Chapter 14: The Expedition of the Thousand (April - May, 1860)

The last shot of the ten-gun salute rang out and Charles watched as Fanshawe’s White Ensign was lowered from Marlborough’s main mast. He was standing on the quarterdeck of his flagship in his Nº1 uniform, watching the change of command of the Mediterranean Fleet. Vice Admiral Sir William Martin, Bt, KCB, had arrived the day before in the monthly steam liner and he was not losing any time taking over the fleet a day later on this Thurday, April 19, 1860.

Martin was in fact a cousin of Sir Arthur Fanshawe — his mother was Fanshawe’s aunt — and the son of the late Admiral of the Fleet Sir Thomas Byam Martin. Charles had yet to meet him, but he was ten years Charles’s senior and had held a number of commands in the previous over three decades. He had served as First Sea Lord under Pakingham before getting the Mediterranean Fleet.

Now, his Red Ensign rose at Marlborough’s main mast, and the salute from his flagship rolled over Grand Harbour. Charles nodded to Captain Burlington to be ready as Colossus would have to follow suit. Not surprisingly, the gun crews were ready, and the upper deck guns discharged at two-second intervals as prescribed.

Goliath was next and then followed by the other line-of-battle ships. The whole ceremony took twenty minutes and cost the tax-paying British public almost fifty pounds.

Once the command change was effected, signal flags rose from the flagship, inviting the captains and Charles to a reception in the Marlborough. That, too, was expected, and Charles’s barge was ready. The two cable lengths were covered quickly, and then Charles climbed up the Jacob’s ladder with all the dignity he could muster. There was a new face at the port, a captain who introduced himself as Captain Oliver Danby, the new chief of staff, and led Charles aft towards the admiral’s cabin where he was received by his new superior.

“Welcome aboard, Sir Charles!” Martin greeted him nicely. “It is good to finally meet you in person after reading your reports these last years.”

“Welcome to the Fleet, Sir William,” Charles answered politely. “I am proud to serve under your command!”

“Not chagrined over losing the acting command of the Fleet?” Martin smiled.

“I never expected to fill in for Sir Arthur. It was exciting to command the Fleet in his stead, but I shall be just as happy reverting to the command of the van, Sir William,” Charles answered honestly.

“Splendid! I have plans to reform the organisation and discipline in the Mediterranean Fleet, also stimulated by Arthur’s and your reports, and I shall welcome your input.”

“I shall serve as best I can, Sir William.”

“My cousin tells me that your wife and family are here?”

“Yes. It was a grand opportunity since I am also responsible for the dockyard.”

Here, Martin chuckled. “According to Chauncer, you drive a hard bargain, my dear Sir Charles, but Arthur was very pleased with your conduct and I expect the same. You propose a steam yard here in Valetta?”

“Yes, Sir William. When Goliath and Colossus suffered boiler failures, it took three months to get them back to seaworthiness. That may be too long in a critical situation.”

“A good point, Sir Charles. I expect that we shall confer on that and other points in the coming days and weeks.”

“With pleasure, Sir William!” Charles replied.

Then, Captain Danby ushered in the captains, and Martin greeted them individually before asking them all to join him at the table. Charles was seated opposite Martin, allowing them to enter into a light conversation. Most of the captains had been hosted once or more at the Casa Leoni, and Charles knew them quite well. Since Martin needed to be acquainted with them, he held back therefore, answering politely when asked, but careful not to upstage the new commander-in-chief. Only when Martin was familiar with all his guests did Charles take a more active part in the discussions.

When the dinner company broke, Martin asked Charles to stay a little longer, and once alone in the cabin, Martin was ready to talk about his plans.

Fanshawe and Charles’s assessment of the poor compatibility of steam ships and sail-only men o’war had impressed Martin, and Charles’s recent experiences with forming a core fleet of steam-driven ships had confirmed the earlier assessment. Martin and the First Lord, Pakingham, had reached agreement to either replace the sail-only ships or to convert them to steam. For this, Charles would likely get his wish to add a steam shop to the dockyard, also allowing the Malta Naval Station to handle steam conversions. This would happen within the next months, and Charles nodded with satisfaction.

In the meantime, the separation of steamships and sailing frigates would be maintained, with the sail squadron being commanded by a commodore to be appointed shortly. Those ships would sail on patrols but not be part of the fleet’s battle line. Again, Charles nodded, pleased that his views were taken seriously.

