The British battle fleet, Vol. 1 (of 2)

Part 5

Chapter 53,847 wordsPublic domain

“I say, then, if a vanguard be ordained of those hoyes, who will easily recover the wind of any other sort of ships, with a battle of 400 other warlike ships, and a rear of thirty of His Majesty’s ships to sustain, relieve, and countenance the rest (if God beat them not) I know not what strength can be gathered in all Europe to beat them. And if it be objected that the States can furnish a far greater number, I answer that His Majesty’s forty ships, added to the 600 beforenamed, are of incomparable greater force than all that Holland and Zealand can furnish for the wars. As also, that a greater number would breed the same confusion that was found in Xerxes’ land army of 1,700,000 soldiers; _for there is a certain proportion, both by sea and land, beyond which the excess brings nothing but disorder and amazement_.”

I have quoted from Raleigh at considerable length--a length which may seem to some out of all proportion to the general historical scheme of this work. But of the three possible “founders of the British Navy,” King Alfred by legend, King Henry VII by force of circumstances, and Sir Walter Raleigh, Knight, by his realisation of certain eternal verities of naval warfare, the palm goes best to Raleigh, to whose precepts it was mainly due that England did not succumb to Holland in the days of the Dutch wars. Compared to the struggle with the Dutch, neither the Spanish wars, which preceded them, nor the great French wars which followed, were of any like importance as regarded the relative risks and dangers. And the interest is the greater in that where the United Provinces were, about and just after Raleigh’s time, Germany stands towards the British Navy to-day.

In 1618 the Duke of Buckingham was appointed Lord High Admiral and continued in that position after the accession of Charles I. Of the incapacity of the Duke much has been written, but whatever may be said in connection with various unsuccessful oversea enterprises, for which he was officially responsible, naval shipbuilding under his régime made very considerable progress.

Things were quite otherwise, however, with the _personnel_. Abuses of every sort and kind crept in unchecked, and the men were the first to feel the pinch. The unscrupulous contractor appeared, and with him the era of offal foods and all kinds of similar abuses, of which many have lasted well into our own time, and some exist still. The money allotted for the men of the fleet became the prey of every human vulture, the officers, as a rule, being privy thereunto. Besides food, clothing also fell into the hands of contractors who supplied shoddy at ridiculously high prices, with the commission to officers stopped out of the men’s pay.

Pay, nominally, rose a good deal, and in 1653 reached twenty-four shillings a month for the seaman, but the figures (approximately equal in purchasing value to the pay of to-day) convey nothing. The men were half-starved, or worse, on uneatable food, and their clothing was such that they went about in rags and died like rats in their misery.

The first naval event in Charles I’s reign is mainly of interest because of the peculiar personal circumstances that attended it. One King’s ship and six hired ships were despatched, nominally to assist the French against the Genoese. On arriving at Dieppe, however, the English officers and men discovered that they were really to be used against the revolted French Protestants of La Rochelle. This being against their taste, they returned to the Downs and reported themselves to the King. They were ordered to sail again for La Rochelle. One captain, however, point blank refused to do so. The other ships went, but the officers and men, with a single exception, having handed their ships over to the French, returned to England.

Little or nothing seems to have been done in the way of punishment to the mutineers (possibly on account of public opinion). But the incident sheds an interesting sidelight on the state of the Navy at the time. It is hardly to be conceived that the Army at the same period could have acted in similar fashion with equal impunity.

The history of the British Navy of this period is the history of a navy lacking in discipline, and its officers divided against each other. Such expeditions as were undertaken against France and Spain signally failed. It is usual to attribute these failures to the mal-administration of the Duke of Buckingham, an unpopular figure. But whether this is just or not is another matter. The entire Navy was rotten to the core in its _personnel_. But Buckingham’s share in it would seem to have been inability to understand rather than direct carelessness.

Under the Duke’s régime the building of efficient warships continued to progress. The “ship money,” which was to cause so much trouble inland later, is outside the scope of this work, save in so far as its direct naval aspect is concerned. This, of course, was the principle that inland places benefited from sea defence quite as much as seaside districts. A great deal of the money was undoubtedly spent on shipbuilding; indeed, some of the trouble lay over alleged (and seemingly obvious) excessive expenditure on the “Dreadnought” of the period, Phineas Pett’s _Royal Sovereign_, a ship altogether superior to anything before built in England, and the first three-decker ever constructed in this country. She was laid down in 1635 and launched in 1657. An immense amount of gilding and carving about her irritated the economically minded, but it is questionable whether the objections were well informed.

Just about this time elaborate ornamentations of warships was the “vogue,” and it carried moral effect accordingly. What to the uninitiated landsmen merely spelt “waste of money on unnecessary display” spelt something else to those who went across the seas. Even in our own present utilitarian days a fresh coat of paint to a warship has been found to have a political value; and fireworks and illuminations (seemingly pure waste of money) have played their share in helping to preserve the peace.

