Action of 28 February 1799

Capture of La Forte, Feb 28th 1799, Thomas Whitcombe

Date	28 February 1799
Location	Off the Hooghly River, Bay of Bengal
Result	British victory

Belligerents

Great Britain

France

Commanders and leaders

Edward Cooke

Hubert Beaulieu †

Strength

1 frigate

Casualties and losses

6 killed
16 wounded

65 killed
80 wounded
1 frigate captured

v t e East Indies theatre of the French Revolutionary Wars
Pondicherry Sunda Strait 5 May 1794 Île Ronde Ceylon Cape Colony Saldanha Bay Sumatra Bali Strait Manila Macau 9 February 1799 28 February 1799 Port Louis Mahé

The action of 28 February 1799 was a minor naval engagement of the French Revolutionary Wars, fought off the mouth of the Hooghly River in the Bay of Bengal between the French frigate Forte and the Royal Navy frigate HMS Sybille. Forte was an exceptionally large and powerful ship engaged on a commerce raiding operation against British merchant shipping off the port of Calcutta in British India. To eliminate this threat, Sybille was sent from Madras in pursuit. Acting on information from released prisoners, Edward Cooke, captain of Sybille, was sailing off Balasore when distant gunfire alerted him to the presence of Forte on the evening of 28 February. The French frigate was discovered at anchor in the sandbanks at the mouth of the Hooghly with two recently captured British merchant ships.

For unclear reasons the French captain Hubert Le Loup de Beaulieu did not properly prepare Forte to receive the attack from Cooke's frigate and he was consequently killed in the first raking broadside from the British ship. Forte's crew continued to resist for more than two hours, only surrendering when their ship had been reduced to a battered wreck and more than a third of the crew killed or wounded. British losses by contrast were light, although Cooke had been struck by grape shot during the height of the action and suffered a lingering death three months later from his wounds. The captured merchant ships subsequently escaped under their French prize crews while Cooke's executive officer Lieutenant Lucius Hardyman repaired Sybille and Forte. Hardyman took both ships into Calcutta, where Forte was commissioned into the Royal Navy under the same name, although the frigate was accidentally wrecked in the Red Sea two years later.

