A young Scot at Trafalgar: a round-about rediscovery

21 Oct 2013

On 7 August 1911, the 17-year-old Prince of Wales – later Edward VIII – went aboard the battleship HMS Hindustan as a midshipman, as part of his naval training. The ship’s captain was Henry Hervey Campbell, an old friend of the prince’s father, King George V, from his days in the Navy - and something of a disciplinarian, which must have made it rather grim for the prince. Honoured by the King’s vote of confidence, and with Trafalgar Day on 21 October approaching, Henry Campbell sent him something of interest.  In 1805, his own grandfather -  Rear-Admiral Colin Campbell - had been a midshipman at Trafalgar  in the 74-gun Defiance, under Captain Philip Durham. Colin had sent a vivid account of the battle to his father, Walter Campbell (some time Rector of Glasgow University) and Henry had the original letter with him: so he had his clerk, A.W.G. Symonds, type a transcript to send the King. He also let Symonds keep a carbon-copy. Fifty-eight years later, in 1969, Symonds was living in retirement in Portugal and, as Trafalgar Day again approached, sent his ‘carbon’, for interest with a  note of explanation, to Dr Grace Thornton, British Consul General there. Shortly afterwards, a photocopy of both came into the hands of Alan Russett, then working in Portugal but from the 1980s  one of the early ‘Friends’ of NMM:  in 2012 he  came across these again and sent copies to me. Colin’s Campbell’s account of Trafalgar is exceptional for reasons well put by Sir George Buchan Hepburn, a Scottish family friend to whom his father showed it: ‘I truly admire the cool and manly firmness of mind he displays….The language is clear, distinct and forcible, you see all the operations he describes as if passing under your eye – It is the language of Nature, dictated in the instant, by a sound judgement and a quick decisive mind. If he lives as I trust he shall, he is formed to catch the moment of victory, and to improve it to its utmost extent – he will shine in our Naval history …’. However, the immediate questions were: had the letter ever been published and where was  the original manuscript now? Fortunately, a tip-off led to quotes from it in a 2005 biography of Captain Durham, citing the Scottish Historical Review for 1923: this first published the full text, taken from another copy of Symonds’s transcript supplied by (then Admiral and later Sir) Henry Campbell, whom we have already met. He died in 1933, so his heirs were the likely next owners of the letter, except that he never married and had no children. However, this was the time at which the NMM was being formed, prompting an embarrassingly obvious thought: perhaps we had it already? Amid the Museum’s five kilometres of manuscripts it would not be the first thing long-overlooked and there, in the database, was a cryptic reference to ‘Admiral Colin Campbell, 1797–1851 . Correspondence, 1805–06, and some family letters’. Never mind that Colin was in fact born in 1787 and the rest uninformative: the folder was quickly found. It indeed includes not only the original Trafalgar letter but another just as good about Sir Robert Calder’s indecisive preceding action of July 1805 off Cape Finisterre, Sir George Hepburn’s complimentary note (quoted above) and a few other scraps. They did not arrive in 1933 but 1950, when they were deposited in the Museum by Sir Henry Campbell’s solicitors as the best place for them, after the formal winding up of his estate. Colin Campbell became a lieutenant after Trafalgar and saw more active service until 1812, when he rose to captain. This was a retirement promotion: he never commanded a ship as one but his last voyage was to China in 1816 –apparently for pleasure –as passenger in an Indiaman commanded by his elder brother. He kept a journal of the return passage, also now at Greenwich, which includes a good account of St Helena (a regular stopping point for Indiamen), where Napoleon was already imprisoned. This was also where he learnt of the death of his father, from whom he inherited the Ardpatrick estate in Argyll: he married in 1827 and died there as a retired rear-admiral in 1851. His son, Captain James Campbell RN was his heir and father of Admiral Sir Henry, who sold Ardpatrick in 1920. Sir George Hepburn’s prediction that young Colin would ‘shine in our Naval history’ was not really fulfilled, but the most famous day in it shines through his close-action account and deserves to be better known. Here it is.

