The recent close of the nineteenth century has familiarized us with the
thought that such an epoch tends naturally to provoke an estimate of the
advance made in the various spheres of human activity during the period
which it terminates. Such a reckoning, however, is not a mere matter of
more and less, of comparison between the beginning and the end,
regardless of intermediate circumstances. The question involved is one
of an historical process, of cause and effect; of an evolution, probably
marked, as such series of events commonly are, by certain salient
incidents, the way-marks of progress which show the road traversed and
the succession of stages through which the past has become the present.
Frequently, also, such development associates itself not only with
conspicuous events, but with the names of great men, to whom, either by
originality of genius or by favoring opportunity, it has fallen to
illustrate in action the changes which have a more silent antecedent
history in the experience and reflection of mankind.
The development of naval warfare in the eighteenth century, its advance
in spirit and methods, is thus exemplified in certain striking events,
and yet more impressively is identified with the great names of Hawke
and Rodney. The period of nearly half a generation intervened between
their births, but they were contemporaries and actors, though to no
large extent associates, during the extensive wars that occupied the
middle of the century--the War of the Austrian Succession, 1739-1748,
and the Seven Years War, 1756-1763. These two conflicts are practically
one; the same characteristic jealousies and motives being common to
both, as they were also to the period of nominal peace, but scarcely
veiled contention, by which they were separated. The difference of age
between the two admirals contributed not only to obviate rivalry, by
throwing their distinctive activities into different generations, but
had, as it were, the effect of prolonging their influence beyond that
possible to a single lifetime, thus constituting it into a continuous
and fruitful development.
They were both successful men, in the ordinary acceptation of the word
success. They were great, not only in professional character, but in the
results which do not always attend professional desert; they were great
in achievement. Each name is indissolubly linked with a brilliant
victory, as well as with other less known but equally meritorious
actions; in all of which the personal factor of the principal agent, the
distinctive qualities of the commander-in-chief, powerfully contributed
and were conspicuously illustrated. These were, so to say, the examples,
that enforced upon the men of their day the professional ideas by which
the two admirals were themselves dominated, and upon which was forming a
school, with professional standards of action and achievement destined
to produce great effects.
Yet, while this is so, and while such emphatic demonstrations by deeds
undoubtedly does more than any other teaching to influence
contemporaries, and so to promote professional development, it is
probably true that, as a matter of historical illustration, the advance
of the eighteenth century in naval warfare is more clearly shown by two
great failures, for neither of which were these officers responsible,
and in one only of which in fact did either appear, even in a
subordinate capacity. The now nearly forgotten miscarriage of Admiral
Mathews off Toulon, in 1744, and the miserable incompetency of Byng, at
Minorca, in 1756, remembered chiefly because of the consequent execution
of the admiral, serve at least, historically, to mark the low extreme to
which had then sunk professional theory and practice--for both were
there involved. It is, however, not only as a point of departure from
which to estimate progress that these battles--if they deserve the
name--are historically useful. Considered as the plane to which
exertion, once well directed and virile, had gradually declined through
the prevalence of false ideals, they link the seventeenth century to the
eighteenth, even as the thought and action--the theory and practice--of
Hawke and Rodney uplifted the navy from the inefficiency of Mathews and
Byng to the crowning glories of the Nile and Trafalgar, with which the
nineteenth century opened. It is thus, as the very bottom of the wave,
that those singular and signal failures have their own distinctive
significance in the undulations of the onward movement. On the one hand
they are not unaccountable, as though they, any more than the Nile and
Trafalgar, were without antecedent of cause; and on the other they
serve, as a background at least, to bring out the figures of the two
admirals now before us, and to define their true historical import, as
agents and as exponents, in the changes of their day.
It is, therefore, important to the comprehension of the changes effected
in that period of transition, for which Hawke and Rodney stand, to
recognize the distinctive lesson of each of these two abortive actions,
which together may be said to fix the zero of the scale by which the
progress of the eighteenth century is denoted. They have a relation to
the past as well as to the future, standing far below the level of the
one and of the other, through causes that can be assigned. Naval warfare
in the past, in its origin and through long ages, had been waged with
vessels moved by oars, which consequently, when conditions permitted
engaging at all, could be handled with a scope and freedom not securable
with the uncertain factor of the wind. The motive power of the sea,
therefore, then resembled essentially that of the land,--being human
muscle and staying power, in the legs on shore and in the arms at sea.
Hence, movements by masses, by squadrons, and in any desired direction
corresponding to a fixed plan, in order to concentrate, or to
outflank,--all these could be attempted with a probability of success
not predicable of the sailing ship. Nelson's remarkable order at
Trafalgar, which may almost be said to have closed and sealed the record
of the sail era, began by assuming the extreme improbability of being
able at any given moment to move forty ships of his day in a fixed order
upon an assigned plan. The galley admiral therefore wielded a weapon far
more flexible and reliable, within the much narrower range of its
activities, than his successor in the days of sail; and engagements
between fleets of galleys accordingly reflected this condition, being
marked not only by greater carnage, but by tactical combinations and
audacity of execution, to which the sailing ship did not so readily lend
itself.
