CHAPTER VIII

THE AMERICAN WAR TILL THE FALL OF YORKTOWN

AUTHORITIES.—As before.

The course of the war in 1780 was dictated by the political conditions.

France, disappointed by the futile end of the great demonstration in

the Channel in 1779, did not renounce naval warfare in European waters,

but was turning her attention towards giving more effectual aid to

the Americans, and to efforts in combination with the Spaniards for

the entire expulsion of England from the West Indies. Spain watching

Minorca, and blocking Gibraltar, was prepared to co-operate with France

in Europe and the Antilles, while making an effort to recover Florida.

Don Bernardo de Galves, sailing from Havana, did achieve success in

this minor and isolated operation. The most effectual defence for us

would have been to blockade Brest, Ferrol, Cadiz, and Toulon. But with

an equality of numbers against us and the peremptory obligation to

give naval support to the army in America—the cancer which drained our

strength in all these years—the high line could not be taken. Moreover,

the rigid enforcement of our belligerent rights against neutrals at

sea was steadily bringing us into collision with Holland, to the

verge of a conflict with the Northern Powers, Russia, Prussia, and

the Scandinavian States, and this would have been sheer ruin; for the

revolt of the plantations had cut us off from the supply of American

naval stores, and we were dependent on the Baltic for timber, pitch,

and hemp, without which our fleets could not have been fitted for sea.

D’Orvilliers and Luis de Córdoba having shrunk away from the Channel in

September 1779, we were at liberty to set about defending our remoter

interests, the relief of Minorca and Gibraltar, and the strengthening

of our naval position in the New World. Mention has been made of

the sailing of Arbuthnot in June. He had with him a convoy of 400

merchant-ships with stores for General Clinton at New York. Having

turned aside to defend the Channel Islands, he sent his convoy into

port to wait for him. A shift in the wind delayed his departure from

the Channel, and though he got away safe under the wing of Hardy’s

grand fleet, he did not reach New York till August. Here he took

over the command from Sir John Collier, who had superseded Gambier,

and he co-operated in December 1779 with Cornwallis in the taking of

Charlestown, in Carolina, after the retreat of D’Estaign from before

Savannah. In the West Indies Hyde Parker had a superiority of force

over D’Estaign’s successors, the Comte de Grasse and La Motte Picquet,

and was able to confine them to Fort Royal.

At the close of 1779 measures were taken to relieve Minorca and

Gibraltar and to reinforce the West Indies. A great convoy was

collected to carry stores and soldiers to the Mediterranean fortresses.

It sailed under the guard of twenty-two line-of-battle ships and many

frigates. The command was given to Rodney, who after relieving the

fortresses was to go on with part of the fleet to the West Indies,

and there supersede Parker. With Rodney a new spirit entered into the

conduct of the naval war. He was the ablest officer, except Howe,

who had yet hoisted his flag, and was indeed a man of quite another

stamp from Keppel, Byron, Parker, Hardy, or Arbuthnot. In the Austrian

Succession and Seven Years’ Wars he had gained a reputation in the

service for ability and zeal, had been captain under Mathews and

Hawke, had commanded in the Leeward Islands, and had been bitterly

disappointed when he was superseded by Pocock during the capture of

Havana. He was eager, was not satisfied with the prevailing formal

application of the Fighting Orders, and had turned his intellect to

the conduct of war. His defects were that he was no longer young,

and that his health was ruined by diseases which were, at least in

part, the result of early dissipation. It was his misfortune to be

too deeply conscious of the fact that he represented an ancient

family of Somersetshire gentry and was closely connected with the

ducal house of Chandos. His brother-officers appeared to him in the

light of middle-class persons of inferior breeding who lived mostly

in the ports when on shore. The naval habits of the time kept the

captain and admiral in great seclusion, since it was hardly thought

consistent with their dignity to speak with subordinates except on

matters of duty. Under the influence of pain and social arrogance,

Rodney carried this isolation to an extreme. He had ruined himself

by gambling and bribery at elections, and had taken refuge from his

creditors in Paris when the American War began. A loan from the French

Marshal Biron saved him from imprisonment as a debtor in the Bastille.

On his return to London he sought for employment, and the refusal of

other admirals to serve opened the way for him to his great but tardy

opportunity. The jobbery and favouritism of the age had by no means

left him untouched. During his famous command in the West Indies he

made his own son a post-captain at the age of seventeen, and he drove

his subordinate, Isaac Coffin, into flat revolt by forcing mere lads on

him as lieutenants. When he sailed for Gibraltar in December 1779, two

influences were at work in his mind, a noble and ignoble. He burned to

gain glory for himself and victory for his country by vigorous conduct

of the war, and he was deeply concerned to repair his shattered fortune

by prize money.

Rodney sailed on the 27th December 1779, taking with him both the

reliefs for Minorca and Gibraltar, and a convoy of merchant-ships

bound for the West Indies. The trade was seen clear of the Channel,

and sent on its way on the 7th January 1780. The main fleet now went

on to Gibraltar with the stores and reliefs, and on the 8th, when

300 miles E.N.E. of Finisterre, fell in with and captured a Spanish

convoy of one 64-gun ship, seven frigates and sloops, and fifteen

merchant-ships, bound for South America. This prosperous beginning of

the service was soon followed by a more signal success. Storms in the

Straits had distressed the awkward Spanish blockading fleet, and the

greater part of it had been forced to take refuge in harbour. But a

squadron of eleven ships of the line under the command of Don Juan de

Lángara was stationed off Cape St. Vincent to intercept the relieving

force which the Spanish Government was convinced would not exceed ten

liners. On the 16th January Rodney swept down on this inferior force,

in a brisk breeze rising to a gale from the west. He steered between

them and the land as they endeavoured to escape, overtook them in the

night, and destroyed them completely. Six were taken, one of the prizes

being Lángara’s flagship, and a seventh blew up with the loss of all

hands. Two of the prizes were recaptured by their Spanish crews during

the storm following the action, but as Barceló, the Spanish admiral,

did not venture to leave the protection of the forts at Algeciras,

there was no further opposition to the relief of Gibraltar. Rodney’s

subordinate, Digby, went up the Mediterranean to Minorca with stores.

On the 14th the admiral left for the West Indies with six sail of the

line, and four days later Digby, leaving four ships to aid in the

defence of the fortress, took the others, and the empty storeships,

back to the Channel unopposed by Frenchman or Spaniard. This handsome

success, the just reward of intelligent measures vigorously executed,

raised the spirit of the nation, and Rodney sprang at once from

comparative obscurity, outside his own profession, into universal

popularity.

