Once matters had been brought to a peaceful conclusion and the marshal had returned to Genoa, his high reputation for virtue and benevolence spread throughout Italy, and certain lords of that country were impressed and wished to make his better acquaintance. Among these was the lord of Padua, who was himself of great benevolence, valiant and expert in arms; for this reason he was much attached to the marshal, for, as the old saying goes, ‘Like attracts like’. And because of his love for the marshal and because he very much wished to see him, he wrote to him a number of times and finally made a visit to Genoa. The marshal received him most honourably and made him very welcome; the lord was so impressed by his reception, and felt such affection for the marshal, that he was drawn to all the French for the marshal's sake. The loyal marshal, for his part, always eager to advance the honour and the interests of the king of France, lost no time in offering the lord such warmth of affection and such wise advice, that the lord pledged himself to the king and accepted his sovereignty over the two great cities of Padua and Verona, as well as over all of his land, paying homage to the king [297] through the person of the marshal; the marshal received this homage with delight.

Just as the lord of Padua had done, so the lady of Pisa and her son Gabriele Maria Visconti approached the marshal and of their own accord paid homage to the king, via the marshal, for the lordship of Pisa and its region; they offered him every possible service should he require it; the marshal thanked them most heartily and gave them most honourable hospitality throughout their visit.

God has ordained two things in this world to act, as it were, as pillars to uphold those divine and human ordinances that govern humankind and permit them to live in peace and according to the dictates of reason, and that promote and nurture the human mind in wisdom and virtue while precluding ignorance; those pillars moreover defend and uphold and increase personal and public good; indeed without them, the world would be a place of confusion and disorder. The two pillars bring us great benefit and great reward – and we should therefore prize them, honour them, uphold them, praise them and revere them; they are, indisputably, Knighthood and Learning. [7] It is right that I should connect the two, for any country or kingdom or empire in which one or the other was lacking would scarcely last for long: if Learning were to be lost, so too would be law, and without law, man would revert to beast; if Knighthood were to be lost, any realm would very soon be destroyed by greedy and fearless enemies. Now God, praise be, has given us those two means of defence; in what follows, we shall concentrate further on one in particular, that is Knighthood, in the person of a valiant and noble knight, thank God still living, having reached a good age in good health, good spirits and noble estate: I speak of our lord Jean Le Meingre, known as Boucicaut, marshal of France and governor of Genoa [Jannes]. This book will be composed and completed in his honour and in tribute to his good deeds: [8] it will recount his righteousness, the nobility of his conduct, his generosity and benevolence, as well as his courage and valour in person as in deed, in all of which virtues he grows better day by day.

And since all life is by nature short, it is fitting and appropriate that the deeds of the valiant should be commemorated in perpetuity, in order that they be not forgotten after their deaths: in other words, it is proper that they be registered in books.

Naval officers such as Captain Philip Broke and army officers such as Thomas Woods Knollis, though loyal to their country, found that their national duty was challenged by an increasing sense of familial duty. Although compelled by the position, privileges and responsibilities they held as members of the gentry and aristocracy to perform their traditional public roles, Broke and Knollis also valued their domestic duties, and sought to fulfil these through correspondence, visits home and both familial and non-familial support networks.2 The challenge to reconcile domestic duties with the demands of the nation and the service became especially difficult when young children were involved. These demands left little time for fatherhood, particularly during wartime. As the above letter demonstrates, Broke struggled to balance duty to his country with the demands and pleasures of parenthood. By exploring the correspondence of men such as Broke and Knollis, this chapter will consider the ways in which pregnancy, childbirth and raising young children affected eighteenth-century naval and military families. There has been relatively little work done on the evolving roles of fathers in Britain throughout the century, despite contemporary commentary and representation of both maternal and paternal roles.3 War was a near constant feature of eighteenth-century life. For naval and military families it had a tremendous impact on their everyday lives, especially when it took the head of the household away from home. Current scholarship does not fully consider the impact of war on the intimate concerns of family life and how war affected both maternal and paternal roles and responsibilities. This chapter will show how fathers such as Broke and Knollis used their correspondence to help overcome the trials of separation and to maintain a strong, influential and domestic role within their families.

Elizabeth Bass

Elizabeth Bass, born in 1768, was the eldest daughter of William Waterhouse and his wife Susanna. Her brother Henry was a naval officer and rose to the rank of captain. She married George Bass, naval surgeon and explorer, in secret on 8 October 1800, at St James's Church, Piccadilly, London. They had no children. George Bass embarked on a commercial voyage to Australia soon after their marriage, but never returned. Elizabeth died in 1824.