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Transcription

Hi, my name is John Green, this is Crash Course World History and today we’re going to talk about The French Revolution. Admittedly, this wasn’t the French flag until 1794, but we just felt like he looked good in stripes. [vertical = slimming] As does this guy. Huh? So, while the American Revolution is considered a pretty good thing, the French Revolution is often seen as a bloody, anarchic mess—which— Mr. Green, Mr. Green! I bet, like always, it’s way more complicated than that. Actually no. It was pretty terrible. Also, like a lot of revolutions, in the end it exchanged an authoritarian regime for an authoritarian regime. But even if the revolution was a mess, its ideas changed human history— far more, I will argue, than the American Revolution. [Intro music] [intro music] [intro music] [intro music] [intro music] [intro music] [intro music] Right, so France in the 18th century was a rich and populous country, but it had a systemic problem collecting taxes because of the way its society was structured. They had a system with kings and nobles we now call the ancien regime. Thank you, three years of high school French. [and Meredith the Interness] And for most French people, it sucked, [historical term] because the people with the money— the nobles and the clergy— never paid taxes. So by 1789, France was deeply in debt thanks to their funding the American Revolution— thank you, France, [also for Goddard and The Coneheads] we will get you back in World Wars I and II. And King Louis XVI was spending half of his national budget to service the federal debt. Louis tried to reform this system under various finance ministers. He even called for democracy on a local level, but all attempts to fix it failed and soon France basically declared bankruptcy. This nicely coincided with hailstorms that ruined a year’s harvest, [ah, hail] thereby raising food prices and causing widespread hunger, which really made the people of France angry, because they love to eat. Meanwhile, the King certainly did not look broke, as evidenced by his well-fed physique and fancy footwear. He and his wife Marie Antoinette also got to live in the very nice Palace at Versailles thanks to God’s mandate, but Enlightenment thinkers like Kant were challenging the whole idea of religion, writing things like: “The main point of enlightenment is of man’s release from his self-caused immaturity, primarily in matters of religion.” [while smacking folks in face w/ glove] So basically the peasants were hungry, the intellectuals were beginning to wonder whether God could or should save the King, and the nobility were dithering about, eating fois gras and songbirds, [I'd rather eat cake, personally] failing to make meaningful financial reform. In response to the crisis, Louis XVI called a meeting of the Estates General, the closest thing that France had to a national parliament, which hadn’t met since 1614. The Estates General was like a super parliament made up of representatives from the First Estate, the nobles, the Second Estate, the clergy, and the Third Estate, everyone else. The Third Estate showed up with about 600 representatives, the First and Second Estates both had about 300, and after several votes, everything was deadlocked, and then the Third Estate was like, “You know what? Forget you guys. [expletive deleted] We’re gonna leave and we’re gonna become our own National Assembly.” This did not please King Louis XVI. [everything can't be an eclair, Lou] So when the new National Assembly left the room for a break, he locked the doors, and he was like, "Sorry, guys, you can't go in there. And if you can't assemble, how you gonna be a national assembly?" […and with that, mischief managed!] Shockingly, the Third Estate representatives were able to find a different room in France, [D'oh!] this time an indoor tennis court where they swore the famous Tennis Court Oath. [Like McEnroe? You can't be serious..] And they agreed not to give up until a French constitution was established. So then Louis XVI responded by sending troops to Paris primarily to quell uprisings over food shortages, but the revolutionaries saw this as a provocation, so they responded by seizing the Bastille Prison on July 14th, which, coincidentally, is also Bastille Day. The Bastille was stormed ostensibly to free prisoners— although there were only seven in jail at the time— but mostly to get guns. But the really radical move in the National Assembly came on August 4, when they abolished most of the ancien regime. -- feudal rights, tithes, privileges for nobles, unequal taxation, they were all abolished -- in the name of writing a new constitution. And then, on August 26th, the National Assembly proclaimed the Declaration of Rights of Man and Citizen, which laid out a system of rights that applied to every person, and made those rights integral to the new constitution. That’s quite different from the American bill of rights, which was, like, begrudgingly tacked on at the end and only applied to non-slaves. The DoRoMaC, as I called it in high school, declared that everyone had the right to liberty, property, and security— rights that the French Revolution would do an exceptionally poor job of protecting, but as noted last week, the same can be argued for many other supposedly more successful revolutions. Okay, let’s go to the Thought Bubble. Meanwhile, back at Versailles, Louis XVI was still King of France, and it was looking like France might be a constitutional monarchy. Which might've meant that the royal family could hang on to their awesome house, but then, in October of 1789, a rumor started that Marie Antoinette was hoarding grain somewhere inside the palace. And in what became known as the Women's March, a bunch of armed peasant women stormed the palace and demanded that Louis and Marie Antoinette move from Versailles to Paris. Which they did, because everyone is afraid of armed peasant women. ["hell hath no rath" and all] And this is a nice reminder that to many people at the time, the French Revolution was not primarily about fancy Enlightenment ideas; it was mostly about lack of food and a political system that made economic contractions hardest on the poor. Now, a good argument can be made that this first phase of the revolution wasn’t all that revolutionary. The National Assembly wanted to create a constitutional monarchy; they believed that the king was necessary for a functioning state and they were mainly concerned that the voters and office holders be men of property. Only the most radical wing, the Jacobins, called for the creation of a republic. But things were about to get much more revolutionary— and also worse for France. First, the Jacobins had a huge petition drive that got a bit unruly, which led troops controlled not by the King but by the national assembly to fire on the crowd, killing 50 people. And that meant that the National Assembly, which had been the revolutionary voice of the people, had killed people in an attempt to reign in revolutionary fervor. You see this a lot throughout history during revolutions. What looked like radical hope and change suddenly becomes "The Man" as increasingly radical ideas are embraced. Thanks, Thought Bubble. Meanwhile, France’s monarchical neighbors were getting a little nervous about all this republic business, especially Leopold II, who in addition to being the not holy not roman and not imperial holy roman emperor, was Marie Antoinette’s brother. I should note, by the way, that at this point, the Holy Roman Empire was basically just Austria. Also, like a lot of monarchs, Leopold II liked the idea of monarchies, and