John Hampden, according to his lights, was a patriot, and according to the purely political questions with which he was concerned he may also have been; but on the naval issue of Ship Money he was little more or less than the First Little Englander, and hampered by just that same inability to see beyond his nose which characterised the modern Little Englander who protested against “bloated naval expenditure.” The intentions were excellent--the intelligence circumscribed.

A contemporary account of the _Royal Sovereign_ is as follows:--

“Her length by the keele is 128 foote or thereabout, within some few inches; her mayne breadth or wideness from side to side, 48 foote; her utmost length from the fore-end to the stern, _a prova ad pupin_, 232 foote. Shee is in height, from the bottom of her keele to the top of her lanthorne, 76 foote; she beareth five lanthornes, the biggest of which will hold ten persons to stand upright, and without shouldering or pressing one on the other.

“Shee hath three flush deckes and a forecastle, an halfe decke, a quarter-decke, and a round house. Her lower tyre hath thirty ports, which are to be furnished with demi-cannon and whole cannon, throughout being able to beare them; her middle tyre hath also thirty ports for demi-culverin and whole culverin; her third tyre hath twentie sixe ports for other ordnance; her forecastle hath twelve ports, and her halfe decke hath fourteen ports; she hath thirteene or fourteene ports more within board for murdering-pieces, besides a great many loope-holes out of the cabins for musket shot. Shee carrieth, moreover, ten pieces of chase ordnance in her right forward, and ten right off, according to lande service in the front and the reare. Shee carrieth eleven anchores, one of them weighing foure thousand foure hundred pounds; and according to these are her cables, mastes, sayles, cordage.”

It remains to add that the ship was extraordinarily well built. She fought many a battle and survived some fifty years, and then only perished because, when laid up for refit in 1696, she was accidentally burned. And about sixty-three years ago (1852) naval architects still alluded to her with respect, nor did their designs differ from her very materially.

Wherever and however Charles I and the Duke of Buckingham failed, their shipbuilding policy cannot but command both respect and admiration. It is the curious irony of fate that--excepting King Alfred, and also Queen Elizabeth--it is the Sovereigns of England with black marks against them who ever did most for the Navy or understood its importance. And understanding what the Navy meant, generally secured these marks at the hands of some quite well meaning but intellectually circumscribed prototype or successor of John Hampden, to whom “meeting the enemy on the water” was an entirely indigestible theory, and a waste of money into the bargain. There is no question whatever that to them the sea appeared a natural rampart and ships upon it pure superfluity, save in so far as inconvenience to the shore counties might result. Later on, Cromwell, of course, acted on a different principle--but Cromwell was an Imperialist. Hampden was merely the “Insular Spirit” personified.

In 1639, a naval incident occurred which goes to discredit the popular idea of the impotence of the British Navy under Charles I, whatever its internal condition. Naval operations were in progress between Holland and France on the one side, and Spain on the other. The British fleet was fitted out under Sir John Pennington (that same Pennington who had commanded the squadron which refused to attack La Rochelle) with orders to maintain British neutrality.

The Spanish fleet took refuge from the Dutch in the Downs, whereupon Pennington informed the rival admirals that he should attack whichever of them violated the neutrality of an English harbour. The Spanish having fired upon the Dutch, the Dutch Admiral Van Tromp applied to Pennington for permission to attack the Downs. This was given, and the bulk of the Spanish fleet destroyed. The incident suggests that the English fleet was recognised as a neutral able to enforce its orders against all and sundry.

In connection with this, it is interesting to record the existence of a naval medal of the period, bearing the motto: “_Nec meta mihi quae terminus orbi_”--a free translation of which would be, “Nothing limits me but the size of the World.” However short practice may have fallen, Charles and his advisers had undoubtedly grasped the theory of “Sea Power.”

_THE CIVIL WAR._

When the Civil war began in 1642, the regular fleet consisted of forty-two ships. It was seized by the Parliamentarians and put under the Earl of Warwick, who held command for six years. With his fleet he very effectually patrolled the Channel, rendering abortive all over-sea attempts to assist the King with arms and ammunition.

On Warwick being superseded in 1648, the fleet mutinied, and seventeen ships sailed for Holland to join Prince Charles; but upon Warwick being reinstated the bulk of the fleet returned to its allegiance to the Parliamentarians. That the Parliamentarians were fully alive to the importance of naval power is evidenced by the fact that they seized every opportunity to lay down new ships; and “Parliament” once in power made it very clear indeed that the Sovereignty of the Seas would be upheld at all costs.