When the field of naval warfare became extended beyond the
Mediterranean,--for long centuries its principal scene,--the galley no
longer met the more exacting nautical conditions; and the introduction
of cannon, involving new problems of tactics and ship-building,
accelerated its disappearance. The traditions of galley-fighting,
however, remained, and were reinforced by the habits of land
fighting,--the same men in fact commanding armies on shore and fleets at
sea. In short, a period of transition ensued, marked, as such in their
beginnings are apt to be, by an evident lack of clearness in men's
appreciation of conditions, and of the path of development, with a
consequent confusion of outline in their practice. It is not always easy
to understand either what was done, or what was meant to be done, during
that early sail era; but two things appear quite certainly. There is
still shown the vehemence and determination of action which
characterized galley fighting, visible constantly in the fierce effort
to grapple the enemy, to break his ranks, to confuse and crush him; and
further there is clear indication of tactical plan on the grand scale,
broad in outline and combination, involving different--but not
independent--action by the various great divisions of the fleet, each of
which, in plan at least, has its own part, subordinate but contributory
to the general whole.
The results, though not unimportant, were not satisfactory, for men
were compelled to see that from various causes the huge numbers brought
upon the field lapsed into confusion, and that battle, however well
planned in large outline, resolved itself into a mere mass of warring
units incoherently struggling one with another. There was lack of
proportion between effort exerted and effect achieved. A period of
systematization and organization set in. Unwieldy numbers were reduced
to more manageable dimensions by excluding ships whose size and strength
did not add to the efficiency of the order of battle; the powers and
limitations of those which remained were studied, and certain simple
tactical dispositions, fitted to particular emergencies, were recognized
and adopted,--all tending to impart unity of movement and action, and to
keep the whole in regulated order under the hand of the
commander-in-chief, free from confusion.
To this point there was improvement; but reaction, as often, went too
far. The change in accepted ideas is emphatically shown by a comparison
of the Fighting Instructions of 1740 and 1756, when the crystallization
of the system was complete but disintegration had not yet begun, with
those issued in 1665 by the Duke of York, afterwards James II., at the
beginning of the second of the three Anglo-Dutch Wars. His in turn are
directly deducible from others framed shortly after the first war, in
1652-1654, when sail tactics had not passed the stage of infancy, and
were still strongly affected by the galley tradition. There is here
found, on the one hand, the prescription of the line of battle,--a
single column of ships formed in each other's wake,--with the provision
that if the enemy is to leeward, and awaits attack, the headmost
squadron of the British shall steer for the headmost of the enemy's
ships. This accords with the general tenor of the later Instructions;
but there occurs elsewhere, and previously, the direction that, when the
enemy is to windward, if the leading British Squadron finds it can
weather any considerable part of them, it is to "tack and stand in, and
strive to divide the enemy's body," and that, "being got to windward, is
to bear down on those ships to leeward of them," which have thus been
cut off.
The thing to be observed here is the separate, but positive, initiative
prescribed for a portion of the fleet, with a view to divide the enemy,
and then concentrate the whole fleet upon the fraction thus isolated.
The British van takes a particular, but not an independent, action; for
the other divisions contribute their part to the common purpose. "The
middle squadron is to keep her wind, and to observe the motion of the
enemy's van, which" [that is, "which" action of the middle squadron]
"the last squadron--the rear--is to second; and both of these squadrons
are to do their utmost to assist or relieve the first squadron, that
divided the enemy's fleet." Evidently here we have tactical combination
in order to decisive action; clearly contemplated also beforehand, not
merely by a capable individual general, but by the consensus of
professional opinion which such a paper as the Fighting Instructions
necessarily reflects. The stamp of the galley period is upon this:
strenuous and close battle, the piercing of the enemy's order, the
movement of the squadrons differentiated, in order that they may in a
real and effective sense _combine_, instead of being merely
_distributed_, as they afterwards were by both the letter of the later
Instructions and the tradition by which these became encrusted. Nor
should there be overlooked, in this connection, the discretion allowed
the centre and rear. They are to "keep their wind;" an expression which
leaves optional whether to tack, or stand as they are, whether to engage
the separated enemies to windward or to leeward, as occasion may offer,
in support of the van. The provisions of 1665 afterwards disappear. In
1740, and even as late as 1781, they are traceable only in certain
colorless articles, suggestive of the atrophied organs of a body
concerning whose past use physiologists may speculate.
As in the restoration of sounder methods, with which we shall be
concerned, this degeneration of ideals was a work of time. In June,
1666, the British met with a severe check in the Four Days Battle, in
which Monk, a soldier, commanded in chief. This reverse is chiefly to
be attributed to antecedent strategic errors, which made a portion only
of the available British force bear the brunt of the first three days;
but, among the inevitable criticisms, we find stress laid upon fighting
in line as essential to success. This insistence upon the line as an
effective instrument proceeded, among others, from Sir William Penn, a
seaman, and was at that time in the direction of professional advance.
The line had not yet obtained the general professional acceptance needed
to establish and utilize its indisputable value. This process was
gradual, but when effected it followed the usual laws of human
development; from a valuable means, it became in men's estimation an
exaggerated necessity. It came to pass in time that the line no longer
existed for tactics, but tactics for the line, in which they found their
consummation and end.
There intervened, however, a happier period,--one of transition,--and in
the third Anglo-Dutch war, 1672-1674, we seem to find a close approach
to just proportion between regularity of formation and decisive tactical
purpose; in which the principle of the line is recognized and observed,
but is utilized by professional audacity for definite and efficient
tactical action, aiming at conclusive results. The finest exponent of
this, the culminating epoch of naval warfare in the seventeenth century,
is the Dutchman Ruyter, who, taken altogether, was the greatest naval
seaman of that era, which may be roughly identified with the reign of
Charles II. After that, naval warfare was virtually suspended for
fifteen years, and when resumed in the last decade of the century, the
traces of incipient degeneracy can already be noted amid much brilliant
performance. From that time completeness of military achievement became
in men's minds less of an object than accurate observance of rule, and
in practice the defensive consideration of avoiding disaster began to
preponderate over offensive effort for the destruction of the enemy.