he wanted to keep his job as a person who gets to stand around wearing a dress, pointing at nothing, owning winged lion-monkeys made out of gold. [must've been a real partier, that one] And who can blame him? So he and King William Frederick II of Prussia together issued the Declaration of Pilnitz, which promised to restore the French monarchy. At this point, Louis and the National Assembly developed a plan: Let’s invade Austria. [always a solid plan?] The idea was to plunder Austria’s wealth and maybe steal some Austrian grain to shore up French food supplies, and also, you know, spread revolutionary zeal. But what actually happened is that Prussia joined Austria in fighting the French. And then Louis encouraged the Prussians, which made him look like an enemy of the revolution, which, of course, he was. And as a result, the Assembly voted to suspend the monarchy, have new elections in which everyone could vote (as long as they were men), and create a new republican constitution. Soon, this Convention decided to have a trial for Louis XVI, who was found guilty and, by one vote, sentenced to die via guillotine. Which made it difficult for Austria and Prussia to restore him to the throne. Oh, it’s time for the open letter? [musical chairs undefeated champ rolls] An Open Letter to the Guillotine. But first, let’s see what’s in the secret compartment today. Oh, there’s nothing. Oh my gosh, Stan! Jeez. That’s not funny! [That's what Anne Boleyn said…] Dear Guillotine, I can think of no better example of Enlightenment thinking run amok. Dr. Joseph Guillotine, the inventor of the guillotine, envisioned it as an egalitarian way of dying. They said the guillotine was humane and it also made no distinction between rich or poor, noble or peasant. It killed equally. You were also celebrated for taking the torture out of execution. But I will remind you, you did not take the dying out of execution. [or have a self-cleaning function] Unfortunately for you, France hasn’t executed anyone since 1977. But you’ll be happy to know that the last legal execution in France was via guillotine. Plus, you’ve always got a future in horror movies. Best wishes, John Green The death of Louis XVI marks the beginning of The Terror, the best known or at least the most sensational phase of the revolution. I mean, if you can kill the king, you can kill pretty much anyone, which is what the government did under the leadership of the Committee of Public Safety (Motto: We suck at protecting public safety) led by Maximilien Robespierre. The terror saw the guillotining of 16,000 enemies of the revolution including Marie “I never actually said Let them eat cake” Antoinette and Maximilien Robespierre himself, who was guillotined in the month of Thermidor in the year Two. Oh, right. So while France was broke and fighting in like nine wars, the Committee of Public Safety changed the measurements of time because, you know, the traditional measurements are so irrational and religion-y. So they renamed all the months and decided that every day would have 10 hours and each hour 100 minutes. And then, after the Terror, the revolution pulled back a bit and another new constitution was put into place, this one giving a lot more power to wealthy people. At this point, France was still at war with Austria and Britain, wars that France ended up winning, largely [lol] thanks to a little corporal named Napoleon Bonaparte. The war was backdrop to a bunch of coups and counter coups that I won’t get into right now because they were very complicated, but the last coup that we’ll talk about, in 1799, established Napoleon Bonaparte as the First Consul of France. And it granted him almost unlimited executive power under yet another constitution. By which he presumably meant that France’s government had gone all the way from here to here to here. As with the American revolution, it’s easy to conclude that France’s revolution wasn’t all that revolutionary. I mean, Napoleon was basically an emperor and, in some ways, he was even more of an absolute monarch than Louis XVI had been. Gradually the nobles came back to France, although they had mostly lost their special privileges. The Catholic Church returned, too, although much weaker because it had lost land and the ability to collect tithes. And when Napoleon himself fell, France restored the monarchy, and except for a four-year period, between 1815 and 1870, France had a king who was either a Bourbon or a Bonaparte. Now, these were no longer absolute monarchs who claimed that their right to rule came from God; they were constitutional monarchs of the kind that the revolutionaries of 1789 had originally envisioned. But the fact remains that France had a king again, and a nobility, and an established religion and it was definitely not a democracy or a republic. And perhaps this is why the French Revolution is so controversial and open to interpretation. Some argue the revolution succeeded in spreading enlightenment ideals even if it didn’t bring democracy to France. Others argue that the real legacy of the Revolution wasn’t the enhancement of liberty, but of state power. Regardless, I’d argue that the French Revolution was ultimately far more revolutionary than its American counterpart. I mean, in some ways, America never had an aristocracy, but in other ways it continued to have one— the French enlightenment thinker, Diderot, felt that Americans should “fear a too unequal division of wealth resulting in a small number of opulent citizens and a multitude of citizens living in misery.” And the American Revolution did nothing to change that polarization of wealth. What made the French Revolution so radical was its insistence on the universality of its ideals. I mean, look at Article 6 of the Declaration of the Rights of Man and Citizen: “Law is the expression of the general will. Every citizen has a right to participate personally, or through his representative, in its foundation. It must be the same for all, whether it protects or punishes.” Those are radical ideas, that the laws come from citizens, not from kings or gods, and that those laws should apply to everyone equally. That’s a long way from Hammurabi— and in truth, it’s a long way from the slaveholding Thomas Jefferson. In the 1970s, Chinese President Zhou Enlai was asked what the affects of the French Revolution had been. And he said, “It’s too soon to say.” And in a way, it still is. The French Revolution asked new questions about the nature of people’s rights and the derivation of those rights. And we’re still answering those questions and sorting through how our answers should shape society today. —must government be of the people to be for the people? Do our rights derive from nature or from God or from neither? And what are those rights? As William Faulkner said, “The past is never dead. It’s not even past.” Thanks for watching. I’ll see you next week. Crash Course is produced and directed by Stan Muller, our script supervisor is Danica Johnson, the show is written by my high school history teacher Raoul Meyer and myself, our graphics team is Thought Bubble, [If you <3 our graphics, Blame Canada!] and we are ably interned by Meredith Danko. [dba: The Interness or MTVCS] Last week’s phrase of the week was "Giant Tea Bag" [seriously, it totally was] If you want to suggest future phrases of the week, or guess at this week's you can do so in comments, where you can also ask questions about today’s video that will be answered by our team of historians. Thanks for watching Crash Course, and as we say in my hometown, don’t forget, Metal Ball, I Can Hear You. [slides out like an ace photobomber] [music outro] [music outro]

