On Friday the eighth of September, general Bligh, with his little army, began his march for Guildo, at the distance of nine miles, which he reached in the evening; next day he crossed a little gut or inlet of the sea, at low water, and his troops being incommoded by the peasants, who fired at them from hedges and houses, he sent a priest with a message, intimating, that if they would not desist, he would reduce their houses to ashes. No regard being paid to this intimation, the houses were actually set on fire as soon as the troops had formed their camp about two miles on the other side of the inlet. Next morning he proceeded to the village of Matignon, where, after some smart skirmishing, the French piquets appeared, drawn up in order, to the number of two battalions; but having sustained a few shots from the English field-pieces, and seeing the grenadiers advance, they suddenly dispersed. General Bligh continuing his route through the village, encamped in the open ground, about three miles from the bay of St. Cas, which was this day reconnoitred for re-embarkation; for he now received undoubted intelligence, that the duke d’Aiguillon had advanced from Brest to Lambale, within six miles of the English camp, at the head of twelve regular battalions, six squadrons, two regiments of militia, eight mortars, and ten pieces of cannon. The bay of St. Cas was covered by an intrenchment which the enemy had thrown up, to prevent or oppose any disembarkation; and on the outside of this work there was a range of sand hills extending along shore, which could have served as a cover to the enemy, from whence they might have annoyed the troops in re-embarking; for this reason a proposal was made to the general, that the forces should be re-embarked from a fair open beach on the left, between St. Cas and Guildo; but this advice was rejected, and, indeed, the subsequent operations of the army savoured strongly of blind security and rash presumption. Had the troops decamped in the night without noise, in all probability they would have arrived at the beach before the French had received the least intelligence of their motion; and in that case, the whole army, consisting of about six thousand men, might have been re-embarked without the least interruption; but instead of this cautious manner of proceeding, the drums were beaten at two o’clock in the morning, as if with intention to give notice to the enemy, who forthwith repeated the same signal. The troops were in motion before three, and though the length of the march did not exceed three miles, the halts and interruptions were so numerous and frequent, that they did not arrive on the beach of St. Cas till nine. Then the embarkation was begun, and might have been happily finished, had the transports lain near the shore and received the men as fast as the boats could have conveyed them on board, without distinction; but many ships rode at a considerable distance, and every boat carried the men on board the respective transports to which they belonged; a punctilio of disposition by which a great deal of time was unnecessarily consumed. The small ships and bomb-ketches were brought near the shore, to cover the embarkation; and a considerable number of sea-officers were stationed on the beach, to superintend the boats’ crews, and regulate the service; but notwithstanding all their attention and authority, some of the boats were otherwise employed than in conveying the unhappy soldiers. Had all the cutters and small craft belonging to the fleet been properly occupied in this service, the disgrace and disaster of the day would scarce have happened. The British forces had skirmished a little on the march, but no considerable body of the enemy appeared until the embarkation was begun; then they took possession of an eminence by a windmill, and forthwith opened a battery of ten cannon and eight mortars, from whence they fired with considerable effect upon the soldiers on the beach, and on the boats in their passage. They afterwards began to march down the hill, partly covered by a hollow way on their left, with a design to gain a wood, where they might form and extend themselves along the front of the English, and advance against them under shelter of the sand-hills: but in their descent they suffered extremely from the cannon and mortars of the shipping, which made great havock and threw them into confusion. Their line of march down the hill was staggered, and for some time continued in suspense; then they turned off to one side, extended themselves along a hill to their left, and advanced in a hollow way, from whence they suddenly rushed out to the attack. Though the greater part of the British troops were already embarked, the rear-guard, consisting of all the grenadiers and half of the first regiment of guards, remained on the shore, to the number of fifteen hundred, under the command of major-general Dury. This officer, seeing the French advance, ordered his troops to form in grand divisions, and march from behind the bank that covered them, in order to charge the enemy before they could be formed on the plain. Had this step been taken when it was first suggested to Mr. Dury, before the French were disengaged from the hollow way, perhaps it might have so far succeeded as to disconcert and throw them into confusion; but by this time they had extended themselves into a very formidable front, and no hope remained of being able to withstand such a superior number. Instead of attempting to fight against such odds in an open field of battle, they might have retreated along the beach to a rock on the left, in which progress their right flank would have been secured by the in-trenchment; and the enemy could not have pursued them along the