Jersey Our Island: A Brush with the French – Part 2

Published in 1950, this is an interesting snapshot of the Island and its customs as it was in the immediate post-war period, and not without humour. Most guide books of the time give the tourist information, or give the impressions of an outsider to the Island, but this is in "inside view", which is rarer.

Jersey Our Island: A Brush with the French – Part 2
By Sidney Bisson

D-day for the invasion of Jersey was December 26th, 1780. The idea was evidently to surprise the defenders before they had recovered from their Christmas celebrations. On Christmas night there was a spy scare. A light signal was seen on the north coast, answered by one from the coast of France. Perhaps because it was Christmas, no one seems to have done very much about it, though it was later supposed to have informed the French that the coast was clear of English naval units.

On Boxing Day the expedition sailed from Granville, twelve hundred men with four field guns and two mortars in boats of shallow draught to facilitate a beach landing. It is surprising that Baron de Rullecourt, who commanded the expedition, should have been content with such a small force, as he had been second in command to the Prince of Nassau, whose much larger expedition had been unable to gain a footing the previous year. No doubt he relied on an element of surprise to make up for his smaller numbers. Nassau had attacked in daylight under cover of naval guns. Rullecourt proposed to land his men under cover of darkness.

The first attempt failed. Contrary winds prevented the ships from making Jersey, and they had to take refuge amongst the Chausey Islands, a small group off the coast of France. Here, according to one account, some of the men complained of cold and hunger. Whereupon Rullecourt split one man's head open with his sword and condemned another to be tied to a rock and drowned by the incoming tide. By January 5th the weather, and perhaps his temper, had moderated, and the ships set sail once more.

This time the wilds were favourable, and shortly before mid= night the troops started to disembark on the extremely rocky beach of La Rocque. Rullecourt had as pilot a Jerseyman named Pierre Journeaux, who had taken refuge in France after killing a man in a brawl. Journeaux was a La Rocque man, and presumably knew what he was about when he offered to guide the French ships along this very dangerous coast. Why he did not take them to the sandy beach a little to the north is a mystery. It has been suggested that he aimed at it and was swept south by the currents. More likely Rullecourt was afraid that the obvious landing places might be guarded. Whatever the reason, he lost two of his transports during the operation, and two hundred men were drowned, including his artillerymen.

Between five and seven hundred men reached the shore and immediately occupied a small battery, which was apparently undefended. Leaving a small party here, Rullecourt marched the rest of his troops to St. Helier, avoiding the coast road, which was likely to be watched. He reached the outskirts of the town at dawn, halted his troops, traditionally-in what is now Roseville Street, and sent out scouts. A house in Roseville Street still bears the commemorative name of `The Halt.'

All being quiet, the march was resumed along La Colomberie, where an old main who came out to see what was going on was promptly killed. The sentry in the Royal Square suffered the same fate, and the guard was captured except for one man who ran to the Hospital to warn the Highlanders of the 78th Regiment who were quartered there.

The French could not keep their arrival secret much longer. A number of people were roused by the commotion, and one of them, Captain Hemery of the Jersey Militia, went to warn the Lieutenant-Governor, Major Corbet. Corbet immediately ordered line to ride to Fort Conway and warn Captain Campbell who was in charge of a detachment of the 83rd (Glasgow) Regiment stationed there. Before Corbet could take any further action his house was surrounded and he found himself a prisoner.

So far the various accounts of the invasion are in general agreement, though they differ in matters of detail. What happened afterwards, and particularly the order in which things happened is not so clear. Some reports omit certain events completely, others give a different sequence of events. One can only present what seems to be a logical sequence and hope that it is correct.

So much does history depend on the historian !

Having rounded up various other officers and local officials, Rullecourt had them brought to the Royal Court together with the Lieutenant-Governor. Here he impressed on Major Corbet that the capture of the island was a fait accompli. He claimed that he had landed several thousand men, captured the 83rd Regiment at Fort Conway, and had two battalions in the outskirts of the town and others it the rural districts. To back up his assertions he sent messages to the troops that he claimed were in other parts of the island, and wrote a letter to France announcing his success.

Finally he issued a proclamation to the inhabitants guaranteeing their rights and privileges and freedom of religion if they offered no resistance to his troops.

Hoping that Corbet would have been impressed by this display, he now produced Articles of Capitulation for his signature. Corbet started to argue, until Rullecourt dramatically placed his watch on the table and announced that if the capitulation were not signed in half an hour he would destroy the town. Corbet then signed, as did a Mr. James Hogg, who is described as the `Fort Major.' Two civilian officials, the Avocat General and the Connétable of St. Helier, were also pressed to sign, but refused in spite of being threatened with death.

Apparently content with the military surrender, Rullecourt now became more affable. Producing a commission from the King of France naming him Governor, he announced that he would give an official dinner at Government House that evening, and invited some of the prominent citizens to attend. Whether they accepted or not is not recorded. Seeing that the defending forces were still intact and none of the fortifications captured, Rullecourt seems to have been remarkably optimistic. No doubt he relied on the orders which he had compelled Corbet to issue being implicitly obeyed. All troops were to remain in their barracks and offer no resistance.

He soon found out his mistake when, accompanied by Major Corbet, he set off at the head of his troops to receive the capitulation of Elizabeth Castle. No sooner were they in sight than the castle defenders fired a warning shot over their heads. As they continued to advance, a second shot was fired which caused some casualties.

The French halted and sent a messenger to the garrison with a copy of the capitulation. Captain Mulcaster, who received him, stuffed the papers in his pocket and said that he did not understand French. When the officer pointed out the strength of the invaders and added that ten thousand more men were expected the following day, Mulcaster replied grimly, `All the better. We will have more to kill.' To emphasise his words he blindfolded the Frenchman and led him to the top of the castle, where he showed him all the guns that could be brought to bear on the troops if they advanced. Then he sent him away.

There being little hope of taking the castle by storm, Rullecourt withdrew his troops to the town, which he would probably have set on fire in his anger had not Corbet intervened and offered to send another message to Captain Aylward, who was in command of the castle garrison, ordering him to surrender. This time a Jerseyman was chosen to carry the message. Obviously unwilling, he tried to excuse himself on the grounds that he was a poor horseman. Rullecourt, guessing it was an excuse, ordered one of his men to ride behind him to see that he did not fall off. Captain Aylward's reply was in the best British tradition:

`You know our situation and strength; when we reflect that the British flag has received Honour from the defence of this garrison in former times, we will not suffer its lustre to be diminished, and are therefore determined to hold out to the last.'

Ironically, he signs himself `Your most obedient Servant.'