I will again treat the operations in West Indies and on the coast of

North America as the main stream of the war, and therefore follow

Rodney’s flag for the present. He reached Santa Lucia on the 27th March

to find Sir Hyde Parker anchored at Gros Islet Bay, and menaced in his

turn by a superior French force. Until the middle of the month, Sir

Hyde had been engaged in watching La Motte Picquet and the Comte de

Grasse at Fort Royal, and in covering the arrivals and departures of

the merchant-ship convoys. In common with all other naval commanders

on the West Indian stations, he looked forward to taking a share in

the recapture of our lost islands and in the conquest of the French

possessions. About the middle of March he was expecting to be joined by

transports conveying troops under General Vaughan from North America,

and therefore took port to windward—which is to eastward—of Martinique

to meet and protect them. On the 21st the junction was effected,

and at the same time Parker heard that the French were expecting

reinforcements from Europe. He left Commodore Collingwood with four

sail of the line to look out for them, and returned to Santa Lucia

with the other twelve of his command, and General Vaughan’s troops.

The French at Fort Royal had in the meantime divided. Part had gone

to San Domingo with La Motte Picquet. The Comte de Grasse remained

with the others to wait for the fleet coming from France. Immediately

after Parker anchored at Choque Bay, in Santa Lucia, his look-out ships

reported that they had seen a great French convoy entering Fort Royal.

On the top of this report Commodore Collingwood ran into Choque Bay

with his detached squadron, and the news that he had been chased by

sixteen French sail of the line, had escaped them, had met four sail

of Rodney’s squadron which that officer had sent on, and had sent them

back to their admiral with the information that the French were in

force.

The newcomers were the powerful fleet fitted out at Brest, and they

came under the command of Luc Urbain de Bouëxic, Comte de Guichen,

a man of sixty-two, and one of the most interesting figures in the

French Navy of the day. He represented at once all that was best in

the French _noblesse_ of his generation, its virtues of good breeding,

high personal honour, and loyalty—all that was most accomplished in

the scientific training of the French naval officer of the eighteenth

century, and all that was most fatal in their theories of the conduct

of war. No man handled a fleet with more precision or with greater

elegance, and no man manœuvred with more dexterity not to injure his

opponent, but to baffle that opponent’s attempts to injure him. We

shall see why he fairly divided the honours of the coming encounter

with Rodney, but it was characteristic of his school, and was its

condemnation, that his active career was to end in the Bay of Biscay

two years later in failure and discredit, simply through the breakdown

of the manœuvring he loved under the direct thrust of Kempenfelt. On

the 23rd March he joined Grasse at sea to windward of Martinique.

Having now twenty-four sail of the line to Parker’s sixteen, he

prepared for the reconquest of Santa Lucia, and appeared to leeward

of the island on the 24th. He was not quick or energetic enough to

prevent Parker from covering the entry of another convoy of troops

from Barbadoes, which came in round the north end of the island, on

that day; nor did he intercept Rodney, who joined Parker on the 27th,

raising the total British force to twenty-two of the line, and taking

up the command.

On the 2nd April Rodney put to sea in search of Guichen. The French

admiral followed the usual course of officers of his service. Though

equal in number to his opponents, he declined battle, remained at

anchor under the guns of Fort Royal, and waited till the absence

of the British fleet should offer him an opportunity to strike at

one of the British Antilles. Rodney returned to Gros Islet, leaving

frigates to watch. On the 15th April, Guichen came out, having with

him a detachment of troops commanded by Bouillé. Rodney was instantly

informed of his movements, and started in pursuit. On the 16th April he

sighted the French twenty-four miles west of the Pearl Rock, a little

island outside Fort Royal. On the following morning he was to windward

of his enemy, having twenty sail of the line to Guichen’s twenty-two.

The French had stood off to the N.W. when sighted, and had been

followed by the British. Both fleets were to leeward of Martinique.

At 6.45 a.m. Rodney signalled that he intended to attack the enemy’s

rear, and at 7 a.m. ordered his line to close till the ships were

at one cable’s length from one another. The order to bear down was

given at 8.30. Both fleets were heading to the N.W., and the French

were very much extended. There was a gap between their rear and their

centre. Guichen seeing that his rear division was in peril, at once

reversed the order of his van and centre, and stood to the south to its

assistance. He thereby closed the gap, and as his rear turned also to

the south, it became the van. Rodney was thus baffled, and drew off,

resuming his course to the north. Guichen then turned his fleet in the

same direction, and the two again stood to the northward side by side

out of gun-shot. At 11 a.m. Rodney hoisted the signal to engage. It was

his intention that his fleet should steer for the enemy’s rear with the

ships at a cable’s length apart. His captains unfortunately understood

the signal to attack the rear as applying only to the first movement.

Brought up in the old faith of the Fighting Instructions, they fought

as they had been trained to fight—steering van to van, centre to

centre, and rear to rear. Rodney’s plan to concentrate his whole

force on a part of the enemy was spoilt, and the battle to leeward of

Martinique ended as many others had done, with a great deal of damage

to the spars of the British ships and the retreat of the French little

hurt.

This failure remained a subject of bitter regret to Rodney. At the time

and afterwards he attributed it to the deliberate misconduct of his

captains, who, he said, let the French escape in a factious spirit of

opposition to the king’s Government. More credible explanations are:

the influence of unintelligent rules of tactics; and his own partly

valetudinarian and partly arrogant solitude. If he had explained to

his captains the principles on which he meant to fight, his orders

would not have been misunderstood, and it would have been impossible

that they should have been disobeyed. The merit of his proposed plan

is manifest when it is compared with the mechanical rules of the

Fighting Orders. Yet that merit may be, and has been, exaggerated. Such

a concentration as he designed could always be answered by an enemy

who was prompt to reverse his order and to close his line, as Guichen

showed in the early hours of the day. So long as the British fleet

engaged to windward, there could be but indifferent security that the

enemy would not cripple its rigging and slip away. Rodney, in short,

set the example of innovating on the formal tactics of the time, but

before great results could be obtained much more had to be done than he

showed himself prepared to do on the 17th April 1780.

The operations following the battle were marked by no decisive event.

Rodney, after keeping for a few days between Guichen and Fort Royal,

returned to Choque Bay to refit. Several of his ships, and the flagship

among them, the =Sandwich=, had been severely damaged. Guichen, after

visiting the Dutch island of St. Eustatius to procure stores, stationed

himself to windward—that is, to the west of Martinique. His object was

to effect a junction with a Spanish squadron under Admiral Solano,

which was known to be on its way from Europe. Rodney followed him.