In the development of tactical science, the French had played a leading
part, as they usually have where reflective mental processes and formal
evolution of ideas are concerned. Among admirals, the greatest name of
this later period is the French Tourville, a master of the science of
his profession, and gifted with a personal courage of the heroic type;
while the leading exponent of Tourville's ideas, as well as historian of
his achievements, was the French priest Paul Hoste,--chaplain to his
fleet, and the father of the systematic treatment of naval evolutions.
But with Tourville's name is associated not only a high level of
professional management, but a caution in professional action not far
removed from timidity, so that an impatient Minister of Marine of his
day and nation styled him "poltroon in head, though not in heart." His
powers were displayed in the preservation and orderly movement of his
fleet; in baffling, by sheer skill, and during long periods, the efforts
of the enemy to bring him to action; in skilful disposition, when he
purposely accepted battle under disadvantage; but under most favorable
opportunities he failed in measures of energy, and, after achieving
partial success, superfluous care of his own command prevented his blows
from being driven home.
Tourville, though a brilliant seaman, thus not only typified an era of
transition, with which he was contemporary, but foreshadowed the period
of merely formal naval warfare, precise, methodical, and unenterprising,
emasculated of military virility, although not of mere animal courage.
He left to his successors the legacy of a great name, but also
unfortunately that of a defective professional tradition. The splendid
days of the French Navy under Louis XIV. passed away with him,--he died
in 1701; but during the long period of naval lethargy on the part of the
state, which followed, the French naval officers, as a class, never
wholly lost sight of professional ideals. They proved themselves, on the
rare occasions that offered, before 1715 and during the wars of Hawke
and Rodney, not only gallant seamen after the pattern of Tourville, but
also exceedingly capable tacticians, upon a system good as far as it
went, but defective on Tourville's express lines, in aiming rather at
exact dispositions and defensive security than at the thorough-going
initiative and persistence which confounds and destroys the enemy.
"War," to use Napoleon's phrase, "was to be waged without running
risks." The sword was drawn, but the scabbard was kept ever open for its
retreat.
The English, in the period of reaction which succeeded the Dutch wars,
produced their own caricature of systematized tactics. Even under its
influence, up to 1715, it is only just to say they did not construe
naval skill to mean anxious care to keep one's own ships intact. Rooke,
off Malaga, in 1704, illustrated professional fearlessness of
consequences as conspicuously as he had shown personal daring in the
boat attack at La Hougue; but his plans of battle exemplified the
particularly British form of inefficient naval action. There was no
great difference in aggregate force between the French fleet and that of
the combined Anglo-Dutch under his orders. The former, drawing up in the
accustomed line of battle, ship following ship in a single column,
awaited attack. Rooke, having the advantage of the wind, and therefore
the power of engaging at will, formed his command in a similar and
parallel line a few miles off, and thus all stood down together, the
ships maintaining their line parallel to that of the enemy, and coming
into action at practically the same moment, van to van, centre to
centre, rear to rear. This ignored wholly the essential maxim of all
intelligent warfare, which is so to engage as markedly to outnumber the
enemy at a point of main collision. If he be broken there, before the
remainder of his force come up, the chances all are that a decisive
superiority will be established by this alone, not to mention the moral
effect of partial defeat and disorder. Instead of this, the impact at
Malaga was so distributed as to produce a substantial equality from one
end to the other of the opposing fronts. The French, indeed, by
strengthening their centre relatively to the van and rear, to some
extent modified this condition in the particular instance; but the fact
does not seem to have induced any alteration in Rooke's dispositions.
Barring mere accident, nothing conclusive can issue from such
arrangements. The result accordingly was a drawn battle, although Rooke
says that the fight, which was maintained on both sides "with great fury
for three hours, ... was the sharpest day's service that I ever saw;" and
he had seen much,--Beachy Head, La Hougue, Vigo Bay, not to mention his
own great achievement in the capture of Gibraltar.
This method of attack remained the ideal--if such a word is not a
misnomer in such a case--of the British Navy, not merely as a matter of
irreflective professional acceptance, but laid down in the official
"Fighting Instructions." It cannot be said that these err on the side of
lucidity; but their meaning to contemporaries in this particular
respect is ascertained, not only by fair inference from their contents,
but by the practical commentary of numerous actions under commonplace
commanders-in-chief. It further received authoritative formulation in
the specific finding of the Court-Martial upon Admiral Byng, which was
signed by thirteen experienced officers. "Admiral Byng should have
caused his ships to tack together, and should immediately have borne
down upon the enemy; his van steering for the enemy's van, his rear for
its rear, each ship making for the one opposite to her in the enemy's
line, under such sail as would have enabled the worst sailer to preserve
her station in the line of battle." Each phrase of this opinion is a
reflection of an article in the Instructions. The line of battle was the
naval fetich of the day; and, be it remarked, it was the more dangerous
because in itself an admirable and necessary instrument, constructed on
principles essentially accurate. A standard wholly false may have its
error demonstrated with comparative ease; but no servitude is more
hopeless than that of unintelligent submission to an idea formally
correct, yet incomplete. It has all the vicious misleading of a
half-truth unqualified by appreciation of modifying conditions; and so
seamen who disdained theories, and hugged the belief in themselves as
"practical," became _doctrinaires_ in the worst sense.
