice admiral, four chefs d’escadre, and six captains. If the candidate survived, his chances for promotion in his own navy were good.
The navy of the order was nothing if not picturesque, baroque we might almost say. Its phraseology was a weird mixture of Arabic, Provencal, and Spanish. Not a spar, rope or sail, not a rank or rating is recognizable. Even the points of the compass bore outlandish names. The only terms the modernist will welcome are dextre and senestre for starboard and port. The galleys and galleons of the “Religiosi” or “the Religion,” as the Knights were commonly called in the Mediterranean, were as fantastic as the language used on board their decks. Although equipped with lateen sails, these craft made frequent use of oar power, especially when giving chase or on going into action. The horror of the life of the chiourme defies description. Chained to a bench, compelled to hold a piece of cork between their teeth during combat in order to stifle their cries of terror or of pain, day after day, year after year, they plied their heavy oars. And yet, incredible as it may seem, some wretches were found to enlist voluntarily. Voluntarily? Not quite. When the courts had failed to turn out the desired number of convicts, when the supply of discharged soldiers driven to vagabondage ran low, when Turks, Arabs, and heretics grew scarce, when no more able-bodied men could be found in the madhouses, the rulers of Genoa and the Two Sicilies frequently sent agents to the gambling houses to lend money to the players. When the debts could not be repaid, the unfortunate gamblers were allowed to work off the sum owed by joining the galleys as bounevoglione. Perhaps there is something to be said for the press gang after all!
What a strange background for the sailor who was to fight for independence in America and for freedom in India! After two years Suffren returned to France. The Seven Years’ War was on, full blast. Assigned to the Orphee, he took part in the Duke of Richelieu’s expedition to Minorca and La Galissonniere’s victory over Byng off Port Mahon on May 20, 1756. At last a victory, a triumphant return to Toulon! Promoted to lieutenant and assigned to the Ocean, he again tasted the bitterness of defeat and captivity. La Clue’s squadron, while seeking to slip through the Straits of Gibraltar unobserved, was driven into Lagos by Boscawen and destroyed on August 19, 1759, the Portuguese making no attempt to enforce neutrality. After two years of captivity in England Suffren was released. Disgusted by the sentimental pacifism he found among the “philosophic” intelligentsia of France, to whom the loss of Canada meant nothing, he once more went to Malta. A period of relative quiet now settled upon him during which he divided his time between his order and the royal navy. It was the lull before the storm. Louis XVI, having decided to come to the aid of the Thirteen Colonies, was soon to dispatch D’Estaing with a fleet of 12 ships of the line and 5 frigates to American waters. Suffren, now a captain and in command of the Fantasque, 64, participated in this campaign. His short but brilliant services in the operations around Newport, Rhode Island, in August, 1778, deserve careful consideration as they reveal the future hero of Trincomalee.
III
“I took a promenade on Conanicut.” Seldom if ever did a promenade bring more astonishing military results. While D’Estaing was preparing to steal a march on Howe by capturing Newport, Suffren with the Fantasque and the Sagittaire, 50, the latter commanded by his friend and disciple Albert de Rions, was assigned the task of watching the passage between the western shore of Conanicut and the mainland, a stretch of water familiar to all who have occasion to use the Saunderstown ferry. His orders were vague but Suffren soon interpreted them as sufficient authority for a daring and successful exhibition of initiative, the circumnavigating of Conanicut Island. He began by dragging his corpulent and ponderous person across that island, in spite of the heat and the underbrush. What he beheld near the site of Jamestown we shall let him relate.
In order to reconnoiter the situation at Newport [he reported to D’Estaing], I took a promenade on Conanicut. I noticed that the British had sunk six vessels so as to form a stockade between Goat Island [the present Torpedo Station] and the mainland to the north [probably Battery Park]. I observed three frigates and one large transport. I also discovered one frigate with lowered sails drifting before the wind. She anchored to the north of the island where there was another frigate. If you think well of it 1 could, after consulting the pilots concerning depth of water, try to attack them.
