Part 6

The allied fleet, under the command of the Duke of York, consisted of sixty-five English and thirty-six French warships, twenty-two fire ships, and a number of small craft. This fleet lay at Sole Bay (Southwold on the Suffolk coast). Here they were surprised by De Ruyter with ninety-one men of war, forty-four fire ships, and a number of small craft.

The _Royal James_, flagship of the Earl of Sandwich, who commanded one of the two divisions of the English Fleet, was attacked and destroyed by fire-ships, and the Earl was drowned in attempting to escape. The French Squadron under D’Estrées fell back and took little part in the fight. None the less, however, victory rested with the English, and the Dutch retreated to their own coasts, and were blockaded in the Texel. On shore the Dutch were badly pressed by the French armies, their naval energies being restricted accordingly.

With the approach of winter, the Allied fleet was broken up and returned to its harbours. In the early part of the following year, the Dutch conceived the project of blocking the English fleet in the Thames, and prepared eight ships full of stones with that object in view. This appears to have been the first instance of a device similar to that more recently unsuccessfully undertaken by the Americans, at Santiago de Cuba, in the Spanish-American War, and by the Japanese, at Port Arthur, in the Russo-Japanese War. The Dutch attack was never actually made; presumably circumstances did not admit of it. In the view of Admiral Colomb, it was frustrated by the English fleet putting to sea at an earlier date than had been expected.

The Allied fleet formed a junction off Rye, in May. It consisted altogether of eighty-four men-of-war, twenty-six fire-ships and auxiliaries. The English divisions were commanded by Prince Rupert and Spragge. The third division was under D’Estrées as before, but in order to avoid a repetition of what had happened at Sole Bay, the French ships were distributed in all three divisions of the fleet, instead of in a single division as they previously had been.

Having embarked a number of troops, the Allies sailed for Zealand, and found the Dutch fleet concentrating at the mouth of the Scheldt. It consisted of about seventy men-of-war, under De Ruyter, Tromp and Bankert. For some days, owing to fog and bad weather, no fighting was possible; but on the 28th of May, the Dutch weighed anchor and a battle of the usual sort took place, both sides claiming victory. The loss of life in the Allied fleet, crowded as it was with troops, was very heavy, and no attempt was made to follow up the Dutch, who had retired inside the mouth of the river.

On the 4th of June, the Dutch fleet again came out. The English retired before it. An entirely inconclusive action eventually resulted, after which each fleet returned to harbour.

Having embarked a number of fresh troops at Sheerness, the Allies again put to sea and appeared on the Dutch coast. No landing was, however, attempted; and on the 10th of August the final battle took place. The French fleet on this occasion was allowed to act by itself, and, as before, drew off and left the English to shift for themselves. Spragge, having had two flagships disabled, was drowned in moving to a third, and victory, such as it was, went to the Dutch. No further battles took place, and in 1664 peace was concluded.

The net result of these three wars was in favour of the English, but mainly on the trade issue.

At the beginning of the First, the Dutch had by far the larger merchant shipping. At the end of the Third, the proportion was reversed.

Although tactics, as we understand them, cannot be said to have been employed, certain definite war lessons were undoubtedly learned. It came to be thoroughly believed that the principal use of a fleet was to attack the fleet of the enemy; and on that account these wars are an important feature of English naval history.

Following the conclusion of peace, the English Navy was entirely neglected, and the condition of the ships became so bad that in 1679 a Commission was appointed and thirty new ships were laid down. But the majority of these ships, having been launched, were allowed to decay; Charles II’s early interest in the fleet having become a dead letter in his later years.

When James II came to the throne in 1685, he appointed another Special Commission, and the repair of the Navy was systematically undertaken. The _personnel_, however, was neglected. It remained in a very dissatisfied state, and tacitly agreed to his deposition.

At the abdication of James II, in December, 1688, the Navy consisted of 173 ships, manned by 42,003 men, and carrying 6,930 guns. Of these ships, nine were first-rate, 11 second, 39 third, 41 fourth, 3 fifth, and 6 sixth. There were 26 fire-ships and 39 small craft. The best of the first-rates in those days was the _Britannia_. She was of 1,739 tons, carried 100 guns and a crew of 780 men. Her length was 146 feet, her beam 47 feet 4 inches, and her draught 20 feet. The second-rate ships were 90 gun-vessels, third-rate 70 guns, and fourth-rate 54.

During James II’s reign, bomb vessels were first introduced and regular establishments of stores were instituted. It is somewhat difficult to assess how far naval progress was actually indebted to this, the first King of England who was a naval officer, and how far to the efforts of a determined few who realised the absolute importance of naval power. Probably of James I, as of all the Stuarts,[17] it may be said that they realised the principle, but required pressing to act upon it. To thus acting may be traced the unpopularity of at least some of the Stuarts--there are practically no signs that the nation generally understood the importance of a powerful Navy. All the indications are in a contrary direction.