Background

In the spring of 1796 the Royal Navy enjoyed naval supremacy in the East Indies, the French Navy presence limited to two frigates loosely blockaded in Port Louis on Île de France.^[1] In April 1796 reinforcements were sent from Rochefort comprising four frigates commanded by Contre-amiral Pierre César Charles de Sercey.^[2] The squadron avoided the blockade and arrived at Île de France in July and sailed eastwards during the summer, intending to raid British trading ports in the East Indies. On 9 September the squadron was intercepted and driven off by a British squadron off the northeastern coast of Sumatra, sheltering in Batavia over the winter.^[3] In January Sercey sailed once more, encountering on 28 January in the Bali Strait a fleet of six East Indiamen bound to China from Colombo. In the ensuing Bali Strait Incident the British commander managed to deceive Sercey into believing that the fleet was made up of warships, the French admiral retreating back to Île de France.^[4]

Sercey's flagship during these operations was the 40-gun frigate Forte. Forte, commanded by the elderly Captain Hubert Le Loup de Beaulieu, had been built in 1794 based on the hull and frame of a ship of the line: the frigate weighed 1,400 tons bm, the largest purpose-built frigate at sea. The main battery of Forte consisted of 28 24-pounder long guns, only the second frigate ever built (after Pomone) which could manage such a heavy armament.^[5] This was augmented by fourteen 8-pounder long guns on the upper deck and eight 36-pounder carronades on the quarterdeck, totaling 52 heavy cannon complemented by eight 1-pounder swivel guns.^[5] Uniquely, the sides of the ship were lined with cork matting to prevent splinters while the more common precaution had been taken of stringing netting over the deck to protect the crew from falling debris.^[6] The ship was however weakened by an ill-disciplined crew, and Sercey had expressed doubts about the ability of the aged Beaulieu.^[7]