His letter remained unanswered. On August 5 D’Estaing made ready to land troops and attack the British works defending Newport. Suffren, who was not the man to stand by idly while others were fighting, decided that his orders required him somehow to join in the offensive. We shall again let him tell his own story.
In pursuance of your orders [?] I weighed anchor with the Sagittaire at daybreak. I spied across Conanicut two British frigates under sail. When I appeared between this island and Prudence one of them came toward me on the opposite tack, then soon came about. The Sagittaire went to windward. I had all sails set when the frigate, which could not escape us, ran herself hard aground, cut her masts and burst into flames. Three vessels in a cove which I pointed out to you in one of my letters were also set on fire by their crews. The other frigates which were under sail in the passage between Rhode Island and Prudence, together with a brig, were likewise burned. I saw considerable smoke over the town which leads me to believe that some other ships were set on fire in the port. I made two tacks in the roads of Newport to take soundings and to convince myself that the ships had really been destroyed and to enable my crew to enjoy the spectacle which would have been far more pleasing had we run any danger.
Comments are superfluous but we may marvel at the irony of the event. Suffren, the Apostle of Action, destroying a small-sized fleet by a maneuver and without firing a shot! His success, however, was sterile. The arrival of Howe rendered land operations impossible. Just as D’Estaing was about to engage Howe a storm scattered both fleets. The French fleet rallied ln Boston and after recuperating left for the Antilles, as we have seen. We have noted what happened at Saint Lucia. After distinguishing himself by his bravery and skill at Grenada (July 6, 1779), Suffren saw the chances of a decisive victory ruined by land operations. Instead of Pursuing Byron’s fleet, D’Estaing captured Georgetown. In the meantime the American insurgents were clamoring for help. D’Estaing accordingly sailed north as far as Savannah, which he besieged in Vain, and then departed for Toulon. Sartine recommended Suffren for the rank of chef d’escadre but the King refused the Promotion He did, however, grant him a pension of 1500 livres.
Soon Suffren was sent to sea again on futile cruises in which the enemy was avoided, not sought. Discouraged and disgusted, he began to think that his hour would never come when unknown to him it had struck. D’Estaing, be it said to his credit, never bore Suffren any ill will for having volunteered advice at Saint Lucia. He recommended his subordinate so warmly that Castries, the new Minister °f Marine, called him to Versailles. In a thoughtful letter to Madame d’Ales he breaks the news of his coming departure.
I hardly dare tell you, ma chere amie, something that will cause you sorrow. I am going to India in command of a division of five ships. The Marquis de Castries has given it to me with the best grace in the world and in a most flattering manner. As a matter of fact, there will be eleven ships and the slightest lucky circumstance may put me at the head of a splendid squadron with which I can achieve glory, that smoke for which we do so many things! In Indian waters I shall have the honors and prerogatives of a chef d’escadre. I have just been so informed. It is a secret that I have not even told my parents!
Before sailing he calls to pay his respects to his sovereign. Utterly unknown in court circles, no one pays any attention to him until an usher offers to conduct him to the King. “I thank you, Sir,” says Suffren, “for all the trouble you are taking today but when I return you will see that I shall know how to make way for myself.” That boast Suffren abundantly made good, as we shall see.
