Chapter XXV: Part 25

The French and Russian squadrons played their part gallantly and well. “The conduct of my brother admirals, Count Heiden and the Chevalier de Rigny, throughout,” wrote Sir Edward to the Duke of Clarence, “was admirable and highly exemplary.” In the British division the _Genoa_ and _Albion_ took their stations with magnificent precision, and maintained a most destructive fire throughout the contest. The _Glasgow_, _Cambrian_, and _Talbot_ followed the example set by the intrepid Frenchman who commanded the _Armide_, which effectually destroyed the leading frigate of the enemy’s line and silenced the batteries ashore. Captain Fellows, in the _Dartmouth_, succeeded in frustrating the designs of the fireships stationed near the mouth of the harbour, and preserved the _Syrène_ from being burnt. The battle was maintained with unabated fury for above four hours, and owing to the crowded formation of the Ottoman fleet, and the close quarters at which the allied ships engaged them, the havoc and bloodshed were prodigious. As the Turkish vessels were one after another disabled, their crews set them on fire and deserted them, and the lurid scene was rendered infinitely more terrible and weird by the flaming ships and incessant explosions among the huddled and shattered craft. The resistance of the enemy then began to sensibly slacken. By the time that night had closed down upon the scene, the Turkish fleet was so crippled as to cease any longer to be a menace to the violation of the Treaty. “When I found,” wrote Sir Edward Codrington, “that the boasted Ottoman’s word of honour was made a sacrifice to wanton, savage destruction, and that a base advantage was taken of our reliance upon Ibrahim’s good faith, I own I felt a desire to punish the offenders.” And most terribly punished they were. Never did British arms bear part in a more complete and decisive victory. When the dusk of the Oriental evening, obscured into a pall-like gloom by the dense banks of smoke, descended over the terrific spectacle, the enemy’s cannonade had grown feeble and scattered, and presently ceased altogether. Their vessels continued to blaze and to explode. Out of the proud fleet which in the noontide of that day had floated serenely upon the blue waters of Navarin harbour sixty ships were totally destroyed, and the remainder driven ashore in a shattered condition, with the exception of the _Leone_, four corvettes, six brigs, and four schooners, which remained afloat after the battle. The carnage was frightful. According to the statistics furnished by Monsieur Letellier, the French instructor to the Egyptian navy, to Commander Richards, of the _Pelorus_, the enemy’s losses amounted to 3,000 killed and 1,109 wounded. The defeat, indeed, practically amounted to annihilation. At ten o’clock on the night of the battle, Sir Edward Codrington was writing an account of the victory to his wife: “Well, my dear, the Turks have fought, and fought well too, and we have annihilated their fleet. We have lost poor Smith, Captain Bell, R.M., and many good men.... I am entirely unhurt, but the _Asia_ is quite a wreck, having had her full allowance of the work.” The admiral, however, had a succession of marvellous escapes, and, indeed, almost seems to have borne a charmed life throughout the battle. Mr. Lewis, the boatswain of the _Asia_, while speaking to him early in the action, was struck dead. Mr. Smith, the master, was also shot down whilst talking with him. Sir Edward was a tall man, and in his uniform must have made a conspicuous figure upon the _Asia’s_ deck. Instead of his cocked hat he wore a round hat, which afforded better shade to his eyes; this was pierced in two places by bullet-holes. His coat-sleeve, which chanced to be rather loose, had two bullet-holes in it just above the wrist. A ball struck the watch in his fob and shivered it, but left him uninjured. Tahir Pacha afterwards admitted to Mr. Kerigan, on board the _Blonde_, that he himself posted a company of riflemen to aim at the British admiral and shoot him if they could.

The combined fleets quitted the harbour of Navarino on the 25th of October, having tarried awhile, unmolested, to repair damages. They were suffered to depart by the Turks without the firing of a single shot, although it had been quite expected that the batteries would open upon them as they passed the harbour mouth. On the 3rd of November they arrived at Malta. Here they spent some considerable time in refitting. For his services Sir Edward Codrington received the Grand Cross of the Bath; the King of France conferred upon him the Grand Cross of the Military Order of St. Louis; and the Emperor Nicholas of Russia, in an autograph letter, bestowed upon him the rare honour of wearing the second class of the Military Order of St. George.

