Plymouth, the American War of Independence, and the Armada of 1779

On the morning of the 15th August 1779 the fisherman and villagers at Kingsand and Cawsand woke up to a startling sight. In the harbour before them, and stretching out into Plymouth Sound, were 66 French and Spanish warships, surrounded by a “cloud” of frigates, sloops, and fire ships. The fleet would have made an awe inspiring sight. Many of the French and Spanish ships fielded 80, 90, even a hundred guns. Such large ships would have had three decks, and towered over the small cottages that formed Kingsand and Cawsand. The ships had been dispatched by the governments of France and Spain as part of their war effort in support of the Patriot Americans. The arrival of this fleet put Plymouth on the front line in the American War of Independence. In this post I will consider how Plymouth, 3,000 miles from the action, became such a key theatre of the war. And how the invasion affected the Government’s view of Plymouth’s importance in the defence of the realm.

Cawsand and Plymouth Sound beyond

The American War of Independence broke out in 1775. Initially hostilities were confined to Britain’s thirteen colonies in North America, which stretched from Vermont in the North to Virginia in the South. The rebellious colonists also attempted to attack British Canada and Florida, although both of these colonies remained loyal to the Crown. Soon, however, Britain’s continental rivals began to interfere in the course of the war. First France (1778), then Spain (1779), and finally the Netherlands (1780) entered the war on the side of the Americans. The entrance of the European powers turned Britain’s war against rebellious colonists into a global conflict. Britain now had to defend not only her colonies in North America but also her possessions in the West Indies, Mediterranean, and India. The resources required to fight the war now increased exponentially. In 1780 Britain had around 100,000 soldiers and sailors under arms. Only around 30% of these were deployed in America, the rest were tasked with defending the British homeland and various far flung colonial possessions.

It was as part of France and Spain’s war effort that the fleet anchored in the Sound had been dispatched. The previous year (1778), the French fleet under the Comte d’Orvilliers had fought the British fleet to a standstill at the Battle of Ushant, off the coast of Brittany. This (partial) success had led d’Orvilliers and the French government to believe that a landing on the British coast might just meet with success. In April of 1779, the French fleet slipped out of Brest, past an ineffectual British blockade, and headed South to rendezvous with the Spanish fleet off the Basque coast. After six weeks of waiting the fleets met (the Spanish claimed they were delayed by contrary winds) and sailed for Britain. Waiting back at Brest was an army of 30-40,000 troops. Once the British fleet was destroyed this army was meant to cross the channel and invade Britain. The fleet’s initial target was the Isle of Wight, which d’Orvilliers intended to use a base to attack and destroy Portsmouth. Failing that they were to attack Plymouth. The news of this impending invasion was greatly feared in Britain. In the press, in Parliament, and, one imagines, in pubs and taverns along the South Coast, the allied fleet was referred to as a second ‘Armada.’

The Comte d’Orvilliers led the French at the Battle of Ushant

However, like the 1588 Armada, this invasion was blighted by bad planning and even worse weather. Contrary winds meant that the fleet did not enter the Channel until August, far too late to capture a rich fleet of East India Trade ships, which reached Plymouth safely in late July. Once d’Orvilliers was finally approaching the Solent a message arrived from the French government ordering him to turn around and attack Falmouth, which was now considered the best place to stage an invasion. The French admiral disagreed. He believed that Plymouth, with its Royal Dockyard, was the obvious choice. A letter was dispatched to Paris explaining the admirals misgivings. It was at this point that the fleet sailed into the Sound, while waiting for a reply. The day before the British suffered their first loss of the campaign, when the Man of War, Ardent (64), sailed straight into the centre of the allied fleet thinking the vessels were British. Ironically Ardent had been dispatched to locate and shadow the French and Spanish.