It would seem, however, that a necessary antecedent to deliverance from
a false conception,--as from any injurious condition,--is a practical
illustration of its fallacy. Working consequences must receive
demonstration, concrete in some striking disastrous event, before
improvement is undertaken. Such experience is painful to undergo; but
with most men, even in their private capacity, and in nearly all
governmental action where mere public interests are at stake, remedy is
rarely sought until suffering is not only felt, but signalized in a
conspicuous incident. It is needless to say that the military
professions in peace times are peculiarly liable to this apathy; like
some sleepers, they can be awakened only by shaking. For them, war alone
can subject accepted ideas to the extreme test of practice. It is
doubtless perfectly true that acquaintance with military and naval
history, mastery of their teachings, will go far to anticipate the
penalty attaching to truth's last argument--chastisement; but
imagination is fondly impatient of warning by the past, and easily
avails itself of fancied or superficial differences in contemporary
conditions, to justify measures which ignore, or even directly
contravene, ascertained and fundamental principles of universal
application.
Even immediate practical experience is misinterpreted when incidents are
thus viewed through the medium of a precedent bias. The Transvaal War,
for instance, has afforded some striking lessons of needed
modifications, consequent upon particular local factors, or upon
developments in the material of war; but does any thoughtful military
man doubt that imagination has been actively at work, exaggerating or
distorting, hastily waiving aside permanent truth in favor of temporary
prepossessions or accidental circumstance? It is at least equally likely
that the naval world at the present time is hugging some fond delusions
in the excessive size and speed to which battle-ships are tending, and
in the disproportionate weight assigned to the defensive as compared to
the offensive factors in a given aggregate tonnage. Imagination, theory,
_a priori_ reasoning, is here at variance with rational historical
precedent, which has established the necessity of numbers as well as of
individual power in battle-ships, and demonstrated the superiority of
offensive over defensive strength in military systems. These--and
other--counterbalancing considerations have in past wars enforced the
adoption of a medium homogeneous type, as conducive both to adequate
numbers,--which permit the division of the fleet when required for
strategic or tactical purposes,--and also directly to offensive fleet
strength by the greater facility of manoeuvring possessed by such
vessels; for the strength of a fleet lies not chiefly in the single
units, but in their mutual support in elastic and rapid movement. Well
tested precedent--experience--has here gone to the wall in favor of an
untried forecast of supposed fundamental change in conditions. But
experience is uncommonly disagreeable when she revenges herself after
her own fashion.
The British Navy of the eighteenth century in this way received an
unpleasant proof of the faultiness of its then accepted conclusions, in
the miscarriages of Mathews off Toulon, in 1744, and of Byng off
Minorca, in 1756. So fixed were men's habits of thought that the lessons
were not at once understood. As evidenced by the distribution of
censure, the results were attributed by contemporary judges to
particular incidents of each battle, not to the erroneous underlying
general plans, contravening all sound military precedent, which from the
first made success improbable, indeed impossible, except by an
inefficiency of the enemy which was not to be presumed. These battles
therefore are important, militarily, in a sense not at all dependent
upon their consequences, which were ephemeral. They are significant as
extreme illustrations of incompetent action, deriving from faulty
traditions; and they have the further value of showing the starting
point, the zero of the scale, from which the progress of the century is
to be measured. In describing them, therefore, attention will be given
chiefly to those circumstances which exhibit the shackles under which
fleet movements then labored, not only from the difficulties inherent to
the sea and sailing ships, but from the ideas and methods of the times.
Those incidents also will be selected which show how false standards
affected particular individuals, according to their personal
characteristics.
In Admiral Mathews' action, in February, 1744, an allied fleet composed
of sixteen French ships-of-the-line and twelve Spanish lay in Toulon,
waiting to sail for a Spanish port. The British, in force numerically
equal, were at anchor under the Hyères Islands, a few miles to the
eastward. They got underway when the allied movement began on February
20th; but anchored again for the night, because the enemy that day came
no farther than the outer road of Toulon. The next morning the French
and Spaniards put to sea with a wind at first westerly, and stretched to
the southward in long, single column, the sixteen French leading. At 10
A.M. the British followed, Vice-Admiral Lestock's division taking the
van; but the wind, shifting to east, threw the fleet on the port tack,
on which the rear under Rear-Admiral Rowley had to lead. It became
necessary, therefore, for this division and the centre to pass Lestock,
which took some time with the light airs prevailing. Two or three
manoeuvres succeeded, with the object of forming the fighting order, a
column similar and parallel to that of the enemy, and to get closer to
him. When night fell a signal was still flying for the line abreast, by
which, if completed, the ships would be ranged on a line parallel to the
allies, and heading towards them; consequently abreast of each other. It
would then need only a change of course to place them in column, sides
to the enemy; which, as before said, was the fighting order--the "line
of battle."
The line abreast, however, was not fully formed at dark. Therefore the
admiral, in order to hasten its completion, soon afterwards made a night
signal, with lanterns, for the fleet to bring-to,--that is, bring their
sides to the wind, and stop. He intended thereby that the ships already
in station should stand still, while the others were gaining their
places, all which is a case of simple evolution, by land as by sea. It
was contended by the admiral that Vice-Admiral Lestock's division was
then too far to the right and rear, and hence too distant from the
enemy, and that it was his duty first to get into his station and then
to bring-to. To this the vice-admiral on his trial replied, first, that
he was not out of his station; and, second, that if he were, the later
signal, to bring-to, suspended the earlier, to form line abreast, and
that it was therefore his business, without any discretion, to stop
where he was. Concerning the first plea, a number of witnesses, very
respectable in point of rank and opportunity for seeing, testified that
the vice-admiral did bring-to three or four miles to the right and rear
of his place in the line abreast, reckoning his station from the
admiral's ship; yet, as the Court peremptorily rejected their evidence,
it is probably proper to accept the contemporary decision as to this
matter of fact.