V.

THE EARLY FRENCH WARS.

The accession of William of Orange and the French support of James soon brought about a war. Early in 1689 James invaded Ireland with French ships and men. He did sufficiently well there for a considerable English army to be employed against him, and in the summer of 1690, William himself went over to take command, leaving Queen Mary as Regent with little save the militia as military defence and a more or less unprepared fleet.

A Jacobite rising in England was planned. In conjunction with it the French proposed to hold the Channel in superior force to cover the landing of troops in England, and then, by a blockade in the Irish Channel, prevent the return of King William and his army. The attitude of the English fleet was uncertain--a strong Jacobite element being in it--and the scheme was generally a very promising one for the French.

A personal appeal from Queen Mary is said to have secured the allegiance of the English fleet: but in everything else the subsequent French failure was due only to luck and the wisdom of the British Admiral, Lord Torrington.

It was more or less realised that the French would concentrate at Brest. Squadrons were sent out to interfere with this, but convoys and the like bulked largely in their orders. There is not the remotest indication that the Home Government appreciated the danger, which ended in Torrington finding himself opposed by a greatly superior French fleet, which he was ordered to fight at all costs.

Therefrom ensued the battle of Beachy Head, a defeat and a “strategical retirement to the rear” for which Torrington was subsequently court-martialled and acquitted. He alone appears to have realised that his defeat would have meant the success of the French plans, while so long as he could avoid action the threat of his existence must interfere with invasion.

The French movements throughout were somewhat obscure. On the 25th June, according to Torrington, they might have attacked him but did not do so. When the battle took place on the 30th, it was Torrington who attacked. In the subsequent retreat, the French pursued for four days, but did so in line of battle and without much energy. They captured or destroyed five disabled ships, but of real following up of the victory there was none.

The Anglo-Dutch fleet took shelter at the Nore; but the French drew off at Dover, and sailing west attacked Teignmouth and then returned to Brest. Their failure to follow up and destroy Torrington has never been satisfactorily explained.

The panic which they had created in England bore early fruit. Thirty new ships were laid down. Of these seventeen were eighty-gun ships of 1000 tons, three were 1050 tons but carried seventy guns only, the remaining ten, sixty-gun ships of 900 tons.

In 1692 another Jacobite rising was planned, and a French army collected to assist it. Taught by the experience of Beachy Head the Anglo-Dutch fleet concentrated early. It consisted of no less than ninety-eight ships of the line,[18] besides frigates and auxiliaries, the whole being under command of Russell. A descent upon St. Malo was the principal objective contemplated.

Neither side appears to have had much conception of the intentions of the other. De Tourville, with a fleet of only fifty ships of the line, is supposed to have sailed under the impression that the Dutch had not joined up with the English.

In the fog of early morning on May 19th, he blundered into the entire Anglo-Dutch fleet off Cape La Hogue, and sustained a crushing defeat. At least twenty-one French ships of the line were lost in the battle itself or destroyed in the harbours they had escaped into.

Following upon this victory came a lull in operations. It would seem to have been the English idea that the French fleet, having been beaten and dispersed, all that remained to do was to get ready to defeat the new fleet that France was preparing, and so the year 1693 passed uneventfully, except that damage was done to trade on either side.

In July, 1694, the Allies made a move, bombarding Dieppe and Havre from a squadron of bombs which had been specially prepared. In September, Dunkirk received attention from a new war device called “smoak-boats”[19] the invention of one Meerlers, which did not inconvenience anyone very much. Meerlers also had “machine ships,” which likewise did no harm. These appear to have been an elementary idea on large scale of the modern torpedo--improved fire-ships.

A fleet was generally busy defending trade in the Mediterranean, where for the first time it was permanently stationed. Nothing in the way of fleet action was attempted by the French, and the next few years were spent in privateering on their part, and bombardments of ports which sheltered privateers on the part of the Allies.

English naval estimates in 1695 amounted to £2,382,172, and the House of Lords, in an address to the King, advocated an increase of the fleet on the grounds that it was essential to the nation that its fleets should always be superior to any possible enemy. A French invasion was projected in the winter months; but abandoned on the appearance of a fleet under Russell.

There is no question that in this war the French did more mischief with their privateers than with their fleet. English trade suffered very heavily; and there were continual complaints about the inability of the fleet to suppress the corsairs, a Parliamentary enquiry being eventually made into the matter.

The French privateers--“corsairs” is the more correct term--were in substance a species of naval militia, of a quite different status from English privateers sailing under letters of marque. They hailed principally from St. Malo; trading in peace time and preying on commerce in time of war. There were special regulations under which they were governed. The owner had to deposit a sum of about £600 with the Admiralty as security. He had to pay ten per cent. of the profits to the Admiralty and five per cent. to the Church. Two-thirds of the balance was his profit, the remaining third went to the crew. Often enough the privateer was a royal ship, let out for the purpose, and in the years following the battle of Cape La Hogue, most of the French frigates were on this service, with naval officers and men on board very often.