George Bass

George Bass, born in 1771, was the only child of tenant farmer George Bass and his wife Sarah. Bass attended grammar school and then was apprenticed to a surgeon's apothecary. He was admitted to the Company of Surgeons by 1789 and went on to pass the qualifying examination for naval surgeons in the same year. In 1794 he joined Reliance, under the command of Captain Henry Waterhouse. Reliance was bound for New South Wales to deliver Governor John Hunter to the colony. Matthew Flinders was also on this voyage, and whilst in the colony Bass and Flinders conducted several exploratory expeditions. They charted and explored many rivers and bays, including the Derwent River. They also produced the first chart of Van Diemen's Land and the Bass Strait. Suffering poor health, Bass returned to England in 1799 and obtained leave from the navy to return to Australia to undertake a commercial venture. He married Elizabeth Waterhouse shortly before sailing in 1800. The venture did not go well, and unable to sell the cargo, Bass set sail for South America in 1803. He was never heard from again and was presumed dead.

Philip Bowes Vere Broke

Philip Bowes Vere Broke was born in 1776 at Broke Hall in the small village of Nacton, near Ipswich, Suffolk. Broke was the eldest son and heir of a family of three sons and five daughters. He trained at the Naval Academy at Portsmouth before entering the navy in 1792, joining the sloop Bulldog as a midshipman under Captain George Hope. Broke then received a commission as third lieutenant aboard the frigate Southampton on 18 July 1795.

Friendship and patronage were two core features of both the eighteenthcentury navy and wider society. These relationships were called upon repeatedly by officers and their families in their quest to cultivate successful naval careers. The help and interest of friends was essential for professional success in the navy. These friends could be family members or other non-related but interested parties. Friends were often slightly different from patrons in that they could attempt to solicit support but were often not in a position to directly deliver the required position or promotion. A key component of the dynamic of patronage was loyalty and duty to the service, the King and the nation. As we saw in the previous chapter, young officers such as Everard Home constructed their identity as worthy, dedicated seamen, loyal to the country and the service. With a father dedicated to obtaining his son's promotion and developing and nurturing patronage networks, Everard Home was able to succeed in his profession. For some young officers, however, promotion and patronage were much harder to come by. William Edward Fiott's lack of patronage, interest and influential friendship saw him languish as an ageing lieutenant in inactive and unprofitable stations. Fiott's plight was further exacerbated by the fact that he was an orphan. Although his uncles, particularly Whig MP William Lee Antonie, were supportive and offered some paternal guidance, Fiott lacked the dedicated patronage campaign that other young officers with keen fathers (such as Home) enjoyed.

In his Life of Nelson, Robert Southey records Horatio Nelson's early call to duty. ‘I felt impressed … [that] I could discover no means of reaching the object of my ambition. After a long gloomy reverie … a sudden glow of patriotism was kindled within me, and presented my king and country as my patron. “Well, then,” I exclaimed, “I will be a hero! and, confiding in Providence, I will brave every danger!”’2 Nelson's patriotic display was elaborate, engaging and convincing enough to capture the attention of an ‘imaginary patron’ along with the admiration of the nation.3 However, not all naval men nurtured this level of patriotism or the desire to risk everything to be a hero. For some, family was more important than ambition. Philip Broke wrote to his wife:

Petitioning was common practice in eighteenth-century Britain. Petitions ranged from appeals to parishes for poor relief, to applications to the King for pardon from execution. Naval and military petitions were an important subset. Army officers sent in their memorials for promotion, and similarly their naval brothers wrote to request a higher commission or a place on a larger ship. These men did so out of a sense of entitlement and in consideration of their service. For officers, however, it was often a case of who you knew, rather than what you knew. Men of the officer class drew heavily on their family and naval networks to advance their career, as we have seen, with varying degrees of frustration and success. Yet what about the vast majority who were not commissioned officers: common sailors and dockyard workers? The voices of these men and their families are seldom heard, lost to the historian by their lack of literacy and the scarcity of surviving correspondence. This group did not usually have the luxury of appealing to a relative, patron or family friend to advance their career or have their needs met. Instead, these men and women appealed or petitioned directly to the Admiralty Board or the Navy Board.