‘H.M. Ship “Defiance”

Spithead [Portsmouth]

Dec:  3^rd 1805

My Dearest Father, I take the first opportunity of a boat going ashore to write and inform you of our safe arrival at Spithead, and that I am alive and hearty after the glorious action of Trafalgar.  I was very sorry that I had not the opportunity of writing to you from Gibraltar, but I did not join the “Defiance” there till the Frigate that went to England was underweigh.  I hope, my dearest Sir, that you and all my dear friends at Woodhall [the family home, near Airdrie] are and have been quite well.  I received that kind and affectionate letter that you were so kind as to write to me, the day before we sailed from Spithead and which gave me most sincere pleasure.  I wrote a long letter to Ellie [Colin’s sister], to thank her for it, but which I never had the opportunity of sending.  I will however send it now to convince her that it was not my fault neglecting to answer such an affectionate letter, and I now return you my kindest thanks for your share of it.  I felt much gratified in knowing you approved of my letter.  I shall not attempt to give you a description of the Action, as the letters from Admiral Collingwood give a much better account of it than I could.  I shall therefore only mention what particularly happened to ourselves.  We joined Lord Nelson, on the 6^th October off Cadiz, and nothing particular happened until the 19^th when some of the Frigates inshore made the signal that the enemy’s fleet were getting underweigh.  The signal was instantly made to “chase”.  We were then a long way off Cadiz and made all sail for it.  We did not however expect they were coming out, as they had often before got underweigh only for a few hours.  On the 20^th the signal was made that the whole of their fleet had put to sea, and that night we spoke the “Pheobe” [Phoebe, frigate] (about 11 o’clock) who told us that the enemy’s fleet were within three miles of us, consisting of 33 sail of the line.  We were standing right for them and tacked directly.  At daylight we saw them in a line to leeward of us and the signal was made for a general chase.  We immediately bore up and set studding sails on both sides below and aloft, but it being light winds we did not get near enough to bring them to an Action till after noon.  About 12 Lord Nelson made the expressive signal “England expects every man to do his duty”, Captain Durham then turned the hands up and made a short, but very expressive speech to the ship’s company, which was answered by three cheers. Everything then being ready -- Matches lit-- guns double shotted with grape and rounds and decks clear –we piped to dinner, and had a good glass of grog.  The “Royal Sover[e]ign” commenced the Action by running right through their line and bringing one of their Three Deckers to close action.  We continued running down till half past one when we began firing, but not before a great many shot had been fired at us and cut our running gear to pieces. In ten minutes we got close alongside of the Prince de Esturia’s [Principe de Asturias], Spanish Three Decker, and hammered away upon her within pistol shot for three quarters of an hour when not being able to stand the little “Defiance” she bore up before the wind and ran to leeward when we got her stern to us we raked her hotly with plenty of grape and canister.  The slaughter on board of her must have been very great. She ran to leeward and never reentered the action again.  She only killed one man on board of us, the whole of her shot went through our rigging, and over our mastheads.  They fired so high that they shot away our Main top-gallant truck, every one of our shot told upon her and made the splinters fly.  While engaging her we had a Frenchman [the Aigle] playing away on our bow, so we ran alongside of her, and at 3.10 lashed ourselves to her, where we had it pretty hot, till finding we had silenced her guns.  We boarded her and took possession of her Poop and Forecastle.  One of our men ran to her masthead – hauled down the French pendant and hoisted an English Ensign and pendant, but her men still keeping up a heavy fire of musketry from her tops and lower deck, and every now and then firing some guns and throwing some stink pots into the ports which killed a number of our men, we recalled the boarders, hauled off within pistol shot, and turned to on her again, every shot of ours going through and through her.  About 4 they called for quarter which we instantly gave, and sent a Lieutenant and 20 men to take possession of her.  The slaughter on board of her was horrid, the decks were covered with dead and wounded.  They never heave their dead overboard in time of action as we do.  We had 18 men killed, amongst whom was our 2^nd Lieutenant, Boatswain and one Midshipman.  Captain Durham was slightly wounded in the leg by a splinter.  Four of our Midshipmen were also wounded and 50 men.  By 5 the Action was finished and nothing to be seen, but wrecks of masts and yards floating about, and some hundreds of dead bodies.  About this time the “Achille” (French 74) took fire and after burning about 2 hours blew up with a terrible explosion.  