We start the new week at Lies Agreed Upon by turning our attention to that tiny arm of the Atlantic that always seems to cause so much trouble for Europe's continental powers. At it's narrowest point, the English Channel separates Great Britain from France by a scant 21 miles. Yet this distance, lengthened by the renowned British sea power, has stymied countless invasion attempts, once prompting this quote from our boy Napoleon. Ask the sailors of the Spanish Armada just how difficult the task can be.
An American fighting for France is not an unfamiliar story to some of our readers, but few Yanks have fought under quite the same circumstances as Colonel William Tate. A South Carolinian of Irish descent, Tate's family had been murdered by pro-British Indians during the American Revolutionary War. In Paris after the war, the advocate of Irish Republicanism felt the best way to get back at the crown was to take up arms again.
Two frigates and two corvettes made up the French squadron, sailing under Russian colors, that set out from Brest in 1797 on the last invasion of Great Britain.In January, 1797, as Napoleon Bonaparte prepared for his first invasion of Italy, a large French force had set out from Brest to land in Ireland. Hoping to incite the Emerald Isle's anti-British fervor, the weather (not the Royal Navy) forced the French to turn back. In spite of this, a smaller diversionary landing went ahead as scheduled.
Tate had been given command of the French Second Legion, 1,500 troops known as the Legion de Noire because of their distinctive dark uniforms. Even after the failed Irish Expedition, they slipped into the Channel aboard four French ships, hoping to land near Bristol on Britain's western coast. Bad weather forced them further north, and on February 22, 1797, Tate's men disembarked near Fishguard, Wales, the last foreign invaders to successfully land on British shores.
His ill-fated campaign was doomed almost from the outset. Among the Black Legion were over 600 irregulars, convicts who dispersed soon after landing to loot the local towns. Tate's problems were compounded by the discovery of stores of wine rescued from a Portuguese shipwreck by the locals a few weeks before. When British forces, made up mostly of volunteers, appeared before him the next day, Tate's command was severely depleted.
Tate arrayed his small force in strong defensive positions to face the oncoming enemy. Under command of John Campbell, 1st Baron Cawdor, the British initially planned to drive the French back into the sea. With only three cannon, however, Cawdor avoided a potentially deadly ambush when he held his men in the village for the evening. That night, their disheartened men scattered by drink and temptation, two French officers made their way into the town to negotiate a surrender.
The Royal Oak Pub in Fishguard, site of the British headquarters and French surrender negotiations during the brief invasion.The next afternoon, with most of the town of Fishguard turned out to see them, the French forces laid down their weapons and began a march to prison camps in England. The last invasion of Great Britain ended almost without a shot, and the British even captured two of the four invasion ships. Local legend credits Jemima Nicholas, a townswoman armed only with a pitchfork, with the capture of 12 drunk French soldiers.
The grave marker of Jemima Nicholas, Fishguard, Pembrokshire, Wales.
Since the short lived landing at Fishguard, the English Channel and the Royal Navy have not only safeguarded Great Britain, but also caused her enemies to take on other daunting campaigns. Lord Horatio Nelson's victory at Trafalgar in 1805, for example, would come at the expense of French squadrons attempting to consolidate in preparation for a cross-Channel invasion. In 1940, German planes could not clear a path for the Kriegsmarine, nor knock the British out of the Second World War. In both cases, the conquest of Western Europe was halted by a narrow strip of water, a distance a well-trained army can negotiate in a single day's march.
