Caithness and Napoleon 3

James Caithness was one of an estimated 12 000 to 16 000 British prisoners-of-war held in Napoleonic France. Statistics vary, but the number was small when compared with the many thousands captured on the battlefields of Europe. The latter were subjected to extreme brutality and degradation, particularly the Spanish. Treatment of British prisoners was tempered by fear of reprisals on the other side of the Channel, where some 70 000 French prisoners were sitting out the war in England.

It seems obvious that there should have been a system for exchange of prisoners but Napoleon made his own rules and in any case things had changed since the mid-18^th c when an unwritten code of honourable conduct regarding captives was generally accepted. The French Revolution had swept away such norms.

There were some instances where British officers were exchanged for French prisoners of equal rank. Captain Woodriff of HMS Calcutta, imprisoned at Verdun, achieved his release in this way early in 1807. For the lower deck sailors and military rank and file there was no option but to survive as best they might or to risk the dangers of escape and possible recapture followed by rigorous punishment or death. Accounts of these daring and often repeated attempts are an astonishing testament to the indomitable human spirit.

The constant moving of captives from one fortress to another was a way of foiling plots to escape, preventing men becoming closely acquainted during lengthy stays. These forced marches were one of the worst aspects of the prisoners’ existence. Batches were escorted by gendarmes or soldiers, the men handcuffed in pairs or roped together. Overnight they would be locked in barns or disused buildings or the town gaols.

‘We walked always between 20 and 30 miles’ said one British prisoner ‘and on entering any town where we were to pass the night we were … called over (roll call or appel) … the same form of calling over took place again next morning.’

Midshipman O’Brien of the frigate Hussar, wrecked off the coast of Brittany in the early part of 1804, relates how he and the rest of his ship’s company were marched from Brest to Verdun, lodged in abominable hovels or underground dungeons in bitterly cold weather with a scanty supply of straw for bedding.

At some places when the convoy arrived at their destination for the night they were paraded in the market-place and made a spectacle for jeering townspeople. O’Brien mentions that at Rouen, in the gaol where the captive Hussar crew were confined, ‘French naval officers came to inspect our people and gave them some pieces of money to induce them to enter the French service … this was publicly done in the gaol-yard. We will take what money they choose to give us, sir, and that shall be all they will gain by coming here, said one volunteer.'

In January 1808, after Captain Woodriff’s release and return to England, he and his officers were acquitted at a court martial over the surrender of HMS Calcutta. Woodriff was praised for his gallant and courageous action which resulted in the convoy’s escape. Lieutenant Tuckey was a prisoner in France for almost nine years before he was released.

For James Caithness there would be no respite until 1814. Perhaps there were moments when he wished that all on board the Calcutta had fought to the death rather than endure the privations of imprisonment.

A colony established and Calcutta returns home

It rapidly became clear that the location chosen for the settlement was not ideal.

One of the main difficulties was the scarcity of fresh water. A survey of the area was made and the unfavourable report soon prompted Collins and the other members of the expedition to consider abandoning the place in favour of ‘a more eligible situation’, either to Port Dalrymple on the north side of Van Diemen’s Land or to the river Derwent on the south coast of the same island where a small party from Port Jackson was already established.

The crew of the HMS Calcutta, including James Caithness, were meanwhile busily employed collecting ship-timber to be taken back to England. This is a reminder that war against Napoleon was about to erupt once more and every British ship afloat would need to be fit for action, so Calcutta’s task was of great importance and Captain Woodriff was well aware that speed was of the essence.

It was finally decided to move the infant colony to the Derwent and this was partly accomplished before the Calcutta sailed on 18 December. The name Hobart was given to the new settlement.

Mount Nelson near Hobart

HMS Calcutta took on timber at Port Jackson and sailed again on 17 March 1804, passing south of New Zealand which was sighted on 29 March. 

Sydney Cove, Port Jackson, where Calcutta loaded 600 logs destined
for England's shipyards

Calcutta doubled Cape Horn on 27 April, arriving at Rio de Janeiro 22 May, thus, as Tuckey pointed out, ‘accomplishing a voyage round the world, discharging and receiving a cargo, in eleven months’. He reports:

The remainder of the Calcutta's voyage was almost totally barren of incident, either to amuse or instruct. In the long navigation between New Zealand and Cape Horn, scarce a single incident occurred either to interest the seaman, or the naturalist.Throughout this navigation, the wind seldom deviated to the northward of N. W. or to the southward of S. W. with strong gales, which enabled us to make an average of one hundred and eighty miles a-day for twenty nine days.

At Rio de Janeiro they took on water and all on board must have echoed Tuckey’s fervently-expressed wish to ‘see the shores which custom and reason bid us hail as the happiest of our globe’: in short, they sailed for home on 1 June. The end of one chapter for James Caithness and further adventures awaited him in the next.

Panorama: Greater Hobart

HMS Calcutta: voyage to Australia 1803

Ships off Table Bay

After leaving the Cape on board HMS Calcutta James Caithness would have been able to do some whale-watching – perhaps his first opportunity. 

Lieutenant Tuckey remarked:

In these southern seas, we were continually surrounded by whales, and were even sometimes obliged to alter our course to avoid striking on them.

The stormy seas which wash the southern promontory of Africa … are despised by the British seaman, whose vessel flies in security before the tempest, and while she rides on the billows and defies the storm, he carelessly sings as if unconscious of the warring elements around him.

Despite this boast, the effects of the wet and cold weather soon made themselves felt especially among the convicts who lacked sufficient clothing. Jackets and trousers were made up and distributed to those in need. Some cases of dysentery were reported but due to the surgeon’s care and the attention to cleanliness, only one man died. The animals taken on board at Simon’s Bay were less fortunate, three heifers dying at sea.

The tedium of the following weeks was occasionally enlivened by performances from the African American violinist William Thomas. 

To say the remainder of the voyage was plain sailing would be to ignore the fact that it took Calcutta until 10 October to arrive at King Island in the entrance of the Bass Straits (she had departed Simon’s Bay on 25 August). The lookouts aloft had been anxiously scanning the horizon for land for two days before the island was sighted and then because of an increasing breeze the ship had to stand three miles off shore.

Off the coast of New Holland

A ‘perfect hurricane’ commenced to blow, but had spent itself by the following morning, the day dawning beautifully serene. It was a totally unknown coast and Calcutta approached cautiously till the break in the land forming the entrance of Port Phillip was observed. 

A shout from the man at the mast-head alerted all to a ship at anchor within this entrance, soon identified as the Ocean, the companion vessel from which Calcutta had parted at Tristan da Cunha many weeks before. This was a welcome and cheering sight after so long at sea. Lieutenant Tuckey was unable to refrain from another fanciful passage of prose:

... an expanse of water ... unruffled as the bosom of unpolluted innocence, presented itself to the charmed eye, which roamed over it in silent admiration.The nearer shores … afforded the most exquisite scenery, and recalled the idea of ‘Nature in the world's first spring.’ In short, every circumstance combined to impress our minds with the highest satisfaction for our safe arrival.

After a week spent searching for a suitable spot for the settlement, it was decided to land the marines and convicts on the shores of a small bay eight miles from the harbour mouth. Camp was pitched and the crews of the two ships began unloading cargo. 

Lieut Col David Collins, leader of the expedition;
 Lieut Gov of Van Diemen's Land

On the first days of our landing, previous to the general debarkation,Capt. Woodriff, Colonel Collins and the First Lieutenant of the Calcutta had some interviews with the natives who came to the boats entirely unarmed, and without the smallest symptom of apprehension.

So far so good.

Scrimshaw on whale tooth