But as regards the second plea, being a matter of military correctness,
a difference of opinion is allowable. The Court adopted as its own the
argument of the vice-admiral. Without entering here into a technical
discussion, the Court's ruling, briefly stated, was that the second
signal superseded the first, so that, if the vice-admiral was in the
wrong place, it was not his duty to get into the right before stopping;
and that this was doubly the case because an article of the Night
Signals (7) prescribed that, under the conditions of the alleged
offence, "a fleet sailing before the wind, or nearly so, if the admiral
made the signal for the fleet to bring-to, the windward ships should
bring-to first." Therefore, if Lestock was to windward, as the charge
read, it was his duty to bring-to first and at once. It is evident,
however, that even the Sailing Instructions, cast-iron as they were,
contemplated a fleet in order, not one in process of forming order; and
that to bring-to helter-skelter, regardless of order, was to obey the
letter rather than the spirit. Muddle-headed as Mathews seems to have
been, what he was trying to do was clear enough; and the duty of a
subordinate was to carry out his evident aim. An order does not
necessarily supersede its predecessor, unless the two are incompatible.
The whole incident, from Lestock's act to the Court's finding, is
instructive as showing the slavish submission to the letter of the
Instructions; a submission traceable not to the law merely, but to the
added tradition that had then fast hold of men's minds. It is most
interesting to note that the unfortunate Byng was one of the signers of
this opinion, as he was also one of the judges that sentenced Mathews to
be dismissed from the navy, as responsible for the general failure.
During the night of the 21st the allies, who had stopped after dark,
appear again to have made sail. Consequently, when day broke, the
British found themselves some distance astern and to windward--
northeast; the wind continuing easterly. Their line, indifferently
well formed in van and centre, stretched over a length of nine
miles through the straggling of the rear. Lestock's ship was six
miles from that of Mathews, whereas it should not have been more than
two and a half, at most, in ordinary sailing; for battle, the
Instructions allowed little over a half-mile. Accepting the Court's
finding that he was in position at dark, this distance can only be
attributed, as Lestock argued and the Court admitted, to a current--that
most convenient of scape-goats in navigation. The allies, too, had a
lagging rear body, five Spanish ships being quite a distance astern; but
from van to rear they extended but six miles, against the British nine.
It was the distance of the British rear, not straggling in van or
centre, that constituted this disadvantage.
Mathews wished to wait till Lestock reached his place, but the allies
were receding all the time; and, though their pace was slackened to
enable the five sternmost Spaniards to come up, the space between the
fleets was increasing. It was the duty of the British admiral to force
an action, on general principles; but in addition he believed that the
French intended to push for Gibraltar, enter the Atlantic, and join
their Brest fleet, in order to cover an invasion of England by an army
reported to be assembling at Dunkirk. Clearly, therefore, something must
be done; yet to enter into a general engagement with near a third of his
command out of immediate supporting distance was contrary to the
accepted principles of the day. The fleet was not extended with that of
the enemy, by which is meant that the respective vans, centres, and
rears were not opposed; the British van being only abreast of the allied
centre, their centre of the allied rear, Lestock tailing away astern and
to windward, while the dozen leading French were some distance ahead of
both bodies. Now the Fighting Instructions required that, "If the
admiral and his fleet have the wind of the enemy, and they have
stretched themselves in a line of battle, the van of the admiral's fleet
is to steer with the van of the enemies, and _there_ to engage them."
There was no alternative course laid down; just as there was no
punishment alternative to death in the Article of War under which Byng
was shot.
Yet the indications all were that to wait for this most formal and
pedantic disposition, which ignored every principle of warfare, would
be to throw away the chance of battle. The French, fresh from port and
clean-bottomed, out-sailed the bulk of the British, as did the
Spaniards, though to a less degree; and it was part of Lestock's
defence, admitted by the Court, that, doing his utmost, his division, as
a whole, certainly could not get abreast the allied rear. Lestock,
indeed, directly submitted to the Court that the commander-in-chief was
at fault in not waiting till his line was thus extended and formed, and
then all bearing down together, in line abreast; although by his own
contention no such issue could have been reached that day, unless the
allies were obliging enough to wait. "I aver, and I shall die in this
opinion, that no man that is an officer, who knows his duty, will make
the signal for line abreast to steer down upon an enemy, until the fleet
has been stretched and extended in a line of battle, according to the
19th Article of the Fighting Instructions. Can it be service," he adds,
"to bear down so much unformed and in confusion, that the van cannot
possibly join battle with, or engage the van of the enemy, the centre
with the centre, and the rear with the rear?"
Mathews not being then on trial, the Court in its finding did not reply
directly to this question; but indirectly it left no doubt as to its
opinion. "The Admiral, by bearing down as he did upon the rear division
of the combined fleet, excluded the Vice-Admiral from any part of the
engagement, if he could have come up; for if both lines had been closed,
when the Admiral engaged the _Real_, there would have been no more than
one ship of the enemy's fleet for the Vice-Admiral and his whole
division to have engaged." Again, "It does not appear that the
Vice-Admiral was in any part the cause of the miscarriage of his
Majesty's fleet in the Mediterranean; the _bringing on of the general
engagement according to the 19th Article_ of the Fighting
Instructions ... not depending upon him." Sixteen officers of the rank of
captain and above signed these opinions, and there is no denying the
words of the 19th Article; yet one wonders to see no recognition of the
necessity of using your opportunity as you find it, of the moral effect
of an approaching reserve, which Lestock's division would have
constituted, of the part it may take in improving or repairing the
results of an action--taking the place of injured friends, preventing
injured foes escaping, turning doubtful battle into victory. But no;
these commonplaces of to-day and of all time were swamped by the
Fighting Instructions. It will be seen in the sequel what a disastrous
moral influence Lestock's aloofness exercised upon a few timid captains,
and not improbably upon the entire subsequent course and worst errors of
his unfortunate superior.