shore, without being exposed to such a fire from the shipping, as in all probability they could not have sustained. This scheme was likewise proposed to Mr. Dury; but he seemed to be actuated by a spirit of infatuation. The English line being drawn up in uneven ground, began the action with an irregular fire from right to left, which the enemy returned; but their usual fortitude and resolution seemed to forsake them on this occasion. They saw themselves in danger of being surrounded and cut in pieces; their officers dropped on every side; and all hope of retreat was now intercepted. In this cruel dilemma, their spirits failed; they were seized with a panic; they faultered, they broke; and in less than five minutes after the engagement began, they fled in the utmost confusion, pursued by the enemy, who no sooner saw them give way than they fell in among them with their bayonets fixed, and made a great carnage. General Dury being dangerously wounded, ran into the sea, where he perished; and this was the fate of a great number, officers as well as soldiers. Many swam towards the boats and vessels, which were ordered to give them all manner of assistance; but by far the greater number were either butchered on the beach, or drowned in the water: a small body, however, instead of throwing themselves into the sea, retired to the rock on the left, where they made a stand, until they had exhausted their ammunition, and then surrendered at discretion The havock was moreover increased by the shot and shells discharged from the battery which the enemy had raised on the hill. The slaughter would not have been so great, had not the French soldiers been exasperated by the fire from the frigates, which was still maintained even after the English troops were routed; but this was no sooner silenced by a signal from the commodore, than the enemy exhibited a noble example of moderation and humanity, in granting immediate quarter and protection to the vanquished. About one thousand chosen men of the English army were killed and taken prisoners on this occasion: nor was the advantage cheaply purchased by the French troops, among whom the shot and shells from the frigates and ketches had done great execution. The clemency of the victors was the more remarkable, as the British troops in this expedition had been shamefully guilty of marauding, pillaging, burning, and other excesses. War is so dreadful in itself, and so severe in its consequences, that the exercise of generosity and compassion, by which its horrors are mitigated, ought ever to be applauded, encouraged, and imitated. We ought also to use our best endeavours to deserve this treatment at the hands of a civilised enemy. Let us be humane in our turn to those whom the fate of war has subjected to our power: let us, in prosecuting our military operations, maintain the most rigid discipline among the troops, and religiously abstain from all acts of violence and oppression. Thus a laudable emulation will undoubtedly ensue, and the powers at war vie with each other in humanity and politeness. In other respects the commander of an invading armament will always find his account in being well with the common people of the country in which the descent is made. By civil treatment and seasonable gratifications, they will be encouraged to bring into the camp regular supplies of provision and refreshment; they will mingle with the soldiers, and even form friendships among them; serve as guides, messengers, and interpreters; let out their cattle for hire as draft-horses; work with their own persons as day-labourers; discover proper fords, bridges, roads, passes, and defiles; and, if artfully managed, communicate many useful hints of intelligence. If great care and circumspection be not exerted in maintaining discipline, and bridling the licentious dispositions of the soldiers, such invasions will be productive of nothing but miscarriage and disgrace: for this at best is but a piratical way of carrying on war; and the troops engaged in it are, in some measure, debauched by the nature of the service. They are crowded together in transports, where the minute particulars of military order cannot be observed, even though the good of the service greatly depends upon a due observance of these forms. The soldiers grow negligent, and inattentive to cleanness and the exterior ornaments of dress: they become slovenly, slothful, and altogether unfit for a return of duty: they are tumbled about occasionally in ships and boats, landed and re-embarked in a tumultuous manner, under a divided and disorderly command: they are accustomed to retire at the first report of an approaching enemy, and to take shelter on another element; nay, their small pillaging parties are often obliged to fly before unarmed peasants. Their duty on such occasions is the most unmanly part of a soldier’s office; namely, to ruin, ravage, and destroy. They soon yield to the temptation of pillage, and are habituated to rapine: they give loose to intemperance, riot, and intoxication; commit a thousand excesses; and, when the enemy appears, run on board the ships with their booty. Thus the dignity of the service is debased; they lose all sense of honour and of shame; they are no longer restricted by military laws, nor overawed by the authority of officers; in a word, they degenerate into a species of lawless buccaneers. From such a total relaxation of morals and discipline, what can ensue but riot, confusion, dishonour, and defeat? All the advantage that can be expected from these sudden starts of invasion, will scarce overbalance the evils we have mentioned, together with the extraordinary expense of equipping armaments of this nature. True it is, these descents oblige the French king to