Navarino was fought without any declaration of war, and the news of hostilities created great surprise in England. Many questions were asked in Parliament as to whether the British Commander-in-Chief had done wisely to treat the Turks as enemies, and there was much vacillation displayed by the weak Government--Lord Goderich’s--then in power. In the following June Sir Edward Codrington received a letter of recall from Lord Aberdeen, dated at the Foreign Office, London, May, 1828. It was a most elaborate document of twenty paragraphs, embodying a number of charges of misconception and actual disobedience of his instructions, and concluded: “His Majesty’s Government have found themselves under the necessity of requesting the Lord High Admiral to relieve you in the command of the squadron in the Mediterranean.” He left Malta for England on September 11th, amid the hearty regret of his companions-in-arms, and arrived home in the _Warspite_ on the 7th of October, 1828. A revulsion of public feeling had meanwhile taken place during the interval--indignation at his recall and general reprobation of the injustice with which he had been treated. The Duke of Wellington’s ministry was now in office. His Grace summoned Sir Edward to an interview, but seems to have behaved in a very cavilling manner. The pride and sense of honour of the fine old naval officer were deeply injured by the treatment he was receiving from a country to whose annals he had just added fresh laurels. His resentment of the injustice done him is well illustrated by the following anecdote:--About a year after he had been recalled, Sir Edward Codrington was present at a party given by Prince Leopold, when the Duke of Wellington came up to him and said: “I have made arrangements by which I am enabled to offer you a pension of £800 for your life.” The admiral’s answer was ready, and immediate: “I am obliged to your Grace, but I do not feel myself in a position to accept it.... I cannot receive such a thing myself while my poor fellows who fought under me at Navarin have had no head-money, and have not even been repaid for their clothes which were destroyed in the battle.” The duke remonstrated, said there was no precedent for head-money, and insisted that, as the pension was bestowed by the king, Sir Edward could not refuse it. But refuse it he did, stoutly and resolutely. Shortly afterwards one of the duke’s political friends inquired: “What are you going to do with Codrington?” “Do with him!” answered the duke, “what are you to do with a man who won’t take a pension?” But time rights most things; and Sir Edward Codrington lived to see full honour accorded to him, and those who had fought under him at the battle of Navarino.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Shadwell’s “Life of Lord Clyde,” p. 33.

[2] The heavier armament of most of the Austrian ships consisted of smooth-bore 48-pounders. New rifled guns of larger calibre were being made for the Austrian fleet by Krupp at Essen, but when war became probable the Prussian Government stopped the delivery of them. On the other hand, one of the Italian ships carried 300-pounder Armstrong guns, mounted in a turret, and some of the other ironclads had 150-pounders in their armament.

[3] The _Affondatore_ was a new ship built in the Thames just before the war. A correspondent of the _Times_ who saw her at Cherbourg, where she called on her way down Channel, wrote that she looked sufficiently formidable to destroy the whole Austrian ironclad fleet singlehanded.

[4] For an account of many striking incidents of the march, some of our readers may be glad to be referred to the graphic narrative of Sergeant Arthur V. Palmer, of the 79th Highlanders, in the _Nineteenth Century_ for March, 1890, entitled “A Battle Described from the Ranks,” and to the controversy to which it gave rise in ensuing numbers of the same publication.

[5] Now Sir George White, Commander-in-Chief in India.

[6] “La Guerre de la Pologne.”

[7] There is a slight inaccuracy here. The Gorze road runs into the main road to Verdun at Rezonville.

[8] It was known that a number of French officers were in the enemy’s ships, and to these Admiral de Rigny addressed a letter of warning.

Transcriber’s Notes:

1. Obvious printers’, punctuation and spelling errors have been corrected silently.

2. Some hyphenated and non-hyphenated versions of the same words have been retained as in the original.

3. Italics are shown as _xxx_.