IV
Suffren sailed from Brest on March 22, 1781. His squadron consisted of two 74’s, the Eeros, flagship, and the Annibal; three 64’s, the Sphinx, the Vengeur, and the Artesien; one dispatch boat, the Fortune, 18, and 8 transports. His instructions were to make haste as Johnstone’s fleet was bound for the Cape of Good Hope. The Artesien having sprung a leak, Suffren headed for Praya, the harbor of Santiago, one of the Cape Verde Islands, which he reached on April 16. To his great surprise the Artesien, which had been sent ahead, signaled that Johnstone was in the harbor. At last the opportunity he longed for! In spite of the tradition that a fleet at anchor was invincible, Suffren instantly ordered his ships to close with the enemy, anchor at short range, and engage. Disregarding international law, he boldly led the way followed by the Annibal. Poor Suffren! He was to learn that the failings of his superiors were ingrained in his subordinates. The Sphinx and the Vengeur wandered about “like lost souls,” to quote Admiral Castex, and merely exchanged passing broadsides. The Portuguese, who had neglected to enforce neutrality at Lagos, now joined in the fray with the guns of their forts. After an hour the Annibal was dismasted and the Eeros had to take her in tow. Both vessels had suffered severely. The captain of the Eeros, Tremignon, was killed; also Cardillac of the Artesien. Johnstone now sallied forth but on second thought returned to his anchorage, although he outnumbered Suffren. There he remained until May 2. The day after the battle Suffren proceeded to False Bay where he anchored on June 20. Johnstone did not reappear until July 21. Realizing that he was too late, he turned north again. The Dutch colony was saved but Suffren had to wait many anxious months until Castries informed him that his violation of Portuguese neutrality had been justified.
La Praya could and should have immortalized me [he wrote to Madame d’Ales], I have missed, or have been caused to miss, a unique opportunity. With my five ships I could have made peace and a glorious peace. Your friend would have been worthy of you. Europe would have acclaimed him. But not at all; this engagement is one that decides nothing, that is lost in the crowd.
Now the usual troubles with defective material developed. The Fortune was useless. A lack of frigates prevented Suffren from taking merchantmen. To economize 10,000 livres he had been sent out without a forge, an omission that cost him 100,000 livres besides endless delays. After remaining two months at the Cape of Good Hope to recuperate he proceeded to Port Louis in the lie de France, which he reached on October 25. Here he passed under the command of Admiral d’Orves. On December 7, 1781, the joint fleet sailed for Coromandel. It now consisted of 11 ships of the line, 5 frigates, and 10 transports. On the way D’Orves died. The “lucky circumstance” had occurred and Suffren now had his “splendid squadron.” On February 14, 1782, he appeared before Madras where he found the fleet of Sir Edward Hughes, consisting of 11 ships. Surprise being out of the question, Suffren, who now had 12 ships, decided to tempt Hughes by allowing his transports to proceed near shore while he stayed some way out to sea. The ruse was successful. Suffren fell upon the scattered British off Sudras on the 17th. Once again his incompetent and obstinate captains robbed him of victory. His plan of heading off the British van while falling on their rear with three vessels failed. Night brought the engagement to a close, the British retiring to Trincomalee while Suffren continued on to Porto Novo where, on the 25th, he established contact with his Indian allies. In his report he commended Saint-Felix, who commanded the Brilliant, and Cuverville, who commanded the Flamand. The others he laconically described as being “without order and very far off.” The troops were landed on March 10 and by April 4 General du Chemin had captured Cuddalore.
Instead of avoiding combat, Suffren continued to seek it. On April 12, the very day De Grasse, who had sailed in company with him from Brest to Cape Finisterre, surrendered to Rodney at Les Saintes, Suffren met Hughes off Providien. The resulting engagement was a repetition of Sudras. Suffren’s simple plan of having his extra ship, the Bizarre, attack Hughes from the rear miscarried. On the morrow Suffren was still seeking Hughes, who prudently remained at anchor behind a reef. Unable to force his opponent to action, Suffren proceeded to Batticalao which he reached on the 30th. In his report to Castries he said: “Unless five or six captains, that is to say one-half, are not changed nothing will ever be accomplished and perhaps all opportunities will be lost.”