The fleet hovered off Plymouth for three days when a gale began to blow. The ships had to put out to sea to avoid being dashed upon the rocks. The fleet was then blown out into the Atlantic. The weather, as always, had batted for Britain. The failure of this invasion might appear as a damp squib. After all the French had not actually attacked Plymouth, they had not landed any troops, nor had the managed to burn or capture the Dockyard. And yet at the time these events had a huge effect on the fears of the general populace and the way Plymouth was seen by the government in London. In particular, these events had pointed to Plymouth’s defensive weaknesses. The British Channel Fleet, under an aged Admiral Hardy, only had 40 ships of the line and, in any case, had remained off the Scilly Isles for the length of the crisis. A debate soon began in London over the value of Plymouth to the nation’s defences and the ability of Plymouth to resist attack. In Parliament, on the 25 April 1780, Lord Townshend declared that “Plymouth ... had been acknowledged by the first Lord of the Admiralty, to be equal in value to one third part of the kingdom, at least as applied to our national defence, our navy... The ruin or conquest of the country, would not, be the consequence of the destruction of Plymouth; but as a maritime power, it would be such a blow as would probably lay us, if not entirely, certainly very much, at the mercy of our enemies.” In a debate in July Lord Townshend further claimed that the batteries at Plymouth were able to fire 70 guns at each ship in the allied fleet. This was a clear exaggeration, and many other Parliamentarians continued to worry about the defences of both Plymouth and Portsmouth.

The ignominious defence of Plymouth even made it to the London stage in the form of a musical farce (available here). The play depicts Plymouth’s soldiers and sailors as patriotic and pugnacious but also drunk and in a terrible confusion over how to actually resist the French fleet. As in the Parliamentary debates, the conclusion draws specific attention to the necessity of the navy in the defence of the realm and Plymouth’s place in the wider naval system. The character of the lieutenant closes the play singing the following lines:

In vain with greedy eye they see

Our roast beef pouring gravy,

Our lovely dames our liberty;

Which jointly serve

To brace each nerve:

To prove in spight of all their boast,

No danger shall annoy our coast,

While we’ve a gallant navy.

The history of Plymouth in the wider world

Welcome to my blog! Here I will post a series of articles looking at the place of Plymouth and its history in the wider Atlantic world. There are, of course, a number of excellent websites and books that already tell the history of Plymouth. From the work of Chris Robinson, and others, Plymouthians are well served with accounts of their own history. However, these works are often local in their outlook. They focus on individual stories from Plymouth. The rise of Great Britain, the British Empire, and the frequent wars with continental rivals that dominate our island history often serve only to drive forward events within Plymouth, or as context. It will be my assertion in this blog, on the contrary, that another way to understand the history of the city is to look at its place within the Atlantic world. This wider view, I contend, will demonstrate both how Plymouth’s history was shaped by events in the wider world, but also how Plymouth and Plymouthians were active players in that wider history.

Let us pause a minute to consider what I mean by Atlantic history. Atlantic history is an academic area that has proved particularly popular in the United States. Historians who investigate this area have explored the growth of the maritime empires of Spain, Portugal, the Netherlands, France, and Britain over the course of the early modern period. They look at the connections which unite the European powers, with the Atlantic coast of Africa and North and South America. The sea lanes that connected this vast geographical area allowed the shipment of goods, people, slaves, and ideas. It was on European ships that christianity, republicanism, and whole host of other ideas were transported. At the same time the imperial systems that were established directly affected those back at home both in terms of the increased range of products that were now available and through exposure to foreign cultures. A key component in the Atlantic system was sailors, who would often learn African and native American languages, and frequently provided a route for revolutionary and rebellious ideas to spread around the Atlantic littoral. Plymouth, of course, was a port where many of those sailors would wind up, and the cities history would be directly shaped by its place in this larger international system. Atlantic history, therefore, provides the historian with the ability to take a bird's eye view of the connection between events over a wide geographical area and over the long duration, at the same time it encourages one to focus in on local history and its place in the wider world.

The role of Plymouth in the Empire, the navy, the slave trade, commerce, discovery, and many other topics, will all be covered in due course in this blog. These topicswill be explored through particular historical examples. Over the coming months, I will post a number of articles that will focus on particular events such as wars, Revolutions, and the like. We will begin with how Plymouth suddenly found itself on the front line during the American War of Independence and what this meant for the people of Plymouth.