Ratcatcher

HISTORICAL NOTE

On 9th December 1799, following Bonaparte’s coup d’etat, the American inventor and scientist Robert Fulton submitted a proposal to the French government advocating the construction of an undersea boat to be used to annihilate the British Navy. The response was favourable. The vessel, which Fulton called Nautilus, was built at the Perrier workshop, and was successfully tested on the Seine in June 1800.

The French, however, ceased their funding of the project on the grounds that it was too terrible a device to be used against an unsuspecting enemy. Meanwhile, word of a weapon capable of destroying entire fleets at a stroke began to reach the British government and agents were dispatched to entice Fulton to England. Fulton, frustrated and angered by the French rejection, arrived in England in April 1804. A special commission was appointed to examine the feasibility of his submersible and his submarine bombs, which he called torpedoes. Tests were successful, culminating in the destruction of the brig Dorothea off the coast at Walmer Roads, near Dover.

Following Nelson’s victory at Trafalgar, however, the British lost interest in the idea and Fulton, in high dudgeon, returned to the United States.

In 1811, Fulton sent his own agent to France in a second attempt to interest Emperor Bonaparte in to using his weapon against the British.

Many of the individuals in the story did exist. The members of the Admiralty Board were as stated—with the exception of the fictional Admiral Dalryde—along with the individuals who made up the Commission convened to examine Fulton’s invention. James Read did hold the post of Chief Magistrate, though I confess to having taken some liberties with his description.

The mysterious Captain Johnstone was also a real character and did work with Fulton. He went on to design his own undersea boats and was rumoured to have completed a working model powered by clockwork. The then British government, however, had second thoughts and withdrew support for the design, whereupon Johnstone was approached by both French and American agents who expressed interest in his work.

The final victory over Napoleon, at Waterloo in 1815, ended serious British interest in submarine warfare, though a rumour did begin to circulate that Bonapartists had contacted Captain Johnstone with a view to rescuing the Emperor from exile on St Helena using a submersible. History informs us no such rescue took place.

However, several of the minor events depicted in the novel did happen. British riflemen did shoot the Spanish general on the ramparts at Montevideo and Captain Renny was killed leading the forlorn hope through the gap in the wall at Montevideo, thus gaining Lieutenant Lawrence his captaincy.

The bounty that William Lee was to be paid for the destruction of each British ship is also accurate, reflecting the reward the French were prepared to offer Fulton for the use of his submersible. Even at the time this was an astronomical amount, the equivalent of several million pounds in today’s money. Hawkwood’s astonishment at the fee is, therefore, perfectly understandable. Documents detailing the monies that Fulton commanded upon his arrival in England, such as the ?40,000 contract signed by Prime Minister William Pitt, are available for perusal at the Royal Navy Submarine Museum, Gosport.

HMS Thetis was a British warship, though she is not the one portrayed in the story. I merely took advantage of her name.

Fulton’s place in history and his importance to submarine warfare cannot be over estimated, neither, inevitably, can his contribution to classic literature. Jules Verne clearly took inspiration from Fulton’s Nautilus—as well as Fulton’s own views on liberty of the seas and free trade—for his great adventure story, Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea.

Bonaparte’s liaison with William Lee and their failure to frighten the British Navy into submission and thus disrupt Wellington’s supply routes was just one reason why France suffered defeat in the Peninsula. A hostile population, heavy military losses and the need to withdraw troops to fight on other fronts all contributed to a disastrous campaign. The Emperor’s fear that the Tsar’s resolve was weakening came to a head when Alexander reopened trade with Great Britain, in direct opposition to Bonaparte’s “Continental System”. It was the final straw. On 24th June 1812, Bonaparte’s invasion force crossed the River Nieman into Russia. It was Bonaparte’s greatest military enterprise, and it ended in catastrophic failure.

As for Matthew Hawkwood, London at the beginning of the 19th century was a very dangerous city. Crime had reached epidemic proportions and police officers like Hawkwood had to be tough in order to survive in their chosen profession. The Bow Street Runners were an elite force. They were few in number, between seven and ten officers in total, and their work took them all over the country. There is evidence to suggest that officers carried out assignments as far afield as Russia and the United States.

The war with France brought added intrigue and, given Hawkwood’s links with Colquhoun Grant, who was acknowledged to be Wellington’s most effective exploring officer, it would not be beyond the bounds of credibility that an officer of Hawkwood’s capabilities would be called upon to perform intelligence duties abroad.

Whether that proves to be the case, or not, remains to be seen…

Copyright © James McGee 2006