_THE FIRST DUTCH WAR._

Some forty years before, Sir Walter Raleigh, discussing the rise of the Dutch United Provinces, remarked: “But be their estate what it will, let them not deceive themselves in believing that they can make themselves masters of the sea.” He advised the Dutch to remember that their inward and outward passages were through British seas. There were but two courses open to the Dutch: amity with England or destruction of English naval power.

Since both nations had large commercial fleets, rivalries were inevitable; and for some long while previous to 1652, both sides were ready enough for a quarrel. Minor acts of hostility occurred. The Dutch failed to pay the annual tax for fishing in British waters. In May, 1652, a Dutch squadron refused to pay respect to the English flag. It was fired on accordingly, and after some negotiations, war was declared two months later.

The war is interesting because it saw an end to the old ideas of cross-raiding with ships regarded primarily as transports in connection with raids or to cover such. In this war fighting on the sea for the command of the sea first made a distinct appearance. Its birth was necessarily obscure and involved, both sides having the primary idea of attacking the commerce of the enemy and defending their own, rather than of attacking the enemy’s fleet. The earlier battles which took place were brought about by the defence of merchant fleets.

None of the battles of 1652 were conclusive, and though marked with extraordinary determination on both sides the damage done was, relatively speaking, small. The general advantage for the year rested slightly with the Dutch, mainly owing to Tromp’s victory over Blake, who was found in considerably inferior force in the Downs.

In February of the following year Tromp, with a fleet of seventy warships and a convoy of 250 merchant ships, some of which were armed, met Blake with sixty-six sail in the famous Three Days’ Battle.

In the course of this fight the Dutch lost at least eight warships, and a number of merchant-men variously estimated at from twenty-four to forty. The English admitted to the loss of only one ship. At the end of the third day, however, Blake drew off, and the Dutch admiral got what was left of his convoy into harbour.

Oliver Cromwell being now in full power, naval preparations were pressed forward with unexampled vigour, and on June 2nd an English fleet of ninety-five sail under Monk and Deane met Van Tromp and forced him to retreat. Reinforced by Blake with eighteen more ships the English fleet renewed the battle, ultimately driving Van Tromp into harbour with the loss of several ships.

On the 29th July the Dutch ran the blockade and came out. On the 31st a battle began in which Van Tromp was killed, and the Dutch with the loss of many ships driven into the Texel.

The English fleet, though it lost few ships, appears to have been badly mauled in this final battle, on account of which the Dutch claimed a victory.

In the following month the Dutch fleet again came out, and under De Witt took one convoy to the Sound and brought another back without interference. Just afterwards, however, their fleet was so severely injured by a tremendous three days’ gale that further naval operations were out of the question. Overtures for peace were therefore made, and concluded.

The types of English warships in this first Dutch war are given in Pepys’ Miscellany as follows:--

===================================================================== | | Length |Breadth.|Depth. |Burthen|Highest No. of Rate. | Name. |of Keel.| | | Tons. +-------------- | | ft. |ft. in. |ft. in.| | Men. | Guns. ------+-------------+--------+--------+-------+-------+-------+------ First |_Sovereign_ | 127 |46 6 |19 4 | 1141 | 600 | 100 Second|_Fairfax_ | 116 |34 9 |17 4½| 745 | 260 | 52 Third |_Worcester_ | 112 |32 8 |16 4 | 661 | 180 | 46 Fourth|_Ruby_ | 105½ |31 6 |15 9 | 556 | 150 | 40 Fifth |_Nightingale_| 88 |25 4 |12 8 | 300 | 90 | 24 Sixth |_Greyhound_ | 60 |20 3 |10 0 | 120 | 80 | 18 =====================================================================

The principal Dutch vessels were conspicuously inferior to the best of these English ones, and the war may be said to have been considerably decided by ship superiority. In the peace that followed--which was really very little better than an armed truce--the Dutch set themselves to build warships more on English lines. And, as we shall presently see, they evolved from the war,[15] future strategies based on its lessons.

Considering the number of battles and the desperate nature of them, it is perhaps curious to note the relatively small amount of damage done. With the advent of the porthole and the consequent multiplication of guns a hundred and fifty years before, it had seemed that any naval engagement must result in swift mutual destruction. Much the same kind of idea obtained as when at the end of 1910 a squadron of Dreadnoughts almost instantly obliterated a target five miles off. But as in the Armada fights, so in this First Dutch War, an immense amount of fighting was done with comparatively, and relatively to what might have been anticipated, small harm on either side.

This result is partly to be attributed to the fact that defence increased with offence. The warship proper was designed to stand hammering, and every increase in size, involving increased gun-carrying capacity, involved also increased strength of construction. Something may also be put down to the very inferior artillery then in use, and the great deal of boarding which took place.