Exasperated by the want of support he had suffered from in the last

action, he put his fleet through a severe course of manœuvres, and drew

the reins of discipline tight with a severity which aroused the wrath

of his subordinate, Sir Hyde Parker, who on his return home was with

difficulty restrained by the advice of Sandwich from creating another

naval scandal. Twice Rodney came close enough to Guichen to bring

on partial actions—on the 15th and 19th May. But the Frenchman was

resolved not to be brought to close action. He had the weather-gage,

and kept it so carefully that only the van ships of the British line

came into action with the rear of the French as the two fleets passed

on opposite tacks. It was characteristic of the spirit and principles

of the French Navy of the time that Guichen was much praised for, and

was visibly proud of, his success in baffling Rodney’s attempts to

bring him to battle. Rodney, who might have cut off two or three of

the rearmost French ships if he had ordered his van to steer into the

enemy’s line, was not prepared to depart wholly from the old methods.

On the 21st May, Guichen, whose ships were in want of repairs, went off

to the northward, and Rodney lost sight of him. The French returned to

Fort Royal, and the English to Barbadoes.

At Carlisle Bay, in that island, on the 22nd May, Rodney was joined

by the =Cerberus= frigate. Her captain, Mann, brought news that when

cruising off Cadiz he had sighted a Spanish squadron of twelve sail

of the line on the 2nd May, with a convoy of merchant-ships. He had

followed it for days, had convinced himself that it was bound for

the West, and had left his station to warn Rodney. Sir George, who

received further information from Lisbon, put to sea to intercept the

Spaniard, who he concluded was bound for Martinique. But Don José

Solano steered a more northerly course, and on the 10th June effected

a junction with Guichen at Guadaloupe. Rodney had been reinforced by

five ships of the line while to windward of Martinique, but was now so

much outnumbered by the united Spaniards and French that he returned

to Gros Islet Bay and stood on his guard. Nothing was attempted by

the enemy. The Spaniards were horribly sickly and in no condition for

service, while several French ships were worn out. On the 5th July

the allies separated, Solano going to Havana, and Guichen to Cape

François, in San Domingo, from whence on the 16th August he sailed

for Europe. Rodney was joined at Santa Lucia by reinforcements under

Commodore Walsingham on the 12th July, but no opportunity for action

was presented by the enemy. The hurricane season, during which the West

Indies are dangerous, had begun, and the trade had to be seen safe to

Europe. Rodney sent off the merchant-ships convoyed by Sir Hyde Parker,

detached ten of the line under Rowley and Walsingham to Jamaica, and

sailed himself with ten ships of the line to North America.

On the North American station the British squadron had been commanded

since the latter part of 1779 by Rear-Admiral Marriott Arbuthnot,

a somewhat dull man of impracticable temper. During May he had

co-operated with Sir Henry Clinton in the occupation of Charlestown,

but during the rest of the year he had been checked by the appearance

on the coast of a French squadron of nine sail of the line under the

Chef d’escadre D’Arzac de Ternay. Ternay had sailed from Brest on the

2nd May, escorting 9000 troops under Rochambeau. On the 20th June,

near Bermuda, he fell in with four British sail of the line under

Cornwallis, who was escorting a flock of merchant-ships homeward bound

through the Florida Straits. The two squadrons cannonaded one another

feebly. Ternay having “his mission to fulfil,” would not stop to crush

Cornwallis, and went on to Rhode Island, which he reached on the 11th

July. Arbuthnot, who was reinforced by Graves on the 13th July, made

preparations to co-operate with the army in an attack on the French;

but delays followed one another, and no attack was made. The brief

stay of Rodney on the station was not marked by any active operation.

Arbuthnot looked upon him chiefly as a competitor for shares of prize

money, and was angry at his intrusion. Sir George, whose health

suffered in the keen air of a northern autumn, reached New York on the

22nd September, and was back in the West Indies on the 12th December.

In home waters the war was conducted with languor on both sides after

Rodney’s relief of Gibraltar. The British Government having to meet

calls all over the world, could only collect some thirty sail of the

line in the Channel, which were successively led by Admiral Geary, a

worn-out veteran, and Admiral Darby. Geary, after a cruise in June

and July, during which he made a few prizes of merchant-ships,

resigned in August. One object of his cruise was to see a large convoy

of ships bound to the East and West Indies safe out of reach of the

French and Spanish fleets. It was to be guarded when clear of European

waters by Captain Moutray in the =Ramillies=, 74, with the =Thetis=

and =Southampton= frigates. The convoy consisted of five East India

Company’s ships, of eighteen transports carrying a regiment to the West

Indies, and of forty West Indian merchant-ships. Moutray left Spithead

on the 29th July. He was allowed two other line-of-battle ships till

he was 300 miles beyond the Scilly Isles. He met Geary at sea, and

was escorted by the grand fleet till he was some 340 miles west. Then

he was left, the admiral thinking that he was now safe. But he was

running into extreme peril. The French had sent the Chef d’escadre

Bausset with seven of the line and the Spanish ships at Brest to join

Don Luis de Córdoba at Cadiz. While they were there, secret information

of the sailing of the convoy and of the weakness of Moutray is said,

by Spanish historians, to have reached the Prime Minister of Spain,

the Count of Floridablanca. He at once ordered Córdoba and Bausset to

sail and intercept the prize. They were right across Moutray’s route

when, on the 8th August, in Lat. 36° 40 N. and Lon. 15° W., their sails

were seen on the horizon at sundown from the masthead of Moutray’s

advance ship. Thinking the sails belonged to neutral ships, he held on

till night. Then the number of lights reported as seen ahead made him

alter his mind. He signalled to his convoy by gun-fire to lie to with

their heads to the west, and then, again by gun-fire, ordered them

to continue their course. It was his meaning that they should go as

they were then pointing. The captains of the Indiamen, transports, and

merchant-ships understood that they were to resume the course they were

on before they lay to, which was to the south. His signals had been

heard by the allies, who steered for the sound of the guns. So when the

sun rose on the 9th August, Moutray with his solitary 74 and frigates

was well out to the west and to windward. The sixty-three ships under

his charge were sailing right into the arms of a big French and Spanish

fleet, which closed on them, and carried them all into Cadiz. It was

the greatest disaster suffered by British commerce since Tourville had

scattered the Smyrna convoy. The necessity for satisfying the public

by making an example led to Moutray’s trial by a court martial, and he

was reprimanded. In truth, nothing he could have done would have saved

his convoy when once it was close to so great a force. He lived to be

appointed as Commissioner of the Dockyard at Antigua, and to have some

difficulties with Nelson.

The allies returned in triumph to Cadiz, and their success encouraged

the Spaniards to persevere in the war. A great fleet collected in the

port in October,—Spanish ships, Frenchmen from Brest and from Toulon,

and Guichen with a worn-out squadron from the West Indies; but it did

nothing, and scattered to winter quarters.