One of the witnesses in the ensuing Courts-Martial testified that the
commander-in-chief, under these perplexing circumstances, went into the
stern gallery of the flag-ship _Namur_, and called to Captain Cornwall
of the _Marlborough_, next astern, asking what he thought. Cornwall
replied he "believed they would lose the glory of the day, if they did
not attack the Spaniards,"--_i.e._, the allied rear-centre and
rear,--"the Vice-Admiral--Lestock--being so far astern." To which the
admiral said, "If you'll bear down and attack the _Real_,"--the _Real
Felipe_, Spanish flag-ship,--"I'll be your second." This was about one
o'clock, and the signal to engage had been made two hours earlier,
probably with the double object of indicating the ultimate intention of
the movements in hand, and the immediate urgency of forming the line.
The admiral's words betray the indecision of an irresolute nature and of
professional rustiness, but not of timidity, and Cornwall's words turned
the scale. The course of the flag-ship _Namur_ had hitherto been but a
little off the wind, "lasking" down, to use the contemporary but long
obsolete expression, in such manner as to show the admiral's desire to
engage himself with the enemy's centre, according to the Fighting
Instructions; but now, in hopelessness of that result, she kept broad
off, directly for the nearest enemy, accompanied closely by the
_Norfolk_, her next ahead, and by the _Marlborough_. Rear-Admiral
Rowley, commanding the van, imitated the admiral's example, bringing the
French ship abreast him to close action. He also was thoroughly
supported by the two captains next astern of him, the second of whom was
Edward Hawke,--afterwards the brilliant admiral,--in the _Berwick_. Two
British groups, each of three ships, were thus hotly engaged; but with
an interval between them of over half a mile, corresponding to the
places open for six or seven other vessels. The conduct of the ships
named, under the immediate influence of the example set by the two
admirals, suggests how much the average man is sustained by professional
tone; for a visible good example is simply a good standard, a high
ideal, realized in action.
Unfortunately, however, just as Hawke's later doings showed the man able
to rise above the level of prescribed routine duty, there was found in
the second astern of the _Namur_ a captain capable of exceptional
backwardness, of reasoning himself into dereliction of clear duty, and
thus effecting a demonstration that the example of timidity is full as
contagious and more masterful than that of audacity. The flag-ships and
their supporters ranged themselves along the hostile line to windward,
within point-blank range; according to the 20th Article of the Fighting
Instructions, which read, "Every Commander is to take care that his guns
are not fired till he is sure he can reach the enemy upon a point-blank;
and by no means to suffer his guns to be fired over any of our own
ships." The point-blank is the range of a cannon laid level, and the
requirement was necessary to efficient action in those days of crude
devices for pointing, with ordnance material of inferior power. Even
sixty years later Nelson expressed his indifference to improvements in
pointing, on the ground that the true way of fighting was to get so
close that you could not miss your aim. Thus Mathews' captain placed the
_Namur_, of ninety guns, within four hundred yards--less than quarter of
a mile--of the Spanish flag-ship, the _Real Felipe_, of one hundred and
ten guns; and Cornwall brought the _Marlborough_ immediately in the wake
of the _Namur_, engaging the Spanish _Hercules_. But the _Dorsetshire_,
which should have followed the _Marlborough_, was stopped by her
commander, Captain George Burrish, at a distance which was estimated by
several witnesses to be from half a mile to nearly a mile from the
enemy, or, to use a very expressive phrase then current, "at random
shot." The Court-Martial, however, in pronouncing upon this point,
decided that inasmuch as a bar-shot came on board the _Dorsetshire_ in
this early part of the engagement, she must be construed to have brought
to within extreme point-blank. In view of the mass of testimony to the
greater distance, this seems to have been simply giving the benefit of a
doubt.
Thus situated, the action between the _Namur_ and _Marlborough_ on the
one side, and the _Real Felipe_ and _Hercules_ on the other, was for
some time very hot; but the _Marlborough_, moving faster than the
_Namur_, closed upon her, so that she had to get out of the way, which
she did by moving ahead and at the same time hauling to windward, till
she reached as far from the Spanish line as the _Dorsetshire_ had
remained. The Court in this matter decided that, after the admiral had
thus hauled off, the _Dorsetshire_ was in a line, or as far to
leeward--towards the enemy--as the admiral. The _Marlborough_ was thus
left alone, exposed to the fire of a ship heavier than herself, and also
to that of the _Hercules_, which was able to train upon her a
considerable part of her battery. Under these circumstances, it was the
duty of the _Dorsetshire_, as it was the opportunity of her commander,
by attacking the _Hercules_, to second, and support, the engaged ship;
but she continued aloof. After two hours--by 3 P.M.--the main and mizzen
masts were cut out of the _Marlborough_, and she lost her captain with
forty-two men killed, and one hundred and twenty wounded, out of a crew
of seven hundred and fifty. Thus disabled, the sails on the foremast
turned her head towards the enemy, and she lay moving sluggishly,
between the fleets, but not under control. The admiral now sent an
officer to Burrish--the second that morning--to order him into his
station and to support the _Marlborough_; while to the latter, in
response to an urgent representation by boat of her condition, and that
she was threatened by the approach of the hitherto separated ships of
the Spanish rear, he replied that the _Namur_ was wearing and would come
to her assistance.