Next, Martin proposed to test and develop new tactics of engagement with the steam-powered battle ships. Their independence of the wind direction made some of the tried tactics obsolete. Charles could even argue that the windward position had the disadvantage of blocking the view of opposing ships in the smoke, but they decided that this would not be decisive. However, a disadvantage of the windward position in strong winds, the flooding of the lower gun deck ports, was now gone as steam driven ships were no longer lying over to leeward.

The threat of incendiary shot from Paixhans type guns against wooden ships would also have to be addressed. The Admiralty was halting all construction of wooden men of war and instead favoured ironclad men of war. These would require iron hulls to reduce weight, and ironclads would have to be newly built. To this end, two newly designed, iron-clad frigates, HMS Warrior and HMS Black Prince, were currently under construction and expected to enter service in the following year.

The current explosive shells had a poor penetrating power and could be neutralised by an inch of sheeting, but guns were evolving rapidly and would in turn necessitate more solid armouring. The Mediterranean Fleet was expected to conduct testing of armour plating, and the dockyard would have to produce vessels with wrought iron sides for gunnery trials.

Charles realised that the next months would be rather exciting for him. To develop new tactics, to experiment with ironclad ships, would involve him with shaping the future Navy, and he made sure to convey that he would be eager to contribute.

It was late afternoon before the two naval enthusiasts parted ways for the day, but they agreed to continue their discussions and planning in the next days.

Returning to the Casa Leoni, he could not hide his enthusiasm over the new role he would play, and at dinner he told Suzanne and Paulina all about it. Both understood some of the necessary tests and changes on an intellectual level, but where he was enthusiastic, his wives were simply indulging him, not being steeped in naval thinking. However, both insisted that he should invite Sir William and his wife to spend a Sunday in the gardens of the Casa Leoni. With spring in full bloom, it was indeed a splendid idea, and it would give the women a chance to meet Charles’s new superior.

Over the next days, Charles was very busy conferring with both Martin and Captain Waters. With the former, he specified the planning of the various activities, and with the latter, he tried to identify a ship to test iron plating. In the end, the only viable candidate was the hulked Druid, as she had the necessary size and tonnage to carry the iron armour. Since she had been stripped of her armament, she would not be too top heavy with wrought iron sides.

Of course, the orphanage would have to move out. Here, Captain Waters suggested to use the ship sloop Larne of 18 guns, built in the 1820s. She was currently laid up and her ordnance had been removed in anticipation of her being broken up as soon as the orders would be approved in London. She was smaller than Druid, but still large enough for the children. It would take some time to decide on her final destination, and by then, the tests with Druid would be finished. Charles gave Waters orders to proceed with the plan after conferring with Martin.

By then, reports came back from the Sicilian coast. The peasants, but also large parts of the urban population were now revolting against the rule of King Francis II, and the royal troops were seemingly unable to quell the uprising.

The next piece of news arrived two weeks later. The famed republican leader Guiseppe Garibaldi, the hero of Lombardy, was at the head of an army of volunteers, the Red Shirts, bound for Sicily. They were to embark on two shanghaied steamships at Genoa, and following his instructions from London, Admiral Martin decided to give them an armed escort. The British Government wanted a friendly ruler over southern Italy, and King Victor Emmanuel of Piedmont-Sardinia was far preferable to Francis II.

It was May 1 when Charles received orders to take Colossus and Goliath and escort the Piemonte and Lombardo to Sicily. There he would be joined by more British ships. He was to secure their landing on the Sicilian west coast and to prevent the Sicilian Navy from interfering. This could well mean a naval battle, as Charles realised immediately, and accordingly he updated his will and made all necessary arrangements for his family before he boarded his flagship.

On May 2, the squadron sailed from Valetta and steamed on a northward course, reaching Genoa after a mere three days, in time to watch the embarkation of the Mille, the Thousand as Garibaldi’s Red Shirts were called.

A day later, on May 5, the small flotilla started on their journey south. The two merchant men could not keep the same pace as the two battle ships with their revised engines, and they sailed south at a mere six knots, with Colossus and her sister ship under sail to conserve coal.

One evening, on May 7, Charles felt obliged to invite Garibaldi and his officers to dinner in his admiral’s cabin. The fare he could offer was mostly Maltese, as was his personal cook, but he had also English produce from his own lands served, shipped to Malta regularly for him and his family.

Having foreseen the necessity of exchanging gifts, he presented the General with an Adams revolver pistol in 0.442 caliber, a gift that was well received. Not to be outdone, the Italian gifted Charles a fine Austrian sword, one he had won personally on the battlefield. Garibaldi ate and drank sparingly, projecting an aura of austerity; but he certainly commanded the loyalty and admiration of his officers. Charles was very impressed by his guest, and he used the opportunity — and the services of an interpreter — to settle a few details of the planned expedition.