After Sercey returned to Île de France his squadron broke up. Four ships were sent back to France in 1797 and 1798 as Île de France could no longer supply repairs, manpower or provisions in support of Sercey.^[8] This dispersal of the squadron was encouraged by the Colonial Assembly of Île de France and Governor Malartic neither of whom were well-disposed to the Directory then ruling France. With his remaining crews becoming rebellious, Sercey sent Forte and Prudente on a commerce raiding operation during the autumn of 1798, during which they achieved some success in the Bay of Bengal.^[9] By the time this force returned to Île de France Sercey had sailed to Batavia, leaving instructions for Forte and Prudente to follow him. Malartic countermanded this order, seizing Prudente and selling the frigate to a privateer concern and ordering Forte to operate independently in the Bay of Bengal in the autumn of 1798. Sercey was furious, but could do nothing to alter Malartic's arrangements.^[9]

At the start of 1799 the Bay of Bengal was largely undefended. The British naval commander, Rear-Admiral Peter Rainier, had taken most of his ships westwards to the Red Sea to participate in opposition to Napoleon Bonaparte's campaign in Egypt, leaving only a single frigate to protect trade shipping in the region.^[10] This ship was the 40-gun HMS Sybille, a large, powerful ship captured from the French at the Battle of Mykonos in 1794.^[11] Weighing more than 1,000 tons bm and with a maindeck battery of 28 18-pounder long guns supplemented by six 9-pounder long guns and fourteen 32-pounder cannonades, Sybille was a formidable ship, but significantly weaker than the massive Forte.^[12] Many of Sybille's crew had fallen ill while the ship had been stationed at Calcutta, leaving her undermanned.^[13] To compensate, the crew had been augmented by a detachment from the frigate HMS Fox and soldiers from the Scotch Brigade.^[14] In command was Captain Edward Cooke, who had distinguished himself early in the war by negotiating the surrender of the French Mediterranean port city of Toulon in 1793. This action, under threat of execution by the Republican faction in the city, led to the siege of Toulon and the destruction of almost half of the French Mediterranean Fleet.^[15]^[16] In January 1798 Cooke and Sybille had participated in the successful Raid on Manila.^[17]

Battle

Forte's raiding cruise initially proved devastating. The usual raiding season had passed,^[13] and the shipping transiting the mouth of the Hooghly River was unprepared for Beaulieu's assault.^[18] In rapid succession Forte seized the local-trading country ships Recovery, Yarmouth, Chance and Surprise.^[19] Beaulieu was forced to send 143 sailors away as prize crews, reducing the complement on Forte by a quarter.^[6] Beaulieu had also only just missed a major convoy from the Cape Colony, escorted only by HMS Sceptre.^[13] The Canton East Indiamen Endeavour and Lord Mornington were taken off Balasore on 28 February, after coming under fire from Forte's bow chasers. The gunfire attracted the attention of Sybille, which was returning to Calcutta after transporting Lord Mornington, Governor-General of India, to Madras.^[19] Sybille had sailed on 19 February with instructions to search for Forte.^[12] On 23 February Cooke had encountered a cartel sent to Madras by Beaulieu and brought the ship into Balasore on 26 February. At 20:30, while sailing to the southeast, flashes were seen on the northeast horizon. Although this was initially dismissed as lightning, it continued until 21:00, convincing Cooke that it had another cause. Turning to the northeast, he took Sybille to investigate.^[20]

At 21:30 Forte and the captured merchant ships were visible from Sybille, Forte brilliantly illuminated in the tropical night. Cooke brought Sybille westwards in order to take the weather gage before wearing and bearing down on the French ship, under a light wind from the southwest.^[21] Despite the illumination on the French ship, Sybille's sails were clearly identified on Forte but Beaulieu gave no orders to prepare for action: he seems to have thought that the sails belonged to an approaching East Indiaman despite the concerns of his officers,^[7] or that he wished to lure Sybille close enough to ensure its defeat in the coming engagement.^[21]