When Burrish received his message, he sent for his lieutenants on the
quarter-deck, and spoke to them words which doubtless reflect the
reasoning upon which he was justifying to himself his most culpable
inaction. "Gentlemen, I sent for you to show you the position of our
ships to windward," (_i.e._ the ships of the centre division behind him,
and Lestock's division), "likewise those five sail [Spanish] of the
enemy that are astern of us. I have my orders to engage the _Real_, and
you see I am bearing down for that purpose." The lieutenants remarked
that he could do so with safety. To this he rejoined, with a curtness
that testifies to the uneasiness of his mind, "I did not send for you to
ask your opinions, but only to observe that not one of our ships is
coming down to my assistance, in order to cut those five sail off, and
in case those five sail should oblige me to haul my wind again, and
leave the _Marlborough_, that you may be able to indemnify my conduct,
if called in question." One witness also testified that he "was angry
that Admiral Lestock's division did not bear down,"--which was just
enough,--and that "he thought it most advisable to keep his station;"
meaning by this, apparently, to remain where he was. His
cross-examination of the evidence was directed to prove the danger to
his ship from these remaining Spaniards. This anxiety was wholly
misplaced, and professionally unworthy. Quite independent of orders by
signal and message, he was bound, in view of the condition of the
_Marlborough_, to go to her relief, and to assume that the three English
ships of the centre division, in his rear, would surely sustain him. To
base contrary action upon a doubt of their faithfulness was to condemn
himself. Four ships to five under such conditions should be rather a
spur than a deterrent to an officer of spirit, who understands the
obligation of his calling.
Till this, the _Dorsetshire_ had been under her three topsails only. She
appears then to have stood down under more sail, but very slowly, and
here occurred another disaster which was largely chargeable to her being
out of her station. Seeing the desperate state of the _Marlborough_,
Mathews, who throughout managed blunderingly, with the single exception
of the original attack, had thought to aid her and divert the fire of
the _Real_ by sending against the latter a fire-ship. It was elementary
that vessels of this class needed energetic support and cover in their
desperate work. Small in size, of no battery-force except against boat
attacks, loaded with combustibles and powder, success in the use of them
under an enemy's guns required not only imperturbable coolness and
nerve, but the utmost attainable immunity from the attention of the
enemy. This could be secured only by a heavy and sustained fire from
their own fleet. With the _Norfolk_, _Namur_, _Marlborough_, and
_Dorsetshire_ in close line, as they should have been, and heavily
engaged, a fire-ship might have passed between them, and, though at
imminent hazard even so, have crossed the four hundred yards of
intervening water to grapple the hostile flag-ship; but with the
_Marlborough_ lying disabled and alone, the admiral himself acting with
indecision, and the _Dorsetshire_ hanging aloof, the attempt was little
short of hopeless. Still it was made, and the _Anne Galley_--such was
her odd name--bore down, passing close by the _Dorsetshire_.
It became doubly the duty of Burrish to act, to push home whatever
demonstration was in his power to make; the fire-ship, however, went by
him and was permitted to pursue her desperate mission without his
support. The _Real_, seeing the _Anne_ approach, bore up out of her
line, and at the same time sent a strongly-manned launch to grapple and
tow her out of the way. This was precisely one of the measures that it
was the business of supporting ships to repel. The captain of the
fire-ship, thrown upon his own resources, opened fire, a most hazardous
measure, as much of his priming was with loose powder; but the launch
readily avoided injury by taking position directly ahead, where the guns
would not bear. The crew of the _Anne_ were now ordered into the boat,
except the captain and five others, who were to remain to the last
moment, and light the train; but from some cause not certainly
demonstrated she exploded prematurely, being then within a hundred yards
of the _Real_. It is necessary to say that the Court-Martial acquitted
Burrish of blame, because he "had no orders to cover the fire-ship,
either by signal or otherwise." Technically, the effect of this finding
was to shift an obvious and gross blunder from the captain to some one
else; but it is evident that if the _Dorsetshire_ had occupied her
station astern of the _Marlborough_, the fire-ship's attempt would have
been much facilitated.
The Court decided unanimously that Burrish "ought to have borne down as
far to leeward as where the admiral first began to engage,
notwithstanding that the admiral might be hauled off before the
_Dorsetshire_ got so far to leeward." The point upon which the line
should have been formed was thus established by the Court's finding. The
subsequent proceedings of this ship need not be related. She now came
slowly into close action, but that part of the enemy's order was already
broken, and their rear vessels, the fear of which had controlled her
captain, passed by as they came up without serious action.
How far Burrish's example influenced the captains immediately behind him
cannot certainly be affirmed. Such shyness as he displayed is not only
infectious, but saps that indispensable basis upon which military
effectiveness reposes, namely, the certainty of co-operation and
support, derived from mutual confidence, inspired by military
discipline, obedience, and honor. It is well to note here that the
remoteness of Lestock's division thus affected Burrish, who evidently
could not understand either its distance or its failure to approach, and
who, being what he was, saw himself threatened with want of that backing
which he himself was refusing to the _Marlborough_. While he was blaming
Lestock, hard things were being said about him in Lestock's division;
but the lesson of Lestock's influence upon Burrish is not less
noteworthy because the latter forfeited both duty and honor by his
hesitation. It is to be feared that the captain of the _Essex_,
following the _Dorsetshire_, was a coward; even so Burrish, an old
captain, certainly did not cheer his heart by good example, but rather
gave him the pretext for keeping still farther off. The rearmost two
ships of the division but confirm the evidences of demoralization, and
the more so that their captains seem from the evidence to have been
well-disposed average men; but the five Spanish vessels approaching,
with the _Dorsetshire_ and the _Essex_ holding aloof, was too much for
their resolution--and not unnaturally. The broad result, however, was
lamentable; for four British ships feared to come to the aid of an
heroic and desperately injured consort, in deadly peril, because five
enemies were drawing nigh.