The privateers carried few guns, their object being to capture prizes, not to sink them. They sailed mostly in small squadrons, so making a considerable number of guns, and were rarely particular about using false colours. It was therefore comparatively easy for them successfully to attack weak convoys: some dealing with the warships and others making prizes; and the inefficiency laid to the blame of the English fleet in trade protection at that period was, in some measure, at any rate, due to a failure to appreciate the enormous difficulties. Duguay-Trouin himself records using the English flag to approach an English warship, and firing on her under these colours.

The unhandy warships of those days, faced with light enemies, which they could never overhaul, had a tremendous task set them. That the Navy of William III era successfully defended anything against men like Duguay-Trouin and Jean Bart, is of far more moment and more to be wondered at than any failures. In this particular war the fast lightly-armed corsair reached its apotheosis at the hands of veritable experts to a degree impossible to-day, or for that matter, ever hereafter, unless aircraft prove able to act as “privateers” of the future--a role which, to date, has been entirely forgotten in all discussions as to the value of aircraft.

In 1697, the peace of Ryswick was signed. According to Burchett, the net result of the war was the loss of fifty English warships and fifty-nine French ones. The historians generally indicate that the French were worn out with the struggle; but on the whole the English seem to have been well out of the war also.

It was about this time that Peter the Great appeared in England, and engaged John Deane, brother of the famous naval architect, Sir Anthony, to go back to Russia with him to establish a navy. This is the first instance of the foundation or reorganisation of a foreign navy by this country. The experiment was by no means very successful; the bulk of the English naval officers taken over by Peter being men who, for various reasons, had been dismissed from the Royal Navy. Some proved incompetent, and all of them were quarrelsome.

_WAR OF THE SUCCESSION._

The war of the Spanish Succession synchronised with the accession of Queen Anne, in 1702. In the interval following the peace of Ryswick the French fleet had had considerable attention paid to it. The principal innovation consisted in increasing the size without (as hitherto) increasing the armament in ratio. The French three-deckers were now built of 2,000 tons instead of 1,500 as formerly. The superior sailing qualities, ever a feature of French ships, were still further enhanced.

In England, though shipbuilding had also been vigorously pursued, improvements commensurate with those of France were not made. English ships of the period were, generally speaking, overgunned.

At the outbreak of the war of the Succession, the fleet consisted of seven first-rate, fourteen second-rate, forty-five third, sixty-three fourth, thirty-six fifth, twenty-nine sixth, eight fire ships, thirteen bombs, and ten yachts--a total tonnage of 158,992; an increase of about a third in thirteen years. The first-rates were a new type of ship; the second-rates consisted of the old type first and second rates--the three deckers of ninety guns and special service eighty-gun two deckers. The third-rates were the staple battle type--two deckers of seventy guns on home service and mounting sixty-two guns when sent abroad. The fourth-rates carried nominally fifty guns and forty-four on foreign service.

One third of the naval power of Europe was English; France and Holland between them made up another third, the balance being represented by the rest of the Powers.[20] Though the phrase, “Two Power Standard,” was then unknown, the fleet, representing as it did the result of agitations in Parliament and elsewhere for suitable naval power, was clearly based on a similar general idea, and the Two Power Standard theory may be dated from the time of William of Orange.

The general idea of the campaign on the English side was combined naval and military attack on Ferrol--the fleet, consisting of fifty English and Dutch ships of the line and some frigates and transports to the number of 110, being under Sir George Rooke. The military element amounted to 12,000 troops under the Duke of Ormonde. Nothing came of the attempt owing to internal dissentions; and the expedition was on its way back when news was received of Chateau-Renault with a French-Spanish fleet of twenty-one warships at Vigo. A combined attack was delivered and the entire hostile fleet was sunk or captured without much loss, and a valuable convoy captured also.

In this year there also happened the greatest disgrace that ever befell the Royal Navy. Admiral Benbow, who had risen from the “Lower Deck,” was detached with six ships of the line to the West Indies, where he met a French squadron of five, under du-Casse. Two of his captains refused to engage the enemy altogether, and the others, save one, did so but half-heartedly. Benbow was mortally wounded and a French victory gained. On their return to England two of the captains were executed “for cowardice,” but timidity had actually nothing whatever to do with the business. It was purely and entirely an act of personal hostility. It is generally put down to Benbow’s lowly origin; but officers of the Benbow class were so plentiful, and Benbow had so long been in important positions afloat,[21] that the “obvious reason” played but a minor part. Benbow’s great defect was a lack of that “personality” of which in later years Nelson was the prime exponent. Coupled with this was the state of much of the Navy generally owing to Jacobite intrigues with those who were unable to forget their old allegiance to the Stuarts.