In 1781 the war grew in intensity. Disputes arising partly out of the

exercise by the British Government of its claim to take an enemy’s

goods out of a neutral ship, and partly out of the encouragement given

to the Americans by the city of Amsterdam, led to a declaration of

war on the Dutch Republic by Great Britain in December 1780. To guard

against an attack by the Dutch on the trade with the Baltic, from

whence our naval stores were mainly drawn, it was necessary to station

a squadron in the North Sea, which threw an additional burden on the

already heavily taxed navy. Every ship which could be patched up for

service had to be put into commission. The number of vessels in “full

sea pay” was 398, and 90,000 men, including 20,000 marines, were voted

to form the crews.

So many were the calls on the navy that it was not possible to collect

sufficient line-of-battle ships for service in home waters. The nominal

superiority of the allies was overwhelming, but the difference between

paper and real strength has rarely been better shown than in this year.

The Dutch were not ready. The French, though incomparably the most

formidable of our enemies, could not man and officer all their ships

effectively. The Spaniards were miserably inefficient. France and Spain

alike were intent on pushing the war in America, or in endeavouring to

recover Minorca and Gibraltar. Both dreaded the dangers of the Channel.

Thus no resolute effort was made to assail Great Britain itself. In

America our enemies gained, by the intelligent use of their fleets,

the success which established the independence of the United States.

In European waters the British Government was compelled to leave the

garrison of Minorca to its fate. After a siege begun on the 18th August

1781, it surrendered on the 4th February 1782. Yet the foundations of

our power were not only not shaken, but were not seriously menaced.

Before taking up the story of the war in American waters, it will be

convenient to show how the heart of the empire was guarded, and how

the forces on both sides started for operations in distant seas. The

British Government had to provide first of all for the free movement of

its trade—a task greatly complicated by the war with Holland. Then it

had to reinforce its squadrons in America, to endeavour to strengthen

its general position by seizing the Dutch possessions at the Cape,

and by providing for the safety of Gibraltar. The great fortress was

on a superficial view a mere burden on the fleet throughout the war.

Three great armaments had to be sent for its relief first and last.

Two of them were provided only by leaving the Channel with small or

no protection. Some English public men were of opinion that it might

be profitably exchanged for an island in the West Indies. Yet it

attracted a large part of the enemy’s forces which might have been

employed with more damaging results to us elsewhere. It is true that

for this we have to thank the want of intelligence of our opponents.

To recover Gibraltar was an object for which the King of Spain was

prepared to make every effort, and he could think of no other way of

taking it than by direct siege. His Ambassador in Paris, the Count of

Aranda, had sagacity enough to see that it might be recovered “in the

heart of Jamaica.” Aranda could, however, secure no hearing. So long

as our opponents were intent on mastering Gibraltar by bombardment and

blockade, the obvious interest of England was to keep it from capture.

Nor could the pride of the nation be reconciled to the surrender of

this trophy of former wars. Its importance to the ultimate interests

of the naval power of Great Britain was to be amply proved in the next

war.

To provide for the free movement of the trade a small squadron of one

line-of-battle ship and a few frigates was stationed early in the year

on the east coast of Scotland. Privateers, American and French, had

already been active in those waters, and were now to be reinforced

by the Dutch, who, when once at war, set vigorously to work to make

up for the neglect of their fleet in previous years. Commodore Keith

Stuart, who was in command of the small protecting force, found it

insufficient. The history of the war in the North Sea during 1781 shows

with what difficulty and at what a cost trade is carried on when the

command of the sea is disputed. The =Artois= frigate was appointed

to protect the merchant-ships bound to the Baltic. During the spring

200 merchant-vessels collected in the Firth of Forth. They were

detained at first by weather, and then by orders from the Admiralty,

which feared that they would be captured by Dutch frigates. Their

provisions were consumed and heavy expenses incurred. In the meantime

another flock of trading-ships had been collected on the east coast,

and was sent to the Firth of Forth under the protection of a squadron

commanded by the Vice-Admiral Parker whose services in the West

Indies have been mentioned. He came up from the Downs collecting the

traders on his way. On the 10th June he had collected his charge, 500

merchant-ships in all, at Leith. Before he could see them on their way,

the homeward-bound convoy from Jamaica came in—seventy trading-craft

under the protection of four sail of the line, one 50-gun and one

44-gun ship—much battered by storms, and infested with scurvy after a

long voyage. The West Indiamen stopped only to obtain fresh vegetables,

and then continued their voyage to the South. On the 27th June Parker

sailed, saw his convoy safe to the Baltic, and then cruised in the

North Sea, waiting for the homeward-bound ships.

The condition of Parker’s squadron shows that the Admiralty had indeed

been driven to sore straits to provide protection for the North Sea

trade. After he had been joined by Stuart with the =Berwick=, 74, he

was able to make up a line of seven vessels in all, but it was only

by including two which were not line-of-battle ships—the =Preston=,

50, and the =Dolphin=, 44. The =Princess Amelia=, 80, was nominally

a strong ship, but she was so crazy with age that it had been found

necessary to reduce her armament. She carried only 24-pounders on

the lower deck instead of 32-pounders, and the rest of her guns were

18-pounders and 9-pounders. Parker’s flagship, the =Fortitude=, 74, and

the =Berwick= represented the solid part of his command. If the Dutch

had been able to send an equal squadron of strong ships, it would have

gone hard with “Vinegar” Parker. Happily for him and for the interests

of British trade, the Dutch had to make shift with the old and weak

when they needed the new and strong. On the 20th July a squadron of

seven ships, to form the line, and a number of frigates sailed from

the Texel with a large fleet of merchant-ships under their protection.

The admiral in command was the Schout-bij-nacht Johan Arnold Zoutman,

an elderly officer, of the same stamp as his English opponent, an

excellent practical seaman beyond doubt, and a stout-hearted man, but

nothing more. His line of seven was made by including three ships

of 54 guns and one of 40. The largest of his ships was the _Admiral

Generaal_, 74, commanded by Captain Kinsbergen. Zoutman’s flag was in

the _Admiraal de Ruiter_, 68, and one 64-gun ship, the _Holland_, made

up the tale. Other two ships were sent out to accompany the convoy, but

were not available for an action with the British squadron.

Contrary winds and the usual obstructions inseparable from the task

of convoying a swarm of clumsy merchant-ships delayed Zoutman’s

movements. It was not till the first days of August that he was clear

of the shallows of the Dutch coast. In the meantime, the British trade

homeward bound from the Baltic had collected behind Parker. On the 5th

August the Dutchman bound northward, and the Englishman southward,

sighted one another on the Dogger Bank, in a north-westerly wind—Parker

being to the windward and westward. Each admiral sent his convoy on its

way, and both prepared for a fair trial of strength.