The flotilla rendezvoused with the other ships sent by Admiral Martin in a small bay off the island of Favignana and anchored there to coordinate the landing of the troops and the subsequent steps. The Navy of the Two Sicilies had three small frigates stationed in Marsala, but those would be helpless to prevent Garibaldi’s landing in the face of Charles’s two second-rates. There was also a representative of the Foreign Office, a Mr. Beaumont, who conveyed the latest directives from London. He had a number of Italian-speaking men with him who would have to be landed, too. Those were secret agents, sent from London to undermine the morale of the Sicilian troops by means of bribing senior officers of the poorly disciplined Army of the Two Sicilies.

On the morning of May 11, Charles led British ships into the harbour of Marsala, having them anchor in close proximity to the three Neapolitan frigates, in effect hemming them in. Only then did the two Genoese steamers follow in. The Neapolitan captains were helpless against the landing of the Mille, and within two hours, Marsala was in the hands of General Garibaldi.

Charles then sent word to the Neapolitan ships assuring them of his non-belligerent intentions and offering them to leave the harbour in peace. He felt a little sorry for the navy officers who had to leave their own harbour in ignominy, but his orders were clear, and he could chalk up the capture of Marsala.

A few of Mr. Beaumont’s spies were landed next, but in the next morning — Garibaldi’s men had already moved out of Marsala — the ships weighed anchor to head for Palermo, Garibaldi’s first major target.

The flotilla of ships sailed up the Sicilian west coast and rounded Cape San Vito. Heading south along the coast, they anchored near Castellamare, a marginally fortified place, where some 400 Piedmontese soldiers, officially deserters of King Victor Emmanuel’s army, were landed. They were to head for the small town of Alcamo, to provide flanking support for the Mille. The flotilla stayed anchored to await news of Garibaldi’s progress.

Mr. Beaumont had shifted to Colossus to “advise” Charles of what London expected of the Navy. As the man seemed to be well provided with all sorts of intelligence, Charles simply did what he was told, but he made certain that Captain Burlington or Mr. Anson were within hearing whenever the next steps were “discussed”.

Everything seemed to go according to plan though when six days after the landing at Marsala, reports reached them at their anchorage that Garibaldi’s Mille had won a victory at a place called Calatafimi, against a twofold superiority of Neapolitan troops. Mr. Beaumont looked very satisfied, commenting that the commanding Neapolitan officer must have been reasonable enough to choose British money over loyalty to his king. To Charles, the whole affair began to look as if Mr. Beaumont held the strings of most of the puppets involved in this campaign.

In the meantime, the small sloop Kingfisher had landed three of Beaumont’s men at a beach 10 miles to the East, from which they could easily reach Palermo, presumably to contact and bribe receptive royal officers in Sicily’s largest city and to alert the leaders of the popular insurrection to Garibaldi’s approach.

On May 24, the ships sailed for Palermo, arriving there in the next morning and anchoring out of gunshot range from the fortifications. There were a half dozen Neapolitan ships in port, and the two forts protecting the city were obviously well manned. Charles attempted to establish a contact with the commanding general, a Don Ferdinando Lanza, but his effort was rebuked. He was in fact ordered to leave Palermo immediately, which Charles roundly ignored. Instead, he sent messages to the ships at anchor assuring them that he did not intend to start hostilities against them.

This uneasy situation continued for the next days. On May 27, the first sounds of fighting could be heard from the city. Powder smoke was rising from the eastern approaches to Palermo, but also in the centre of the city. Over the day, more and more Neapolitan soldiers were seen congregating on the fortifications as if seeking their protection. The situation was too volatile to send boats to the shore to reconnoitre, but when dusk fell, a boat came out from the city, carrying one of Beaumont’s agents. The man reported to his master immediately, but Beaumont made him repeat his report in Charles’s cabin.

“The Red Shirts attacked in the morning, Sir, and the people of the city joined them. They broke into the main jail and liberated many prisoners who joined in the fighting.”

“How are the Neapolitans reacting?” Charles asked.

The man shrugged. “There is a lot of running back and forth, Sir. Not all the officers are in this fight with their hearts, I guess.”

Those words were accompanied by a knowing grin, and Charles realised that Beaumont’s agents had not been idle and must have won over royal officers with bribes and promises.

“Garibaldi holds most of the city by now, Sir, but Lanza and his men are sitting in the forts.”

“The two forts at the harbour, or are there any more?” Charles asked immediately.

“Mostly the harbour fortifications, Sir. The old fort in the city was overrun when they stormed the prison.”