In 1703 very special orders were issued as to cutting down expenditure on non-essentials in ship construction. In this year the ornamental work so conspicuous in ships of the Stuart era was reduced almost to extinction.

The naval events were inconsiderable. A few French prizes were made, and it was found from these that the French theory of increasing dimensions without increasing the armament had reached such a stage that fifty-gun French ships were larger than sixty-gun English ones,[22] but it was not for some years that practical attention was directed to the point.

In 1704 there took place another of the combined naval and military operations peculiar to this war. This was to Lisbon and in connection with the Austrian Archduke Charles. It is mainly of interest because it led to the more or less accidental capture of Gibraltar, and in that it otherwise had much to do with the prevention of a junction of the French Brest and Toulon fleets which was destined to loom so largely in future history that to this day “junctions” remain a principal “idea” for naval manœuvres.

Sir George Rooke, who commanded the main fleet, had with him forty-eight ships of the line and details; Sir Cloudesley Shovell was in the channel with some twenty-two more.

The Brest fleet sailed for Toulon under the Count de Toulouse. They were chased without effect by Rooke, till near Toulon, when on the evening of May 29th, he gave up the pursuit as too risky, and returned to Lagos, where Shovell joined him on June 16th.

The combined English fleet being now assumed superior to the combined French fleet, attacks on Cadiz and Barcelona were contemplated, but as insufficient troops were available it was decided to attack Gibraltar instead. The motive for doing so does not appear to have been anything greater than that the King of Portugal and the Archduke Charles were worrying the fleet to “do something.” Gibraltar was suggested and settled on, apparently, as being as suitable as any other place.

Gibraltar lies at the end of a narrow peninsula. On this peninsula, on July 21st, 1,800 marines from the fleet landed under the Prince of Hesse. As they carried only eighteen rounds per man, the presumption is obvious that either little opposition was expected or else that the attack was merely delivered to satisfy those who had urged that something should be done. The former is generally assumed to be the case, but the latter is by no means improbable. In any case, the marines met with little opposition and demanded the surrender of the fortress, while some of the English ships, under Byng, were warped into bombarding positions under a mild fire from the forts. This occupied a whole day.

Early on the 23rd, fire was opened on both sides, and the inhabitants of the town fled to a chapel on the hill. The bombardment continued till noon, when the “cease fire” was ordered, so that results might be ascertained. It was found that some of the batteries were disabled, and it was then decided to land in the boats and capture them.

On the cessation of fire, the inhabitants, mostly women and priests, who had fled out of the town, began to come back. Sir Cloudesley Shovell (who was on board Byng’s flagship) ordered a gun to be fired across these; whereupon they all ran back to the chapel in which they had been sheltered. This gun was taken by the fleet generally to be a signal to re-open the bombardment. Under cover of this firing, the landing party got ashore, and had things much their own way till about a hundred of them were killed or wounded by the blowing up of the Castle.

At this they began to retreat, but reinforcements arriving, they retrieved the position and captured other works without difficulty, establishing themselves between the town and the chapel where the women had taken refuge. Giving this as his reason, the Governor capitulated next day. His entire garrison, according to Torrington’s Memoirs, consisted of but eighty men. The Anglo-Dutch force lost three officers and fifty-seven men killed, eight officers and 207 men wounded.

Thus the capture of Gibraltar, “the impregnable.” At Toulon, a large French fleet was getting ready for sea--a fleet quite large enough to have done to the English what Teggethoff, in 1866, did to the bombarding Italians at Lissa.

There seems little doubt that Rooke under-estimated his fleet. On the other hand, as he had look-outs, and the wind was not in the enemy’s favour, the risks he actually ran were trifling compared to those taken by Persano. From which many lessons have been deduced and morals drawn.

In actual fact, however, it is greatly to be doubted whether either commander thought round the matter at all. The “science” of naval warfare is a thing of quite modern origin, and the strategies displayed by most admirals in the past--if studied with an unbiassed mind--are just as likely to be luck as forethought. Analogous to this is Ruskin on the artist Turner. Turner painted wonderful pictures: Ruskin found wonderful meanings in them. These “meanings” were, however, more news to Turner than to anyone else!

On August 10th, the French fleet, reported as sixty-six sail, was sighted thirty miles off by a look-out ship. Rooke’s fleet at that time was short of five Dutch ships which he had sent away, twelve other ships were watering at Tetuan--miles away from him--and all the marines of the fleet were on shore at Gibraltar as garrison. The light craft were sent into Gibraltar to bring back half the marines as quickly as possible, while the main fleet retreated to pick up the Tetuan division, and later got its marines on board.