There is some reason to believe that Cromwell, with his complete recognition of the advantages of naval power, with his assiduous energy in the creation of a strong fleet, recognised--as perhaps both Buckingham and Phineas Pett had done before--the advantages of the “big ship.” Yet under his rule no appreciable advance in size took place. Nor, for that matter, did it take place any time within a hundred and fifty years later on.

The reason is interesting. It was purely a matter of trees. The length of a ship was circumscribed by the height of trees; other dimensions by similar hard facts. The beam was dependent on the ship’s length; while the draught was governed by the harbours and docking facilities. It is doubtful whether any man ever sought to solve the problem of an invincible navy with more energy than Oliver Cromwell; yet under his rule nothing in the way of improvement was evolved at all comparable with the step taken with the _Royal Sovereign_ under the weaker Charles Stuart--Buckingham régime. The limitations of the tree proved the limitations of the ship.

When Cromwell died, his record was left in numbers. The Navy at his death consisted of 157 ships. His architectural improvements were but a new form of bottoms.[16]

Oliver Cromwell had not been long dead when the Navy--then under Monk--decided to restore the Monarchy. It sailed to Holland, embarked Charles II and James, Duke of York, and established Charles on the throne without opposition. Monk is popularly regarded as a political time-server. But in his change of sides he made one very important stipulation: that Charles was to pledge himself to the upkeep of the fleet. The fleet accomplished the Restoration. The bulk of evidence is that it did so with little regard for any issue other than the naval one.

_THE SECOND DUTCH WAR._

The second Dutch War broke out in 1665. As usual a state of unofficial war had preceded it. Both sides, having thought over the first war, had come to the conclusion that protecting their own merchant ships and attacking those of the enemy at one and the same time was an impossible proposition.

Both officially ordered their merchant ships to keep inside harbour; but in both nations there were traders who took their own risks at sea and found warships handy to protect them. None the less, this war is of much importance as the first in which the command of the sea, fleet against fleet, received general recognition.

The battles themselves of this war are of little interest. They were marked by that same equality of courage and determination which was an outstanding feature of the First War. Slight early English successes led to little but attacks on merchant shipping; then the Great Plague paralysed English efforts. The Dutch got to the mouth of the Thames, but a sudden sickness among their crews scared them off after a sixteen days’ blockade.

Following this the French took side with the Dutch; but inconclusive fighting still resulted, till the Dutch, imagining that they had done better than they really had, found themselves engaged in the battle of the North Foreland.

Defeated in this they retired to Ostend, and the English scored on their trade by landing operations and harbour attacks, the result of which Admiral Colomb has estimated as proportionately equivalent to sixty-six million pounds’ worth of damage at the present day! But it was conceded on the English side (_vide_ Pepys) that it was mainly a matter of luck that this immense blow was struck.

Shortly after this event, the Insular spirit asserted itself with what in these days is known as “Economy and Efficiency.” The Duke of York (afterwards James II) opposed it, but it was generally carried that the Dutch were defeated, and that a few economical fortifications would save the country against any further Dutch danger. No one having knowledge of the Dutch agreed. Indeed, the situation was precisely the same as when a few years ago the British Government cut down the Naval Programme. Charles II, peace talk being in the air, cut down expenses probably for his own ends; British Governments of the 1906–1907 era cut down with a view to expending the saving on “social reforms.” But the practical results were identical. The Dutch in their era did what the Germans did in our own--met the decrease by an increase. They omitted to consider the ethics involved; they looked merely after their own ends. The result was a great Dutch attack on the Thames, which, though not so serious as the similar previous English attack on them, produced an enormous amount of mischief.

That the Dutch did not bombard London itself was purely a matter of contrary winds and luck. They did destroy numerous new warships on the river, and Sheerness fell entirely into their hands. “Dutch guns were heard in London”--to quote the popular histories. Actually luck favoured the English, and diplomacy secured a peace which the reduced fleet could never have achieved. The pen, for the moment, proved mightier than the sword. England obtained thereby a peace favourable to her, while the Dutch secured a breathing space to enable them to prepare for the Third Dutch War, which, had the Second been carried to its end against them, would never have occurred.

_THE THIRD DUTCH WAR._

This War also began in the usual way--irregular attacks on commerce, without any declaration of war, and in March, 1672, an English Squadron wrecked havoc on the Dutch Indiamen. As in the Second War, the Dutch after this prohibited their merchant ships from proceeding to sea. No such prohibition took effect in England, where the merchant navy rapidly increased.

In the Second War the French were the allies of the Dutch. In the Third, they joined in with the English. In both cases their underlying political motive appears to have been to egg Great Britain and the Dutch on to mutual destruction. The assistance actually obtained by the Dutch from the French in the Second War was a minus quantity, and though in the Third, French ships actually joined the English fleet, the advantage therefrom ended there.