At approximately midnight Forte slowly moved to the lee of Sybille, firing a small broadside at long range at the British ship's bow, accompanied by scattered fire from the French prize crews on the merchant ships. Apart from damage to the jib, Sibylle remained unharmed, advancing silently and in darkness.^[22] French fire continued with little effect, allowing Cooke to bring Sybille within 25 yards (23 m) of the stern of Forte at 12:45 and fire a raking broadside, followed by a second as the British ship pulled alongside the French frigate.^[20] The cannon were complemented by musketry from the soldiers aboard, which swept the exposed deck of Forte. The damage to the French ship was catastrophic: guns were smashed from their carriages and dozens of men killed and more wounded, the dead including Beaulieu and his first lieutenant.^[23]

Despite their losses the French survivors returned to the remaining guns, although most of their first broadside scattered into the sea,^[20] and at least some of their shot was misdirected towards the merchant ships.^[24] The French gunners aimed too high however, most of their shot tearing through the rigging of Sybille while the British broadsides slammed into the hull of Forte. This problem was partly attributed to the French gun quoins which had been replaned three days earlier, exacerbated by the lack of suitable gun crews which meant that many of the upperdeck guns were unmanned.^[24] The French gunners were also more used to firing warning shots at distant merchant ships and may not have realised that their guns needed to be depressed for combat at point blank range.^[25]

For the next hour and a half the frigates poured shot into one another at close range, until Cooke was struck by grape shot at 01:30 on 1 March, replaced by his first lieutenant Lucius Hardyman. For another hour the action continued, French fire gradually slackening until it stopped completely at 02:30, by which time only four French guns remained operational.^[24] Hardyman hailed to ask whether Forte had surrendered but the French did not reply and he ordered another broadside. A second hail also brought no response but sailors were seen attempting to repair the rigging on Forte.^[26] Concerned that the French were attempting to escape, Hardyman concentrated his fire on the masts of Forte, bringing them crashing down one by one until at 03:00 Forte was completely dismasted.^[23]^[27] With all resistance ended, British merchant prisoners on board Forte emerged from below decks and hailed Sybille, requesting a boat be sent across so that British Lieutenant Nicholas Manger could formally take the surrender of the French ship.^[6]

Combatant summary

In this table, "Guns" refers to all cannon carried by the ship, including the maindeck guns which were taken into consideration when calculating its rate, as well as any carronades carried aboard.^[28] Broadside weight records the combined weight of shot which could be fired in a single simultaneous discharge of an entire broadside.

Ship	Commander	Navy	Guns	Tons	Broadside weight	Complement	Casualties
Ship	Commander	Navy	Guns	Tons	Broadside weight	Complement	Killed	Wounded	Total
HMS Sybille	Captain Edward Cooke †		48	1091bm	503 pounds (228 kg)	371	5	17	22

Forte	Captain Hubert Le Loup de Beaulieu †		52	1401bm	610 pounds (280 kg)	c.370	65	c.80	c.145
Source: Clowes, p. 521

Aftermath

Damage to Forte was extensive. The stern and side facing Sybille had been beaten in by gunfire as more than 300 shot holes combined to form gaping holes in hull above the waterline. As well as the masts the bulkheads had been smashed apart and all deck furniture blasted to splinters.^[23] 65 of the crew had been killed, including Captain Beaulieu, and approximately 80 wounded, more than a third of the crew listed as casualties; many of the wounded later died from the effects of amputation.^[26] Damages to Sybille were considerably lighter: only six shot had struck the hull in the entire battle: one gun was dismounted, but the worst damage was to Cooke's cabin where a round shot had destroyed most of his furniture.^[26] In addition, most of the damage to the masts and rigging proved superficial. Just five crew were killed outright, with another 17 wounded, the latter including Cooke. The British captain had been struck in the left arm, the shot exiting near his spine, with additional injuries to the chest and right arm.^[29] He eventually died after a long and agonising deterioration at Calcutta on 25 May 1799 and was buried under a monument with full military honours.^[16] A memorial was subsequently placed in Westminster Abbey in his memory.^[30]