Here Suffren took stock and found that he was in urgent need of supplies and reenforcements. The success at Praya had aroused the interest of the French government and soon Suffren received the welcome news that his needs would soon be supplied. Unfortunately there was a fly in the ointment. He was required to meet Bussy’s expedition at Port Louis. The delight of his captains at the prospect of visiting that beautiful colony where pleasant company and a chance to capture fat prizes awaited them was soon dispelled: Suffren announced that he intended to remain on the Coromandel coast until Bussy arrived. We have seen that at Conanicut he interpreted vague orders according to what he considered the needs of the situation. He now did the same for precise orders. Relying on a general instruction given his predecessor D’Orves to the effect that “at four thousand miles His Majesty deems it imprudent to lay down positive directions,” he concluded that the situation demanded that he remain to support the army and his Indian allies. As much as he had objected to D’Estaing’s ineffectual land ventures, as much did he now co-operate with useful military movements. Suffren’s justification of his decision to remain in India is one of the most remarkable documents in naval history.1
After remaining five weeks at Batticalao, Suffren sailed north and on June 5 arrived at Trinquebar where he was welcomed by the Dutch governor. A few days fater the first of several disagreeable incidents with his captains occurred. The Sphinx and the Artesien were sent out to intercept a British convoy from Madras. Bide de Maurville, who commanded the latter vessel, left the scene of action and as a result only one British ship was captured. Failing to give any satisfactory excuse, he was severely reprimanded by h’s chief. On the 20th Suffren sailed for Cuddalore where he turned over to his native allies 300 prisoners. The British governor, Lord Macartney, having refused an exchange, criticism of Suffren’s action seems without foundation. Taking on board 700 European and 800 sepoy troops, he sailed for Negapatam. His plan was to assist the native forces in capturing that much-needed port. On arriving there on July 5 he found that his opponent had forestalled him. Hughes was in the harbor. The next day the fleets met. Once more Suffren’s captains clung to their line of battle and the affair was indecisive. Just as Suffren was about to return to Cuddalore the British sent an officer to claim the Severe whose captain, Cillart, had tried to strike to the Monarch but had been prevented by his officers. Here Suffren lost such patience as he had left. Cillart and
Maurville were sent home for trial, also Forbin of the Vengeur who had never redeemed his failure at Praya. Suffren in so doing took the law in his own hands. “The service requires it absolutely,” he reported. Several other officers were given “leaves.” The same dispatch, however, warmly commended some of his subordinates.
On July 8 Suffren arrived at Cuddalore. By the 10th he was ready for sea. Considering the severity of the engagement he had fought, this performance was well- nigh miraculous. Operating without any arsenal at his disposal, lacking spare parts and stores, somehow he had managed nevertheless to keep going. Houses at Cuddalore had been torn down to furnish masts, sepoys and negroes were shipped to fill the gaps, his Dutch and Indian allies furnished such supplies as they had, and then en route! It took Hughes one month to recover and he had bases to draw upon.
Suffren was about to put to sea when startling news reached him. Hyder Ali was on his way to meet the new French commander. “We advise you to return as soon as possible bringing with you 25 warships in order to take all the British vessels at sea.” That an Indian prince should have a keener appreciation of the value of action than a French admiral is not without humor. The words quoted were addressed to Admiral d’Orves by the Nabob Hyder Ali, him whom our insurgent colonists were wont to call “our Indian ally.” Although Suffren did not bring the number of warships requested, his conduct since his arrival in Indian waters proved that he was a man after the Nabob’s own heart. On the 26th Suffren and his captains set forth to greet that potentate in his camp. A curious sight it must have been. Suffren in his palanquin threads his way through a crowd of 300,000 men, women, and children, past rows of elephants, camels, buffaloes, a bazaar and thousands of tents, in the center of which are the Nabob’s headquarters surrounded by lancers and six loaded cannon whose gun crews stand by with lighted fuses. The procession halts. The French grenadiers present arms and Suffren dismounts and bows to a dazzling, glittering apparition who smilingly bids him enter. Suffren sinks on a cushion which he promptly crushes. His thoughtful host supplies another and another, until Suffren finds a secure foundation for his enormous weight. The sides of the cushions curl around his body already smothered by a tight full-dress uniform. In a stifling tent, under the glare of torches, the durbar lasts until midnight. These courtesy visits continue for several days. Hyder Ali presents Suffren with an elephant but later commutes the gift into 24,000 livres which Suffren at once divides among his Indian officers. All of Suffren’s captains receive valuable presents. Not to be outdone, Suffren gives Hyder Ali a handsome clock, an Etruscan vase, and two ornate chandeliers. We do not know whether he informed his host that these treasures had originally been intended as a gift from His Britannic Majesty to the Emperor of China but had been captured by one of Suffren’s cruisers.
