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Introduction
For a long period, which included most of the 19th century, it was customary although not mandatory for captains of H.M. Ships to keep semi-private Journals, in which they recorded their personal views and opinions on current happenings in their ships and in the fleet. There was no standard form for these Journals, but generally any important ship’s movements and activities were transcribed into them from the ship’s Official Journal and Log, with the result that they sometimes present a curious mixture of professional detail and highly personal comment.
Of such a nature is the ‘Public and Private Journal’ kept by Thomas Saumarez between the years 1857 and 1862, covering service in China and South America, which form the basis of the present book. This Journal is written with little or no punctuation, no paragraphing, and only intermittent date headings, and in places the handwriting becomes almost illegible due to the difficulty of using a pen in rough waters. Where it is reproduced in this book, some punctuation and paragraphing have been inserted for ease of reading, but variations of spelling and use or misuse of capital letters have been retained. That text and any other in Thomas’s hand have been put into italics throught this book.
In addition to the Journal there are other source documents which help build up Thomas’s naval history. First there is an official ‘Ship’s Letter Book’, in which is recorded in clerkly hand a copy of all the ship’s official out-correspondence. It might be thought that such a book would have belonged to each ship for each commission, and on paying off would have found its way into Admiralty records, but, as it covers service in three different ships, it was apparently regarded by Thomas – rightly or wrongly – as his private property, accompanying him in his successive commands. It is unfortunate that there is no comparable record on in-correspondence, although the contents of letters can, in many cases, all too clearly be deduced by the tone of the replies that were made.
There are also a number of official and private letters that have fortunately survived the 150 or more years, many of which throw light on Thomas’s character and the clash of personalities that terminated his naval career. Those letters that Thomas thought could be used to further his career have been carefully saved, as has the extensive (and rather acrimonious) correspondence with Consular authorities in China on the subject of piracy. Finally there are a number of Certificates, Letters of Appointment and Captains’ Final Reports (the equivalent of the present day ‘flimsy’) which can all add to giving a rounded picture of the man and his career.
The period covered by the Journal was one in which the Royal Navy was in the middle of a long and painful period of transition and adjustment. First, there had been at the end of the Napoleonic Wars a run-down of the fleet, then the gradual change in its role from that of meeting the challenge of a Continental power to that of policing the oceans worldwide in support of an aggressive trade policy. Steam was replacing sail and although at the commencement of Thomas’s career there were over 100 steam vessels in the Navy, not one of these ships was sufficiently powerful in armament and size to be part of the battle fleet. The screw propeller was terminating the short life of the paddle-wheel, and iron was about to replace wood for hull construction, with the first ironclad launched during Thomas’s naval service. When the writer notes in his Journal his appointment to command a ‘screw frigate’, he does so with the evident satisfaction of knowing that he is going to the very latest word in warship construction.
However although ships were evolving, the officer structure was not. The vast surplus of officers that had existed at the end of the Napoleonic War had run down, but the archaic system of promotion still persisted. This system had never been devised to meet a need, but had evolved haphazardly through the ages in the changing environments of the 17th and 18th centuries under pressures of patronage, and in the division between the professional ‘tarpaulin’ and the semi-professional ship’s captain. Its major weakness was that the two methods by which an officer could be promoted -- by ‘merit’ or ‘automatically’ – were later found by the Royal Navy and by almost every other fighting service to be in precisely the wrong sequence. Nowadays, promotion up to a rank where a moderate degree of seniority and security is achieved is automatic, provided that a certain level of proficiency is met, and thereafter promotion is by selection on merit. This means that an officer, in his formative years when his natural instincts for competition and aggressiveness are at their highest, can concentrate on learning and doing his job without being continually diverted by the feeling that he must not only excel, but be seen to excel, so as to ‘catch the selector’s eye’. Later, when selection takes over, competition does play a part in an officer’s motivation, but at this maturer age, it is far less apt to over-ride judgement.
Under the system in the Navy in Thomas’s day, however, promotion up to Captain or ‘post rank’ was entirely by selection and although this purported to be on merit, influence (or as it was then known ‘interest’), patronage and opportunity all played their part. So no young officer with any aspirations could afford to sit back and wait until promotion came his way; it had to be sought for, fought for or solicited. Diffidence and modesty, even if allied with efficiency, seldom brought rewards, so boasting and proclaimed self-esteem, which would nowadays be regarded as most discreditable, was a normal attribute of an officer of the period. Thomas was certainly no exception – he constantly brags about his service without a trace of apology, and takes immediate umbrage if he considers that his prowess has been insufficiently appreciated. It is very clear from the way that he is apt to write letters to his immediate family referring to himself in the third person, and has filled a notebook listing his early exploits in a very boastful way (throughout which he refers to himself rather oddly as ‘the memorialist’), that he expected, or at least hoped, that this information would reach someone of influence.
When ‘post rank’ was finally achieved by the officer, the change was dramatic. No longer had he to struggle, for his future was assured – so assured in fact that only death or court martial could stop him from eventually achieving the successive grades of Flag rank. He might have long periods on half-pay without employment and when that employment came he might be so ‘rusty’ as to be incapable of exercising command efficiently, but in theory at least he remained available to command a ship, squadron or even fleet.
What emerges very clearly from the Journal and from the letters, is the impact that this promotion system had on a young officer whose determination to succeed continually led him to invite attention to his own merits (which were not inconsiderable) even beyond the wide limits that the customs of the times allowed. In a period when the only major war was the Crimean, which involved little naval participation, active service was rare, and since it brought opportunity for promotion, was much sought after. This officer was lucky enough to find it as a Midshipman, as a Lieutenant and as a Commander, being several times wounded, once rewarded by a foreign government and twice by promotion. He achieved post rank at a relatively early age but ceased to be employed shortly after doing so. It is not difficult to see the reason for this. That Thomas was an efficient, resourceful and enterprising naval officer cannot be open to doubt, but he used neither tact nor discretion in getting his way, and although letters show that he was held in respect by many of his contemporaries, he also made too many enemies, especially among his senior officers. Thomas was one of those officers whose counterparts exist today – who do excellently in war but badly in peace. It was, perhaps, his misfortune that he lived under ‘Pax Britannica’.