The battle which followed has an almost pathetic interest. It was one

of the last fought on the old traditional rules, and it was fought

by men who played the game with a single heart. Therefore it showed

what was best in those rules, their downright manhood, and what was

weakest, their hidebound pedantry. Zoutman seeing that Parker had

the weather-gage and the option of battle, lay to on the port tack,

heading to the north. Sir Hyde Parker bore down to engage from van to

rear, every man to take his bird. His flagship was in her orthodox

place, the middle, which in a line of seven was the fourth. Zoutman

was the fifth in his line. Now the proper opponent for an admiral

is an admiral. Parker therefore laid the =Fortitude= alongside the

_Admiraal de Ruiter_. But as there were three ships ahead of him and

three astern, while there were four ships ahead and two astern of

Zoutman, it followed that there were three English to four Dutch in

the van, and three to two in the rear. The last ship of Parker’s line

had consequently no opponent. In the van the =Berwick=, 74, was very

rightly laid alongside the leading Dutchman, the _Erzprinz_, 54. The

second English ship tackled the third Dutchman, and the third the

fourth. Therefore the second Dutchman had no opponent. Yet every ship

was kept in its position, since the signal for the line was flying. Not

a shot was fired by the Dutch as their enemies came down to the attack.

They lay quiet, with their marines admirably pipeclayed drawn up on

their poops. When the other sportsman was comfortably in his place,

Zoutman opened fire. English and Dutch pounded one another with stolid

resolution. The loyalty of the seamen of the time to the superstition

of the line of battle was wonderfully shown in the van. Commodore

Stuart had rightly closed with the leading Dutch ship to prevent her

from getting to windward and doubling on the head of our line. The

=Berwick= being a far heavier ship than the _Erzprinz_, was able to

drive her to leeward. In following up the attack the =Berwick= fell

to leeward, and then finding herself out of her proper place, tacked

back to resume her station. The battle was a cannonade of three hours

and a half. At the end of that time the Dutch drew off, and Parker did

not pursue. His ships were severely damaged, and his casualty list,

111 killed and 318 wounded, was a more severe loss than any suffered

in action with the French in this war, in proportion to the number

engaged. Zoutman returned to port, and Parker continued his voyage

home. The safe arrival of the Baltic convoy was a subject of very

natural rejoicing, and much was made of Parker’s “victory,” though

victory there was none. He for his part was discontented, and resigned

his command, saying, we are told, that he wished the king younger

admirals and better ships. At a later period he was chosen to command

in the East Indies. He sailed in the =Cato=, 50, for his station. His

fate is unknown, for he never reached his destination, and no trace of

him was left, save a vague story that a great ship, which may have been

his, had been wrecked on the coast of Malabar, and that the survivors

of the crew had been massacred by the natives.

While these operations were running their indecisive course in the

North Sea, two great armaments had sailed from Spithead and from Brest,

each on a distant mission, and each carrying with it subordinate

squadrons to be detached for still more remote destinations. On the

13th March Admiral Darby sailed from Spithead with twenty-eight

line-of-battle ships. Some were to be detached to the West Indies, and

others to sail for the Cape of Good Hope and take it from the Dutch,

when Darby’s immediate service was performed. He had also with him the

outward-bound East Indiamen. His orders were to collect the vessels

laden with provisions in Irish ports for the use of the garrisons of

Gibraltar and Mahon, to convoy them to the fortresses, to detach the

reinforcements for the West Indies, and the squadron destined to the

Cape with the East Indiamen under its charge, and to return to the

Channel. To meet the victuallers, he steered for the south coast of

Ireland, and was there delayed till they joined him from Cork. While

Darby was waiting on the south coast of Ireland the Comte de Grasse

left Brest on the 22nd March, with twenty sail of the line, bound for

the West Indies, and having with him a small squadron to be detached

for an attack on the British settlements in the East Indies. Darby,

having collected his victuallers, went on his way, and Grasse on his

without a meeting. The strenuous futility which is conspicuous in the

operations of all parties in this war was never more visible than in

this misuse of two great fleets. If Darby had fallen on Grasse and had

driven him back to Brest, the Americans would have been deprived of

the aid which enabled them to take Yorktown at the close of the year.

If Grasse had been joined by even six or eight Spanish ships in an

efficient state, and had fought a whole-hearted battle with Darby off

the Old Head of Kinsale, it is possible that the entire naval defence

of Great Britain might have been ruined, and it is eminently probable

that the relief of Gibraltar would have been stopped—in which case the

fortress must have fallen for it was at the end of its resources. But

the rulers in London and Paris had their eyes on the end of the earth

and could not see that victory at home would mean success all over the

world.

The web of naval warfare covered the North Atlantic, the threads

crossed, the shuttle flew to and fro. All were players in the same game

and each acted on the other. The squadrons detached to the Cape and

the Indian Ocean by Darby and Grasse went into a wider field and acted

apart. The North Sea was a field by itself, but the other fleets and

squadrons from Newport in Rhode Island, down the East Coast of America

to the West Indies, across the Atlantic to the Straits of Gibraltar,

and north to the Channel, worked together, and on one another in

harmony or in conflict. Let us see how the players stood when Darby

sailed from the south of Ireland for Gibraltar, and Grasse steered from

Brest for the West Indies.

When the year began the French squadron of seven sail of the line and

two frigates lay at Newport. It was commanded by Chevalier Destouches,

who succeeded to the command on the death of Ternay, on the 15th

December 1780. Arbuthnot was in command of the British squadron of

eight ships of the line, two 50-gun ships, and twenty-three frigates,

with his headquarters at Long Island. His ships had to patrol the

coast and to co-operate with the British forces acting in the southern

Colonies. In January he sailed to reconnoitre the French, but on the

23rd his squadron was beaten back by a violent gale. The =Culloden=,

74, was lost on the end of Long Island, and the =Bedford=, 74,

dismasted. The =America=, 74, was driven out to sea, and did not rejoin

his flag for weeks. Washington throughout the year was striving to

bring about a concentration of French and American forces on either the

northern or southern parts of the divided British. He urged Destouches

to put to sea while Arbuthnot was disabled. But the Frenchman was

oppressed by anxiety lest the stormy weather should be as fatal to

him as to his opponent. He sent Le Gardeur de Tilly with one 64 and

two frigates to fall on the British transports of Arnold’s force in

Virginia. The French officer found that they had taken refuge in

Elizabeth River, and returned. On his way to Rhode Island he captured

the =Romulus=, 44, and a number of prizes. Meanwhile Arbuthnot lay at

Gardiner Bay in Long Island. Under the steady driving of Washington,

Destouches got to sea on the 8th March, with seven of the line and two

frigates—one of them the captured =Romulus=, and 1500 French soldiers

under Viomesnil, to reinforce the Americans in Virginia. On the 10th

Arbuthnot followed him with eight ships of the line and two frigates.