Many hundreds were in her at the time, many jumped overboard and were drowned.  Four French ships’ (those which Sir Richard Stra[c]han has since taken) made all sail away at this time, none of our ships being in a condition to follow them.  Our fore and main mast, bowsprit and all our topmasts were shot through in many places, and all our standing and running rigging cut to pieces.  We were all night employed splicing the same.  In the morning it came on to blow a gale of wind.  The “Aigle” had drifted close into Cadiz; we stood in to take her in tow, and found she had lost all her masts during the night, we found it impossible to take her in tow it blew so hard, and we were obliged to leave her with Lieutenant Purchase [James Purches], a Masters Mate and 12 Seamen on board lying close on the shoals of Trafalgar, and we made all sail to windward.  On the 23^rd 12 of the enemy’s fleet got underweigh and stood out, we expected they were going to give battle again, and formed the line, but they only came out a little way and retook the “St Anna”, she being close in we could not afford her any assistance.  On the 25^th we attempted to take the “Argonaut” (Spanish Prize) in tow, but there being a very heavy sea, we could not.  I was then sent with Lieutenant [Henry] Hargrave, and two other Midshipmen and 20 men to bring her to an anchor, which we did after a good deal of difficulty, there being 600 Spaniards on board, and a good many of them drunk, also her decks full of wounded.  It came on to blow a very heavy gale of wind that night and continued to blow harder and harder, till the night of the 26^th, when it blew harder than I ever saw it.  We did not expect she would ride the night out with us.  The Spaniards were terribly frightened, and all turned to, to pray, she gained on us at the pumps fast and the sea broke clean over us.  We hove all the Main deck guns overboard and let go the sheet anchor under foot in case the best bow anchor should part[;] about 12 at night the iron tiller broke in two and the rudder knocked about so much, we thought it would knock her stern post in, but about 3 in the morning it broke adrift altogether for which we were very glad.  At daybreak we found that our best bow anchor had parted in the night, but the sheet anchor still held on. We found that all the other hulks had gone ashore in the night.  We hoisted a signal of distress and fired several guns, but could not see the “Defiance” anywhere.  The two boats we came on board in had both sunk astern on the 25^th, on the 26^th, the gale abated a little, and the “Donegal” and the “Leviathan” both sent their boats to our assistance.  I and 12 men went on board the former, and the Lieutenant and the rest to the latter.  I was pretty well off there as I fell in with an old shipmate.  The Spaniards were all taken out and the ship soon after sank.  I remained in the “Donegal” till the 2^nd.  She was of great use in getting the men out of the wrecks, and burning those they were likely to get off.  While I was on board of her [,] Two French Frigates and a Brig came out to exchange prisoners, and brought out our Lieutenant and seamen who were taken in the “Aigle”.  They had drifted ashore close to Cadiz when they lay two days on the rocks, the sea running so high they could not leave her.  When the weather grew better the Spaniards sent boats to bring them on shore and plenty of mutton for the English Officers.  Many of the Frenchmen were drowned who attempted to get on shore before the boats came.  Our people were treated with the greatest kindness by the Spaniards, had rooms given them and the key to go out and in when they chose [;] they were quite sorry to come out in the Frigate as they had got Jack-Asses [i.e. donkeys] ready to go round Gibraltar on, and expected to have a famous cruise.  I went in the “Pheobe” [sic] to join the “Defiance” who had gone round to Gibraltar with the “Temeraire” in tow.  I was not a little glad when I again got on board, and shipped a clean shirt, a luxury I had not enjoyed for some time. We were at Gibraltar for a few days and then sailed for England.  Captain Durham gave me an order to act as Lieutenant, and I did the duty most of the way home.  I suppose we shall go into dock directly as our masts and bowsprits are badly wounded, Captain Durham left us yesterday in three weeks leave for London.  We arrived too late for me to pass [i.e. for lieutenant] this month so I must wait till next.  We have to-day landed 300 prisoners, and now my dearest Sir I think I have told you most of our adventures, which I am afraid you will find much difficulty in reading, but I hope you will excuse all blunders, as I can hardly stir for French Buffers in the Berth.  I hope it will not be very long before I have the pleasure of seeing you; I long much to see the old land of “Cakes” again, and all my dearest friends there, I hope you will have the kindness just to write me a few lines, that I may know you are well, I am sure you must be tired reading, I will therefore conclude with my most affectionate love to all at Woodhall, and remain my dearest papa, your ever dutiful son

Colin Campbell

P.S. John McLellan is quite well and desires his best respects to you.’

[ends]