As Bussy’s first detachment was due to arrive shortly, Suffren took his leave of the Nabob on July 29 and returned to Cuddalore. Here he picked up his French troops and his native contingents and then sailed for Batticalao which he reached on August 9. By the 21st the last of the re-enforcements had straggled in. The next day he proceeded to Trincomalee, which capitulated on the 30th. On September 2 Hughes appeared, expecting to anchor. To his surprise he found Suffren in possession, so beat a hasty retreat with Suffren in hot pursuit. He now had fourteen ships to Hughes’ twelve. The resultant action was a monotonous repetition of Suffren’s previous experiences. The Illustre and the Ajax were the only vessels to follow the Eeros and close with the enemy. “It is frightful to have been in a position four times to destroy the British squadron and that it should still exist!” he reported. Nelson at his best was not fired with a greater spirit of the offensive.
Shortly thereafter Suffren lost the Orient and the Bizarre due to the poor seamanship of their commanders. If only he had Albert de Rions as second in command! “Send a frigate to fetch him even if he is in America,” he wrote to Castries. “If I had him I could do better as he would help me. If I die the good of the service would lose nothing.” After a cruise to Sumatra to avoid the worst of the monsoon season, Suffren suddenly appeared off Madras and destroyed shipping under the very nose of the British fleet. In the meantime Hyder Ali had died and had been succeeded by his son Tippo Sahib. While cruising along the coast in search of his new ally, Suffren received word that Bussy had at last arrived with the rest of the expedition. He rushed to meet him and escort him into Cuddalore which he reached on March 17. Suffren then returned to Trincomalee but soon was compelled to come to Bussy’s assistance. The British were besieging him in Cuddalore. During the night of June 16-17 Suffren slipped between Hughes and the shore and took on 600 Europeans and a like number of sepoys to strengthen his undermanned fleet. On June 20 he forced Hughes to action. The British had 18 sail to Suffren’s 15. In this, his fifth engagement in Indian waters, he simplified his plan. As the classic line of battle was a form of attack his captains understood, the affair went off smoothly and the British were compelled to raise the siege of Cuddalore. Shortly thereafter Suffren received dispatches from Paris. They informed him that he had been confirmed in the rank of chef d’escadre, that he had been given the additional rank of Lieutenant General, and that his order had promoted him to bailli. On June 28 a British vessel under flag of truce brought the news that peace negotiations had begun in Paris on
January 20. Suffren entered into an armistice. He had fought his last battle and on October 6, 1783, the Heros, proudly flying the square pennant of a Lieutenant General at the fore, turned her figurehead westward bearing a living hero to his native shores.
The glory Suffren had so ardently desired was now his. At Cape Town Commodore King and his staff, in full uniform, called on their late enemy, a sportsmanlike tribute that pleased Suffren greatly. On his arrival in France honors fairly rained upon him. When the audience at the premiere of Gluck’s opera Les Danaides recognized the corpulent naval officer who had just entered a box, orchestra and singers joined them in an ovation that stopped the performance. The King promoted him to Vice Admiral and in the chapel at Versailles he knelt before his sovereign and received the Order of the Saint Esprit. On his presentation to the Dauphin the child paid him a spontaneous compliment that must have touched the old sea dog. “I have just been reading about heroes,” he said as he laid down a copy of Plutarch’s Lives. “Now I have seen one.” The Knights named him their ambassador in Paris. As bailli he already had two rich abbeys, and now he was given the use of the Maltese Embassy on the corner of the rue de la Chaussee d’Antin and the Boulevards. His income amounted to 100,000 byres per annum. His first thought was to share his good fortune with his cousin, Madame d’Ales. As he had taken vows of celibacy he could not offer her more. Let us leave him awhile to his well-earned leisure and examine his character and life’s work.