The two steered for the Chesapeake in squally weather, mists, and

driving rain. The English squadron was the quicker of the two. On

the 16th March it overtook the French between forty and fifty miles

N.E. by E. of Cape Henry. It was in the power of Arbuthnot to put

himself to leeward of Destouches, and between him and the coast in the

north-easterly wind. But faithful to tradition he let the Frenchman run

to leeward of him, and then made two rushes at him in the old style.

The Frenchman as usual fired to dismast and slipped away. Yet Arbuthnot

was the more pertinacious of the two. After an inconclusive action

he anchored at Lynn Haven in the Chesapeake, and Destouches, finding

the road still barred, went back to Rhode Island. Arbuthnot came back

to Long Island, having at least baffled the enemy’s attempt to carry

reinforcements to Virginia, so that at the close of March both were

again “as they were” at Long Island and at Newport.

Meanwhile events of no very honourable character had occurred in the

West Indies. Rodney had returned to his station, the Leeward Islands,

from North America on the 12th of December 1780. He was soon joined by

Samuel Hood with reinforcements from Europe. Hood, when the war began,

had been commissioner of the dockyard at Portsmouth. The acceptance

of this post was by custom held to mark an officer’s final retirement

from active sea service. But the Admiralty wished to supply Rodney

with a second in command who would work more harmoniously with him than

Parker. Hood had served under Rodney’s eye at the beginning of his

career. He had been captain of the =Vestal=, from which Rodney directed

an attack on a French flotilla in 1759. The refusal of many flag

officers to take commands while Sandwich remained First Lord supplied

another reason for departing from usage. Hood, who was no political

partisan, or who at least was no Whig, was included in a promotion

of flag officers, and was sent with reinforcements and a large trade

convoy to the West Indies. Soon after he joined, the =Childers= sloop

brought news of the outbreak of the war with Holland.

No more welcome message could have reached the ear of Sir George,

for it brought to a very embarrassed man the hope of infinite prize

money. The Dutch Island of St. Eustatius, lying high up in the Lesser

Antilles, had been used for the purpose to which the British port of

Nassau in the Bahamas was put in the American Civil War. It had become

a great dépôt of contraband, by which the French profited largely. It

was also the seat of an unwonted trade of more legitimate character.

The West Indian planters were under the necessity of buying all the

food for their slaves in the North American colonies. As the supply

could not be stopped without producing ruin to the British Islands,

Government was compelled to relax the rigour of its navigation laws,

and permit the planters to obtain supplies through neutral ports. This

authorised trade concentrated at St. Eustatius. Maize and pork were

brought from America, and British goods were brought to pay for them.

Long rows of warehouses sprang up on the usually empty shore of the one

landing place of the Dutch island.

The news that St. Eustatius was fair prize reached Rodney on the 27th

January. On the 3rd February he seized the island. The neighbouring

port of Saba was taken at the same time, and a Dutch convoy was

followed and captured. From that moment and for the ensuing weeks

Rodney became blind to the interest of his country and to his own

honour in the contemplation of the stupendous mass of booty which was

at last to make him a rich man. A part of his force was to have sailed

to seize the Dutch possessions on the mainland of South America. The

admiral would not part with a ship. Essequibo and Surinam were left

to be taken by a swarm of privateers. There was no French force in

the Leeward Islands except four of the line at Fort Royal. Lest they

should come to molest him at St. Eustatius Rodney stationed the bulk

of his fleet outside that port. In vain did Hood, who was detached

for the blockade, point out that the belt of calm under the land of

Martinique, the fitful breezes, and the westerly set of the current

in the Caribbean Sea made it impossible to lie close up to the land

and intercept reinforcements coming to the French from Europe. In vain

did he ask leave to cruise to windward of Martinique on the track of

any French force which might be coming. Rodney, reduced to the moral

level of a buccaneer, would think of nothing except that if Hood were

to windward of the island, the French at Fort Royal might slip out

and recapture the booty at St. Eustatius. There he himself remained

superintending the sorting and packing of the spoil. In that position

they were at the end of April when Grasse was seen coming round the

south end of Martinique on the 28th April.

While the French admiral was crossing the Atlantic Darby had carried

out the relief of Gibraltar. He saw the ships ordered to the East

Indies safe on their way, and on the 11th April was off Cadiz. His

look-out frigates counted thirty-six Spanish sail of the line at anchor

in the port. They had grown foul while blockading the fortress, and

had run out of stores. They were in fact “wanting in everything at the

critical moment,” as Wellington was to find the Spanish armies at no

distant day. Córdoba, their admiral, was a man of childlike faith and

piety. When a French officer came to expostulate on the scandalous

spectacle presented by a fleet of thirty-six sail which allowed a

weaker force to relieve the fortress under its eyes, he left his cabin

with his rosary in his hand. He listened to the carnal arguments of the

Frenchman, and then replied with saintly unction, that it had pleased

God to make the English stronger on the present occasion, but that he

would doubtless give the superiority to the Spaniards in his own good

time. He then went back to his prayers. Darby was allowed to carry

his convoy into Gibraltar, and to despatch others to Mahon not yet

besieged. He met no opposition from the Spaniards except from a few

rowing gunboats, which fired at him from a respectful distance, when

the breeze had fallen. On the 19th April he sailed for home—his work

done. He swept close by Cadiz, “lifting his leg on the Spaniards” as

Horace Walpole puts it, but they would not come out.

On his way back he missed a piece of service which would have given

him a well-earned reward. While he was to the south the convoy which

Rodney had taken from the Dutch, together with much of his booty, was

on its way home. Another rich convoy was due from Jamaica. The French

Government had news of them, and sent six sail of the line and four

frigates and sloops to intercept them. La Motte Picquet fell in with

Rodney’s prize convoy about sixty miles to the west of the Scilly

Isles. They were under the protection of Commodore Hotham with two

line-of-battle ships and three frigates. Seeing the superiority of the

French, Hotham ordered his convoy to disperse, and drew his warships

into a line. But the Frenchman followed the booty and Hotham was not

alert enough to molest him. Twenty of the convoy were taken. La Motte

Picquet, satisfied with his gains, now turned home to Brest. It was

well for him that he did. Darby was informed of the capture of Hotham’s

convoy, and at once sent Rear-Admiral Digby with a squadron to effect

its recapture. But Digby never sighted the chase. The look-out ship

of the main force with Darby, the =Nonsuch=, 64, commanded by Captain

Sir James Wallace, fell in with one of La Motte Picquet’s ships, the

_Actif_, 74, commanded by M. de Boades, and the two fought a desperate

action, which lasted through hours of the night of the 14th May.