employ a considerable number of his troops for the defence of his maritime places: they serve to ruin the trade of his subjects, protect the navigation of Great Britain, and secure its coast from invasion; but these purposes might be as effectually answered, at a much smaller expense, by the shipping alone. Should it be judged expedient, however, to prosecute this desultory kind of war, the commanders employed in it will do well to consider, that a descent ought never to be hazarded in an enemy’s country, without having taken proper precautions to secure a retreat; that the severest discipline ought to be preserved during all the operations of the campaign; that a general ought never to disembark but upon a well-concerted plan, nor commence his military transactions without some immediate point or object in view; that a re-embarkation ought never to be attempted, except from a clear open beach, where the approaches of an enemy may be seen, and the troops covered by the fire of their shipping. Those who presume to reflect upon the particulars of this last expedition, owned themselves at a loss to account for the conduct of the general, in remaining on shore after the design upon St. Maloes was laid aside; in penetrating so far into the country without any visible object; neglecting the repeated intelligence which he received; communicating, by beat of drum, his midnight motions to an enemy of double his force; loitering near seven hours in a march of three miles; and, lastly, attempting the re-embarkation of the troops at a place where no proper measures had been taken for their cover and defence. After the action of St. Cas, some civilities, by message, passed between the duke d’Aiguillon and the English commanders, who were favoured with a list of the prisoners, including four sea captains; and assured that the wounded should receive all possible comfort and assistance. These matters being adjusted, commodore Howe returned with the fleet to Spithead, and the soldiers were disembarked.
The success of the attempt upon Cherbourg had elevated the people to a degree of childish triumph; and the government thought proper to indulge this petulant spirit of exultation, by exposing twenty-one pieces of French cannon in Hyde-park, from whence they were drawn in procession to the Tower, amidst the acclamations of the populace. From this pinnacle of elation and pride they were precipitated to the abyss of despondence or dejection, by the account of the miscarriage at St. Cas, which buoyed up the spirits of the French in the same proportion. The people of that nation began to stand in need of some such cordial after the losses they had sustained, and the ministry of Versailles did not fail to make the most of this advantage: they published a pompous narrative of the battle of St. Cas, and magnified into a mighty victory the puny check which they had given to the rear-guard of an inconsiderable detachment. The people received it with implicit belief, because it was agreeable to their passions, and congratulated themselves upon their success in hyperboles, dictated by that vivacity so peculiar to the French nation. Indeed, these are artifices which the ministers of every nation find it necessary to use at certain conjunctures, in governing the turbulent and capricious multitude. After the misfortune at St. Cas, nothing further was attempted by that armament; nor was any enterprise of importance achieved by the British ships in Europe during the course of this summer. The cruisers, however, still continued active and alert. Captain Hervey, in the ship Monmouth, destroyed a French ship of forty guns in the island of Malta; an exploit of which the Maltese loudly complained, as a violation of their neutrality. About twenty sail of small French vessels were driven ashore on the rocks of Bretagne, by some cruisers belonging to the fleet commanded by lord Anson, after a smart engagement with two frigates, under whose convoy they sailed. In the month of November, the Belliqueux, a French ship of war mounted with sixty-four guns, having by mistake run up St. George’s channel, and anchored in Lundy-road, captain Saumarez of the Antelope, then lying in King-road, immediately weighed and went in quest of her, according to the advice he had received. When he appeared, the French captain heaved up his anchor, and made a show of preparing for an engagement; but soon hauled down his colours, and, without firing a shot, surrendered, with a complement of four hundred and seventeen men, to a ship of inferior force both in number of hands and weight of metal. By this time the English privateers swarmed to such a degree in the channel, that scarce a French vessel durst quit the harbour, and consequently there was little or no booty to be obtained. In this dearth of legal prizes, some of the adventurers were tempted to commit acts of piracy, and actually rifled the ships of neutral nations. A Dutch vessel, having on board the baggage and domestics belonging to the marquis de Pignatelli, ambassador from the court of Spain to the king of Denmark, was boarded three times successively by the crews of three different privateers, who forced the hatches, rummaged the hold, broke open and rifled the trunks and boxes of the ambassador, insulted and even cruelly bruised his officers, stripped his domestics, and carried off his effects, together with letters of credit, and a bill of exchange. Complaints of these outrages being made to the court of London, the lords of the admiralty promised, in the gazette, a reward of five hundred pounds, without deduction, to any person who should discover the offenders concerned in these acts of piracy. Some of them were detected accordingly, and brought to condign punishment.