Britain, as an island, has always depended on ships to move her troops to a theatre of war. On the outbreak of the Peninsular War, this meant transporting thousands of men to Portugal, along with all their equipment, and maintaining them there with supplies, food and monq. At one end of the scale, it involved massive organisation, whilst at the other, it provided the poor redcoat with some memorably uncomfortable experiences.

THE ORGANISATION

In 1794, the Transport Board was set up to hire merchant ships for naval and military service. The Board employed agents in all the major ports, responsible for the surveying and hiring of vessels. Suitable ships were chartered for an initial period of three to six months, at a rate of 19s. per month per ton in 1807, soon rising to 25s. This rate was later changed to 21s. for copper-sheathed hulls and 20s. unsheathed. The average merchant ship was rated about 250 tons, with larger 350 ton vessels converted into troop transports, carrying one soldier for every two tons. Crews consisted of five men and a boy for every hundred tons, with the attraction that men so employed were exempt from the press.

A vast number of ships of various types were thus pressed into service. To avoid confusion in official lists, they were given letters or numbers beside their tonnage, thus we find Matilda no.68, and Queen no. 415. The Benjamin and Mar, was designated KI, and was in the same convoy as SK Letters were probably used to avoid confusion with tonnages.

Efficiency

In 1809, 980 merchant ships were carrying troops and stores, over ten percent of British commercial capacity, with the great majority maintaining the army in the Peninsula. The Board of Ordnance, as in all things, made its own arrangements, but despite the vast complexity of the task, troops and stores were moved with a high degree of efficiency.

Whilst supply ships could fill their holds in the normal way, troop ships were often fitted out with cabins on the lower deck. These lined the sides of the hull, each accommodating three or four men in hammocks. NCOs had the fore- and aft cabins on each side, whibt officers lived aft. A sergeant was put in charge of the cabins, but the traditional enmity between Tar and Lobster was aggravated when the latter damaged the ship, became seasick, or just got in the way. Soldiers were not expected to work the ship, so were fed at two-thirds the seaman's allowance, wives three-quarters of that, and children half that of a woman.

This was perhaps the ideal but many memoirs dwell on the discomfort of travel by warship. A frigate of a thousand tons, or a 74 gun ship of over sixteen hundred, was capable of transporting a whole battalion, by the simple expedient of removing its guns, and fitting the lower deck with men. The French termed such a vessal, 'en flute', as her side presented a row of empty holes.

As an example, the Hindustan (54 guns), evacuated the whole 43rd Regiment, eight hundred strong, from Vigo. In 1814, the Dublin (74), carried five companies of the 95th and two of the 43rd home to Plymouth, the Rifles then transferred three companies to the frigate Fox (32), and two to the Dover (44), for passage to America. The frigate Meltpomene (44), carried three hundred men of the 71st to Lisbon, whilst in 1811, Victory (100) had the 36th Regiment, and ninety officers, including two brigadiers.

The journey time was entirely dependent upon weather conditions, two frigates carrying the 71st from Deal to Lisbon in just six days, and Lt. Col. William Tomkinson made 'an excellent passage', from Falmouth to Lisbon in eight days. However, the journey down Channel is against the prevailing south-westerly winds, and the Bay of Biscay is notorious for storms. Consequently, a ship might be detained in port, awaiting favourable wind for an indeterminate length of time, or battling storms with her lower deck full of seasick landlubbers.

Soldiers at Sea

Early on the morning of 18th July 1811, 10 officers and 370 men of the 7th Foot, including Lieutenant Robert Knowles, boarded the Matilda transport at Portsmouth. They were all in high spirits as the ship moved swiftly to Spithead to join a large fleet, bearing three thousand men to Portugal. Lieutenant William Swabey, of E troop RHA, had been on the Benjamin and Mary since 3rd July, and only sailed from Stokes Bay, Gosport, on the 27th. The convoy of about seventy ships assembled in the safety of the Solent. They set sail, but were forced to anchor in Yarmouth Roads when the wind dropped, and only passed the Needles on the 29th.

The fleet made good progress at first, but about noon the next day, they were becalmed on a choppy sea, and seasickness began to afflict Swabey's men. The wind picked up overnight, but died again during the day, bringing the prospect of a long and tedious voyage. On August 1st, the wind became unfavourable, and the sea increasingly rough, so that the commodore ordered the fleet to go about, and entered Falmouth harbour next morning.

They lay at Falmouth until early on August 9th, when they sailed on a rough sea and a NW wind. The next day found them tossing on a stormy sea, and those who were hardy enough to face food found it, and themselves thrown all over the decks. This was followed by two days of dead calm, and two of high winds, before they were again becalmed a hundred miles from Lisbon.