Sure of the rectitude of his motives and the correctness of his judgment, Suffren was a hard taskmaster for his officers. In reading his dispatches we are impressed by his ardor for action and surprised at the violence with which he berates his captains. After making every allowance for indolence, routine, cupidity, jealousy, and every other human failing, still the reader remains under the impression that some other causes must exist to account for their failure to co-operate with their dynamic leader. Complaining of their conduct at Trincomalee, Suffren reported as follows: “All, yes all, could have approached, as we had the weather gauge. Not one of them did so. I can only attribute such horrible conduct to a desire to get through with the campaign, to ill-will, to ignorance, as I dare not suspect something worse.” Admiral Castex, who has given the eighteenth century navies careful study, suggests a better solution.
That “something worse,” unknown to Suffren, was the conventional conception of the eighteenth century concerning combat, something genius itself was powerless to dispel from the prevailing intellect. . . . The reason for their failures is much more simple. It is to be found in the deviation imposed on their minds by the methods of combat, the long and regrettable traditions of the eighteenth century. What proves it is the fact that the tactical execution improves visibly when Suffren gives in, reluctantly abandons his lofty personal conceptions, and no longer strives for objectives too original for his officers’ mentality.
Obviously, Suffren could not accomplish his main object which was nothing less than the annihilation of British maritime and colonial power, an object he always claimed was attainable. “England has never been strong save through the weakness and the ineptitude of our government.” No wonder Napoleon, reviewing at Saint Helena the causes of his downfall, exclaimed that had Suffren lived in his time the entire course of history would have been changed. All things considered, however, Suffren could be well pleased with the results of his efforts. For two whole years he had operated thousands of miles away from any real base, yet in spite of these handicaps he had saved the Dutch at the Cape and both the Dutch and the French comptoires in India. His threat against the British domination in India had forced a satisfactory peace in spite of the reverses to French arms in other areas. Last but not least, he had made it difficult for England to make a wholehearted attempt at quelling the American insurrection. Joshua Barney’s ship, the Eyder Ali, with which he captured the General Monk, could with equal propriety have been named the Suffren.
Suffren had all the eccentricities that go to make a man popular with his inferiors. On going into action he invariably wore a faded three-cornered hat which the superstitious among his crew regarded as a talisman. At Negapatam Suffren passes among his gunners and exhorts them not to fear the British fire. “The English shoot like j . . . f . . . s,” he assures them. The epithet is untranslatable and unprintable. “The ‘old man’ talks about courage,” one seaman mutters, “he knows that with his hat he runs no risk.” “Triple animal,” roars the Admiral, who had overheard the remark, “just see whether I need my hat!” and overboard it goes. In appearance, except for a keen eye, Suffren was anything but military. His one failing was gluttony. William Hickey, who dined aboard his flagship, has recorded the enormous appetite of the French Admiral, also a lack of personal neatness amounting almost to slovenliness. “He looked much more like a little fat, vulgar English butcher than a Frenchman of consequence.” Hickey tells us in his memoirs:
In height he was about five feet five inches, very corpulent, scarce any hair upon his head, the sides and back tolerably thick. Although quite grey he wore neither powder nor pomatum, nor any curl, having a short cue of three or four inches tied with a piece of old spun yarn. He was in a pair of old shoes, the straps being cut off, blue cloth breeches unbuttoned at the knees, cotton or thread stockings (none of the cleanest) hanging about his legs, no waistcoat or cravat, a coarse linen shirt entirely wet with perspiration, open at the neck, the sleeves being rolled up above his elbows.