In the initial aftermath of victory, Hardyman attempted to lure the captured merchant ships close to Sybille by raising the French tricolor over the British ensign. Lord Mornington took the bait and closed with the British ship. However, when Sybille gave chase the prizes fled, the fatigued British crew unable to effectively pursue after losing their damaged cross-jack yard.^[31] Forte had lost its anchors in the battle and was consequently lashed to Sybille. Repairs to the combatants took two days, particularly the fitting of jury masts on Forte, before Hardyman was comfortable making the journey up the Hooghly to Calcutta for more permanent repairs.^[32] Hardyman was commended for the victory, promoted to commander and then later post captain. Forte was subsequently taken into service in the Royal Navy under the same name as a 44-gun fifth rate frigate with Hardyman in command.^[32] Forte continued in service in the Indian Ocean under Hardyman until June 1801, when the frigate was wrecked on the Arabian Red Sea coast near Jeddah.^[33] Nearly five decades after the battle, the Admiralty recognised the action with the clasp "SYBILLE 28 FEBRUARY 1799" attached to the Naval General Service Medal, awarded upon application to all British participants still living in 1847.^[34]

The battle has been considered by British historians as an unusual engagement marked by extremely disciplined fire from Sybille, the product of unusually extensive gunnery training by Cooke and complemented by the musket fire of the soldiers which affected the accuracy of the French gunners.^[35] Naval historian William James wrote that "the action of the Sibylle [sic] and Forte was gallantly fought on both sides, but skilfully fought on one side only; the weaker side, and, by the due exercise of that skill, the one which was ultimately successful.^[31]

Citations

^ Parkinson, p.75
^ Parkinson, p.98
^ Clowes, p.503
^ Parkinson, p.106
^ ^a ^b James, p.326
^ ^a ^b ^c James, p.329
^ ^a ^b Clowes, p.520
^ Parkinson, p.121
^ ^a ^b Parkinson, p.123
^ Parkinson, p.139.
^ Clowes, p.486.
^ ^a ^b James, p.325
^ ^a ^b ^c "No. 15166". The London Gazette. 6 August 1799. p. 787.
^ Henderson, p.55
^ Clowes, p.552
^ ^a ^b Cooke, Edward, Oxford Dictionary of National Biography, J. K. Laughton, (subscription required), Retrieved 25 May 2015
^ Henderson, p.53
^ Parkinson, p.124
^ ^a ^b Parkinson, p.125
^ ^a ^b ^c James, p.327
^ ^a ^b Henderson, p.58
^ Lardas, p.67
^ ^a ^b ^c Henderson, p.59
^ ^a ^b ^c Clowes, p.521
^ James, p.330
^ ^a ^b ^c James, p.328
^ Lardas, p.68
^ James, Vol.1, p.32
^ James, p.333
^ Parkinson, p.129
^ ^a ^b James, p.331
^ ^a ^b James, p.332
^ Grocott, p.112
^ "No. 20939". The London Gazette. 26 January 1849. pp. 236–245.
^ Henderson, p.60

References

Clowes, William Laird (1997) [1900]. The Royal Navy, A History from the Earliest Times to 1900, Volume V. Chatham Publishing. ISBN 1-86176-014-0.
Grocott, Terence (2002) [1997]. Shipwrecks of the Revolutionary & Napoleonic Era. Caxton Editions. ISBN 1-84067-164-5.
Henderson CBE, James (1994) [1970]. The Frigates. Leo Cooper. ISBN 0-85052-432-6.
James, William (2002) [1827]. The Naval History of Great Britain, Volume 2, 1797–1799. London: Conway Maritime Press. ISBN 0-85177-906-9.
Lardas, Mark (2013). British Frigate vs French Frigate 1793–1814. Oxford: Osprey Publishing. ISBN 978-1-78096-132-3.
Parkinson, C. Northcote (1954). War in the Eastern Seas, 1793–1815. London: George Allen & Unwin Ltd.

This page was last edited on 22 November 2023, at 14:15