On August 18th, Swabey's diary record', 'Beating to windward with an adverse breeze, the last duck slaughtered, and the last ebb of patience gone'. They reached Lisbon on tbe 21st, disembarking next day, and curiously Knowles wrote home of a 'very good passage', with everyone in the best of health and little or no seasickness" It is hard to believe the two accounts are of the same convoy, and it is tempting to think that Matilda was a more seaworthy ship than Benjamin and Mary. Certainly, Knnowles believed her to be the finest transport in the fleet. In any case, perhaps Knowles' 35 days on board, including 17 at sea, was about average during the summer months, with only the vagaries of wind to cause delay.

Winter Voyages

A winter voyage was an entirely different kettle of fish, witness General Roben Long in January 1811. Long arrived at Portsmouth on 27th January, and supervised stowage of his horses on a transport ship, before boarding Victory, in expectation of sailing next day. The convoy was commanded by Admiral Sir Joseph Yorke in Vengeur. Victory weighed anchor at Spithead at 8.30 A.M. on the 30th, and beat against a strong SE wind for three hours to reach the convoy off Culver Cliff, where Admiral Yorke signalled the last chance to send mail ashore. Long cheerfully expected to be in the mouth of the Channel in one day, and off the Tagus in another three, but this proved to be pure wishful thinking. Yorke assembled the ships in two lines, and sailed on a fresh SE wind that afternoon.

The fleet lay to for four hours during the night, and the next day met up with the scattered ships of a convoy that had leh Spithead the day before. As the day progressed, the wind grew stronger and more westerly, until a sudden shift to NW took the whole fleet aback and caused some damage aloft. High winds continued all night, with the Victory close-reefed under fore- and missen-topsails and main storm-stays all. The morning of February 1st brought no respite, and Yorke ordered his fleet to bear up for shelter in Torbay from a point SW of the Lizard, tantalisingly near to leaving the Channel. They reached Torbay that evening, and rested gratefully in the relatively calm waters. No one was allowed ashore, as the ships had to be ready to leave as soon as the wind became favourable, which could be in an hour or a week. The officers could nevertheless pass their time by visiting friends on other ships.

On the morning of February 5th, the fleet weighed with a heavy sea, and a strong southeasterly wind. Aher eight hours trying to beat out of the harbour against it, they returned with lost anchors, split sails and sprung masts, knowing that much more of it would mean a return to Portsmouth for repairs. When the wind shifted SW, it became favourable to leave Torbay, but not to sail down-Channel, and the next day added a thick fog to their problem.

After two unsuccessful attempts, the fleet finally escaped Torbay on the night of 15th February in a howling gale. Another gale struck on the night of the 23rd, off Finisterre, blasting them back across Biscay, and the storm-tossed ships only reached Lisbon on March 3rd, 34 days after leaving Portsmouth.

Time on Their Hands

Whatever the conditions, both officers and men found themselves with plenty of time on their hands. Many passed the hours reading, writing letters or keeping a journal, whilst fishing, whist and even embroidery had their devotees. If detained in harbour, no-one was allowed ashore, but officers might be able to visit and dine with friends on other vessals. On a calm Sunday, the men might be paraded in full kit, depending on the deck space available.

Such supply and troopships always travelled in convoy with an armed naval escort, although there were no hard and fast rules about its size. Some ships, such as Vengeur, and the frigate Melpomene, seem to have been on fairly regular escort duties, but any ship going to a foreign station might do this job on the way. Strict convoy discipline was enforced, and any captain who did not comply was liable to a shot across the bows and a hefty fine. There were plenty of French ships at sea, not to mention Americans, Spaniards, privateers and Algerian pirates at different periods, who would happily snap up an unarmed storeship, although for a troopship going to Portugal, the main enemy remained the weather.

Unloading was often a backbreaking job. A large ship of the line would not normally be able to dock, but would anchor off shore, and the troops be ferried ashore in ship's boats. This could mean also requireitioning all the small boats in harbour when a large convoy came into Passajes. Smaller transports could moor at a jetty, but those at Lisbon could only handle one ship per tide each, which caused much delay. Horses were generally lifted off by sling onto a boat, jetty or gently shelving beach, although unlucky ones had to swim for it.

Thus, Tommy Atkins reached the Peninsula, bored, seasick, bruised and perhaps all three. Setting his feet on dry ground, he marched to join WeUington's army, and a whole new set of adventures, perhaps hoping the worst part was over.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Lavery, B. Nelson's Navy (1990)
many soldier biographies were considered, but the main sources were:
Knowles, Sir L (ed.) - The War in the Peninsula
some letters of Lt. Robert Knowles, 7th, or Royal Fusiliers. (1913).
McGuffie T.H. (ed.) - Peninsular Cavalry General (1811-13).
The Correspondence of Lt.Gen. RB Long. (1951).
Swabey, Lt. . - Diary of Campaigns in the Peninsula for the years 1811, 1812 and 1813.