A father's role in bringing up his children, especially his boys, included guiding and supporting them in their choice of career. The army and the navy were considered respectable career paths for sons of the gentry and upper middle classes, as well as younger sons of the aristocracy. This career path was seen as even more desirable if the boy's father himself had been an officer. Nelson felt that the close relations of ‘brother officers’ were a boon to the service and these boys were looked on as ‘children of the service’, and as such were greatly esteemed and valued. The networks of patronage, friendship and support that men built and developed during their own service were passed on and further cultivated for their sons. Whilst many of these relationships were official and built on obligation, duty and responsibility, many also stemmed from friendship and familial sentiments – and indeed these cannot always be easily separated. As we have already seen with Broke, many captains assumed a paternal role with their young charges. Older students, young officers and teachers were called on by families to support and guide young boys at the beginning of their careers. Extended family members were expected to nurture and take in boys who were absent from home, whilst friends and acquaintances also fulfilled familial roles for these adolescent boys as they forged a place in their chosen profession and the world. Correspondence was vital to this process and letters formed an important part of these networks of support, creating familiarity and helping to strengthen and maintain bonds and reinforce shared values.

This book explores the competing forces of family, war and duty in the lives of eighteenth-century British families, both at home and overseas. By examining thousands of letters written by naval and military officers, ordinary sailors, wives and children, it considers the developing roles and responsibilities of men and women within families and particularly how these roles were shaped by war. Through a close examination of personal correspondence this study seeks to move beyond the stereotypical representations of these men as irresponsible womanisers and ‘jolly Jack Tars’ to uncover an aspect of their lives long neglected by historians: their commitment to their families. In turn, the work uncovers the practicalities of eighteenth-century parenthood and family life during wartime. In a century plagued by prolonged conflicts, the tensions between family and patriotism were often expressed through correspondence. This book acknowledges and explores these tensions, particularly in the lives and letters of naval officers. Furthermore it analyses the personal and professional networks that individuals and families created and nurtured in a period that was otherwise dominated by systems of patronage. It also examines the effects of gender, class and rank on naval personnel and their families. The fundamental components of eighteenth-century life – family, duty and networks – are all revealed through family correspondence. This work also considers over 1,000 petitions of Royal Dockyard workers and their families, and dozens of petitions by the 1797 naval mutineers at Spithead and the Nore. Although petitions cannot offer us an in-depth or comprehensive study of individual lives or situations, we are able to catch a glimpse of petitioners’ hardships, and therefore an opportunity to understand how their lives, their families and sense of duty were affected by war. By analysing this correspondence we gain insight into the relative importance of (and tensions caused by) these components in the lives of eighteenth-century Britons and their families.

Jane Austen concluded in the final lines of her 1817 novel, Persuasion, that British naval men were valued as much for their domestic virtues as their national importance. Close study of the personal correspondence considered in this work proves that this sentiment was well founded. While Austen was probably reflecting the views of her time, at least of men of the middling and upper classes, the significance of this conclusion should not be overlooked. This book has argued that, after years of conflict, British society had evolved ways to deal with the personal trauma of war, felt most keenly in the domestic and family setting. Significantly, this work argues that naval and military men, though loyal to their service and patriotic to the nation, also felt bound to fulfil their domestic roles. The correspondence examined reveals they were not emotionally detached but valued their roles as husband, father, son, brother and friend, and used their correspondence, not to highlight their achievements, but to maintain these relationships when war separated them from their loved ones. Family, war and duty dominated the lives of naval and military families, and through their correspondence we are able to move beyond contemporary stereotypes of roguish naval officers and ‘jolly Jack Tars’ and come to a more nuanced understanding of eighteenth-century officers, ordinary sailors and dockyard workers. Rather than replacing one maritime stereotype with another, this work has argued for the need to understand the links naval men had ashore and how they represented those domestic relationships via their correspondence. There was no typical naval officer, sailor or dockyard worker. Nevertheless, certain patterns are evident.

As the nuclear family became an increasingly important construct throughout the eighteenth century so too did the relationship between husband and wife. The marital relationship was idealised and sentimentalised by writers, commentators and artists. Affectionate, sensible marriage increasingly became associated with the expression of both masculinity and femininity. The idea, however, that all eighteenth-century marriages transformed from patriarchal to companionate models is both unrealistic and inaccurate. Most marriages would have been a combination of patriarchal dominance and companionship. Husbands and wives had specific roles and duties, which were indispensable to the other. Whilst marriages were idealised and satirised in many public representations, such as engravings, it is difficult to discover the ‘reality’ of any individual marriage. As Amanda Vickery acknowledges, it is most difficult to explore ordinary relationships as these are rarely recorded. Personal correspondence provides valuable insight into these relationships. Yet letters are not without their limitations; for example they may be read as a conscious construction of personal identity in line with social and personal expectations. Similarly, no letters can be deemed representative of marriage throughout the period, as even in a sample of letters from happy marriages each couple created a different image of themselves and their relationship through their correspondence. Nevertheless, personal correspondence is extremely valuable to the historian as it provides a window onto the personal lives and experiences of eighteenth-century couples. It allows us to glimpse the dynamics of romantic relationships and sheds light onto family life throughout the period.