Hickey redeems this far from flattering portrait by a tribute to the “most engaging attention and politeness” of his host. “Exceedingly affable and pleasing,” “the insinuating and elegant address of a French man of fashion,” are among some of the comments he makes as he notes that the Admiral had placed in the jolly boat that was to row Hickey and his wife ashore some chocolates, liqueurs, and fruits which he presented to Mrs. Hickey “with many handsome compliments.” Evidently the French Admiral had a well-stocked larder. To avoid being disturbed at table he informed his native allies that the Christian religion forbade his transacting business at his meals, a precept that impressed the heathens greatly. On one occasion a hailstorm fell upon the deck of his ship. Suffren ordered that the hail stones be picked up so that he and his crew could enjoy the delicacy of an ice. D’Estaing used to remark humorously that Suffren shipped more “poulets” than “boulets,”yet he would climb in and out of his gig with the agility of a midshipman and, since he disliked all formality, without the assistance of “side boys.”
But to return to the Maltese embassy. To a man accustomed to activity his new life must have seemed tedious. What was worse, he was growing old, in spirit if not in body. If, instead of going to the premiere of Les Danaides, Suffren had gone to the same theater the next evening he would have been surprised. The premiere that night was a comedy called Le Marriage de Figaro (April 27, 1784). Into the new world of the Revolution the blunt old sailor hardly fitted. He had the chagrin of seeing himself ignored even in naval matters, such as the new Ordonnances de la Marine and the new docks at Cherbourg. The events of the day bring him no solace. The affaire du collier, the impostures of Cagliostro, arouse his indignation, and as for the peace terms, in which Holland gets decidedly the worst of it, the less said the better. To add to his sorrows, his favorite nephew is lost at sea. Suffren, who had risked his own life countless times, ashore and afloat, reproaches himself bitterly for having shipped the lad with La Perouse.
“Here I am, once a man of importance, now fallen to the humble state of a bourgeois of Paris,” he laments. If we are to credit a legend, Suffren was to have the thrill of one last fight. The Prince de Mirepoix, he who fought the celebrated duel with Maurice de Saxe, is said to have solicited Suffren’s intervention in behalf of two nephews under charges of misconduct during the American campaign. Suffren, so runs the story, declined in no uncertain terms, and a duel resulted in which Suffren was killed. The tale will not hold water. To begin with, Mirepoix did not have two nephews under charges. Moreover, the death of so prominent a person as Suffren on the field of honor could hardly have been kept secret until 1832 when his valet, Dehodency, then an old man, released the story. The truth is that Suffren died of wounds inflicted by a lethal weapon, but that weapon was the knife of an unskilled surgeon. Much as we should like to have our hero fall sword in hand, the facts are more prosaic. An attack of erysipelas had left Suffren an ill man. Madame Victoire, the aunt of the King, insisted that her protege consult her physician. That worthy bled Suffren once and, as that did not seem to improve his condition, bled him again. As a result the greatest sailor of France weighed anchor on the longest of journeys on December 8, 1788. His death passed practically unnoticed.
He was buried in the church of Sainte- Marie-Madeleine de la Ville-Eveque, the quiet sanctuary of the Knights Templars which, on the dissolution of that order, had been assigned to the Knights of Malta. His sleep was soon to be disturbed. Four years later the mob surged into the church and with inconoclastic savagery scattered the bones of the Knights. Among the raging sans-culottes who vented their stupid fury on the earthly remains of Suffren could there have been some who but a few years before had acclaimed the hero of Trincomalee?
“La gloire, cette fumee pour laquelle on fait tant de choses!”
1 Quoted in full in Castex's Les Idies Militaires de la Marin e au XVIII Slide.
★
We find a fighting position clearly characterized only in the case of Suffren and Nelson, for whom the formation is merely a means, anterior to the battle, of holding their forces in hand so as to throw them subsequently upon the enemy in a determined position.
It is too often forgotten “that it is easier to let loose the tempest than to guide it”; so that the role of the chief of squadron will consist principally in distributing his forces; after which he will be obliged to let them act. Materially, the ships will seem to escape from his control insofar as beautiful general maneuvers are concerned; morally, his action will make itself felt much more powerfully than could the ready-made phrases of a signal, if he has known how to instil into each captain the line of conduct he ought to follow. “The leader’s guiding thought hovers over the field of battle.”—Daveluy, Genius of Naval Warfare.