Both were severely mauled. The =Nonsuch= lost twenty-six men killed,

and sixty-four wounded; the _Actif_ fifteen killed and thirty-eight

wounded. The action may be quoted to prove that there was at this time

no difference in efficiency between the best ships in the French navy

and our own. La Motte Picquet took his prizes into Brest, and with them

the fortune of Rodney. Little was left to the admiral except a ruinous

series of lawsuits, brought against him by British merchants engaged in

the authorised trade at St. Eustatius, whose goods he had impounded

without discrimination. The Jamaica convoy got safe to port. Darby

anchored at Spithead on the 22nd May.

On that very day Rodney was hurrying from Antigua to Barbadoes to make

good the consequences of his mismanagement in March and April. On the

28th April the Comte de Grasse was seen coming round the southern end

of Martinique, and now began a series of operations in which all the

movements of the British fleet were dictated by the French admiral,

and all led up to loss. Hood, held back to leeward by Rodney’s orders,

the wind, the calm, and the current, could do nothing to prevent

his opponent from hugging the shore and reaching Fort Royal with

his warships and convoy. On the 29th Grasse was joined by the four

line-of-battle ships in the fort. On that day, on the 30th and on the

1st May, encounters took place between the two fleets. Grasse, having

ulterior objects to achieve, would not allow himself to be drawn into

close action. The well-trained French captains of guns made excellent

practice. Several of Hood’s ships suffered severe damage in their

spars, and one, the =Russell=, 74, was badly injured on the water-line.

All of course were proportionately disabled for working to windward.

Hood, finding himself outmatched in force and his fleet diminished by

damage, drew off to the north and sent the injured =Russell= into St.

Eustatius. She reached it on the 4th May, and brought Rodney the first

news that Grasse had reached Martinique. He sailed to join Hood on the

6th with the two ships of the line he had kept with him, and on the

9th joined his subordinate between Montserrat and Antigua. Injuries to

ships and want of stores made it necessary for him to take the whole

fleet to the dockyard at Antigua.

Grasse, having the Caribbean Sea open before him, free to go where he

pleased and strike where he chose, left Fort Royal on the 9th May to

retake Santa Lucia. The attack was made on the 11th and 12th without

success. The strength of the British posts on Pigeon Island, the Morne

Fortuné, and the Vigil enabled General St. Leger to hold out. He was

aided by a small squadron under Commodore Linzee. The discovery that

the British posts were strong, and apprehension that Rodney might

appear, induced the French admiral to embark the soldiers he had landed

and return to Fort Royal. Rodney was indeed at sea, and had steered to

assist Santa Lucia. He received news of the retreat of the enemy when

near Barbadoes on the 23rd May. As that island was ill prepared for an

attack, and his fleet still in need of stores with many sick in the

crews, Rodney anchored in Carlisle Bay. Grasse had decided to fly at

lesser game, and was content to retake Tobago. An advance squadron of

his fleet first appeared off the island. It had been detached before

the attack—which the French historians, with some economy of truth,

call a false attack—on Santa Lucia. Colonel Ferguson, the Governor of

Tobago, appealed for help to Rodney, and the admiral, who received the

message on the 27th May, sent Rear-Admiral Sir Samuel Drake on the

29th with three ships of the line, three frigates, and three sloops to

his assistance. Hardly was Drake out of sight before news came that

Grasse had sailed on the 22nd from Fort Royal apparently bound for

Tobago. Rodney was in no small anxiety for his subordinate, but Drake,

who sighted the whole French fleet off Tobago on the 30th, retreated

in time. The French had landed at Great Courland Bay on the 24th, and

Ferguson, who had but four hundred men and some armed blacks, retreated

into the hills, hoping to hold out till Rodney could come. But Bouillé

arrived on the 31st May. He was ever a partisan of “thorough,” and well

knew there was no time to waste. By his orders two plantations were

fired _in terrorem_, and the clamours of the planters, who formed a

large part of his force, compelled the governor to surrender on the 2nd

June. When Rodney came from Barbadoes on the 3rd the mischief was done.

Until the 9th both fleets manœuvred along the string of small islands

called the Grenadines, till Rodney, finding that he could not bring his

enemy to close action, returned to Barbadoes, and Grasse went north to

Fort Royal.

Strenuous futility continued to be the note of the operations on both

sides. The end of all this display of force by Grasse had been the

transfer of a small island from England to France. In Paris there was

indeed a very general belief that Grasse had not done enough. His

nephew, who carried home his despatches reporting the operations off

Fort Royal from the 29th April to 1st May, had a very cold reception

from the king. The admiral’s excuse that the British ships were all

coppered and sailed better than his own was grimly received. If we

are to accept it the French officer deserved high credit for baffling

Rodney’s efforts to bring him to battle between the 3rd and 9th

June—credit, that is, for skill if not for high spirit. The English

reader may be excused for not accepting it at once, for, if it is well

founded, Rodney was grievously to blame for allowing himself to be

baffled. But this lament of want of speed is heard on both sides, till

we are almost forced to regard it as a standing excuse. Sir George’s

failure can be sufficiently explained by the fact that his mind had

been clouded by a passion of avarice at St. Eustatius, and that his

health was breaking down. He was not free either in body or mind to

give minute attention to his command. His solitary habits grew on him,

and his second in command, Hood, angered by the distant hauteur of his

chief, paid sullen and exact obedience to orders and held his peace. In

his letters he repaid himself by scornful invective.

On his return to Fort Royal Grasse prepared for the vigorous campaign

which was to redeem his reputation and to decide the war in North

America. All through the war Washington had been eagerly pressing for

a combined attack on the British forces either in New York or in the

South, and Grasse had orders to co-operate. Washington would have

preferred the first, but when he found that the French preferred the

second he accepted the alternative. Grasse left Fort Royal on the 5th

July for Cape Français (now Cape Haytien) in San Domingo, taking with

him a convoy of 200 merchant ships. At Cape Français he received the

pressing appeals of Washington and the French authorities to come on

to North America with ships, troops, and bullion. The ships he had,

and he increased them by taking the vessels already at Cape Français

which were destined to convoy the trade home. The merchant ships were

ordered to remain in the colony till the next season—a bold measure,

which would probably have been beyond the courage of a British

admiral who served a commercial state. Three thousand two hundred

troops with ten field pieces and a siege train were lent him by M. de

Lillancourt, governor of Saint Domingo. Bullion he could not obtain

in the French colony. An appeal to the Spaniards at Havana produced

about £60,000. On the 28th July Grasse sent the _Concorde_ frigate with

the announcement that he was coming, and on the 5th August he sailed

through the Bahama Channel for the Chesapeake, carrying the troops in

his warships so as not to be hampered by transports.

Rodney was informed by Captain Forde of =La Nymphe=, who had seen the

French at sea on the 5th July, that Grasse had sailed. He at once

concluded that the French admiral was bound to the coast of America,

and he prepared to reinforce the British squadron on the station.

For himself he could not go. His health had broken down, and it was

impossible for him to face an autumn campaign in the searching cold

of the North. He handed over his command to Hood with orders to take

fourteen sail of the line to America, and then on the 1st August sailed

with a convoy for Europe.

All now began to move to the decisive point at Yorktown. Arbuthnot had

resigned his command and had gone home on the 2nd July. His successor,

Rear-Admiral Graves, began by sending information to Rodney that the

French fleet was believed to be coming from the West Indies. Then

leaving Captain Edmond Affleck at New York he went to sea himself with

six ships of the line, to intercept reinforcements from Europe for the

enemy, to cover the movements of our own convoys, to watch Boston,

and, if possible, to meet whatever ships Rodney might send him from

the West Indies. Sir George had acted, as we have seen, on his own

initiative, and had sent the sloop =Swallow= to report the approaching

arrival of Hood. The =Swallow= reached New York on the 27th July, and

was sent on by Affleck to meet Graves at sea. She unhappily fell in

with two privateers, by whom she was driven on shore and destroyed. The

=Active=, sent by Hood to report that he was coming, was also taken,

and neither message reached Graves. Hearing nothing, and being in want

of stores, the admiral returned to Sandy Hook on the 16th August.

Hood in the meantime had sailed from Antigua on the 10th August, and

on the 27th he was off the Chesapeake. Finding no British force there

he went on to Sandy Hook on the 28th. Forty-eight hours after he had

gone Grasse arrived with twenty-eight sail of the line, and two 50-gun

ships. He anchored at Lynn Haven. Thus Lord Cornwallis, who had been

compelled to evacuate the Carolinas, and had marched through Virginia

to Yorktown, where all his troops were collected by the 22nd August,

was cut off from communication with New York by sea, while Washington,

with the American troops, and Rochambeau, with the French, were

gathering round him by land.

Whether he could have been saved from the superior forces collecting

about him is perhaps doubtful. Whatever chance he had was lost through

want of aid from General Clinton in New York, who continued to believe

that he, and not Cornwallis, would be attacked. The violent controversy

between the generals does not require to be dealt with here. On the

return of Graves, Clinton urged him to attack the French squadron at

Newport. The admiral had, however, to reprovision his ships, and he

received two pieces of information in quick succession which disposed

of any plan for an attack on Newport. On the 16th August =La Nymphe=

joined him with the report that Hood was on his way, and a few days

later he learnt that the French squadron, commanded since the 6th

May by the Chef d’escadre Barras de San Laurent who had superseded

Destouches, had sailed to the southward. When Hood appeared off the bar

of Sandy Hook, Graves came out to join him on the 1st September, and

their united forces steered for the Chesapeake to intercept Barras.

On the 5th September the British fleet of twenty-one sail of the line

was off Cape Henry, and the advance ship, the =Solebay=, signalled the

presence of a French fleet in Lynn Haven. Admiral Graves formed his

line of battle and stood on. Grasse shipped his cables and stood out

with twenty-four of the line, forming his array as he went. When the

two were nearly opposite one another, the British to windward in a fine

breeze from the N.N.E., Graves wore his fleet together, and bore down

on the enemy, both lines being on the port tack and heading to sea. A

sudden shift of the wind and a shoal called the Middle Ground hampered

the movements of the fleets. The British line was not all brought into

action, for it struck on the enemy at an angle, thus only the van under

Rear-Admiral Drake was closely engaged. The rear under Hood might have

brought the enemy to close action if it had been allowed to break

the line. But Graves adhered to the old rule which prescribes the

maintenance of the same formation throughout a battle. So the French

were once more allowed to slip away after crippling several ships of

the British van, and damaging one, the =Terrible=, 74, so severely that

it was found necessary to take her men and stores out, and set her on

fire on the 11th. Both fleets remained out for some days without again

coming to action. On the 9th Grasse returned to Lynn Haven. During

his absence Barras had slipped in with six sail of the line, bringing

with him the battering train about to be used against Cornwallis at

Yorktown. He found two British frigates, detached by Graves to cut away

the buoys left by Grasse on his anchors, and captured them both. After

destroying the =Terrible=, Graves looked into the Chesapeake again,

and finding the enemy too strong to be attacked, sailed away to Sandy

Hook, which he reached on the 19th September. Cornwallis was left to

his fate. Graves was joined on the 24th by Rear-Admiral Digby with

three sail of the line, and the news of his appointment to the Jamaica

station, and a few days later by two other ships from the West Indies.

He sailed on the 17th October on a forlorn effort to save Cornwallis,

who had been forced to surrender on that very day. The British fleet

looked again into the Chesapeake, saw that all was over, and returned

to Sandy Hook. Graves then handed over the command to his successor,

Digby, and left for his new station.

The fall of Yorktown was the practical end of the war in North America.

While Cornwallis’s army was undergoing its fate, the allies had made

another idle demonstration at the mouth of the Channel. Thirty-six

sail of the line, under Don Luis de Córdoba, appeared at its entrance

early in August, while thirteen others cruised on the coast of Ireland

to intercept trade. Darby, weakened by the departure of Digby for

America, was with difficulty reinforced to thirty sail, and had to

lie at anchor in Torbay. The allies, who had come on the very tardy

reflection that the best way to prevent relief to Gibraltar or Minorca

was to watch the mouth of the Channel, did not dare to attack him. They

feared to be crushed in detail if they attacked in line ahead, and were

persuaded they had no room (they might have been persuaded that they

had no seamanship), to attack in line abreast. On the 14th September

Darby put to sea to make an effort, and found the enemy gone. They had

in fact separated on the 5th September in wretched health. The French

went home to Brest, the Spaniards to Cadiz, whence eighteen of the

least inefficient of them sailed under Don Miguel Gaston to escort the

treasure ships from America. In the absence of an enemy the service was

successfully performed. Darby remained at sea till November to protect

trade.

A Short History of the Royal Navy, 1217-1815. Volume II, 1689-1815 · 第 8 / 17 章