Upon these four therefore fell, and not unjustly, the weight of national
anger. Burrish was cashiered, and declared forever incapable of being an
officer in the Navy. Norris, of the _Essex_, absconded to avoid trial.
The two others were pronounced unfit to command, but, although never
again employed, mitigating circumstances in their behavior caused them
to be retained on the lists of the Navy. It is not too much to say that
they were men just of the stamp to have escaped this shame and ruin of
reputation, under more favorable conditions of professional tone.
Concerning the vice-admiral's action at this time, which had its share
in the ruin of these captains, another curious instance of men's bondage
to the order of battle transpires. The three rear ships of his squadron
were clean, that is, relatively fast; and they were rearmost for this
very reason of speed, because, when the division led on the other tack,
they, as headmost ships of the fleet, would be ready to chase.
Nevertheless, when the admiral sent to Lestock in the forenoon to hurry
him into line, no order was given to these ships to press ahead. Why?
Lestock answers that to send those ships ahead, out of the place in the
line prescribed to them by the commander-in-chief, was breaking the
line, which should expose him to condign punishment; and this opinion
the Court also adopts: "The [only] messages sent to the Vice-Admiral by
the Admiral's two lieutenants were to make what sail he possibly could,
and to close the line with his division; no signal was made for him to
chase with his division, or send ships of his division to chase; without
which, _while the signal for the line of battle was flying_, and more
especially after the messages brought him, he could not, _without breach
of duty_, either have chased or sent ships to chase out of the line." It
is to be noted that the word "chase" is here used in the strictest
technical sense, not merely to exclude Lestock from diverting a ship to
some other purpose than that of the engagement, but even from shifting
her place in the general order in the view of furthering the engagement;
for the Court says again: "The Vice-Admiral could not send any ships of
his division to the relief of the _Namur_ and _Marlborough without
breaking the order of battle_, there being four ships of the Admiral's
division" (to wit, the _Dorsetshire_ and that crowd) "stationed between
the Vice-Admiral's division and the _Marlborough_, which four ships
might have gone to the assistance of the _Marlborough_."
The second in command thus had no liberty to repair either the
oversights of his superior, or the results of obvious bad conduct in
juniors; for Burrish's backwardness was observed throughout the rear.
There was a long road yet to travel to Nelson's personal action at St.
Vincent and Copenhagen, or to his judicious order at Trafalgar, "The
Second in command will, after my intentions are made known to him, have
the entire direction of his line." Even that great officer Hood, off the
Chesapeake in 1781, felt himself tied hand and foot by the union flag at
the mizzen peak,--the signal for the line. Only the commander-in-chief
could loose the bonds; either by his personal initiative alone, and
vigilant supervision, as did Hawke and Rodney, or by adding to this the
broad view of discretion in subordinates which Nelson took. Before
leaving this subject, note may be taken of a pettifogging argument
advanced by Lestock and adopted by the Court, that orders to these three
ships to press ahead would have resulted in nothing, because of the
lightness of the wind then and afterwards. True, doubtless, and known
after the fact; but who before the event could predict the uncertain
Mediterranean breeze, or how much each foot gained might contribute to
the five minutes which measure the interval between victory and defeat.
It is not by such lagging hesitations that battles are won.
It is a trivial coincidence, though it may be noted in passing, that as
it was the second astern of the commander-in-chief on whom fell the
weight of the disgrace, so it was the second astern of the commander of
the van who alone scored a distinct success, and achieved substantial
gain of professional reputation. Hawke, at first bearing down, had come
to close action with the Spanish _Neptuno_, a vessel nominally of less
force than his own ship, the _Berwick_. The _Neptuno_ was at length
driven out of her line, with a loss of some two hundred killed and
wounded. Thus left without an immediate antagonist, Hawke's attention
was attracted by another Spanish vessel, the _Poder_, of the same
nominal force as the _Neptuno_, and following her in the order; with
which four or five of the seven British ships, that should have closed
the interval between Mathews and Rowley, were carrying on a distant and
circumspect engagement, resembling in caution that of the _Dorsetshire_
and her followers. He carried the _Berwick_ close alongside the new
enemy, dismasted her, and after two hours compelled her to strike her
flag; the only vessel in either fleet that day to surrender, and then
only after a resistance as honorable to Spain as that of the
_Marlborough_ had been to Great Britain. Her commander refused to yield
his sword to any but Hawke, who also took possession of the prize with a
party from his own ship; thus establishing beyond dispute, by all
customary formalities, his claim to the one trophy of the day. The
occurrences through which she was afterwards lost to the British, so
that only the honor of the capture remained, and that to Hawke alone,
must be briefly told; for they, too, are a part of the mismanagement
that has given to this battle its particular significance in naval
history.
As the unlucky fire-ship bore down, Mathews began wearing the
_Namur_,--turning her round, that is, from the wind, and therefore
towards the _Marlborough_ and her opponents. In this he seems to have
had first in view supporting the fire-ship and covering the
_Marlborough_. Boats were ahead of the latter towing her from the enemy.
As she was thus being dragged off, but after the fire-ship blew up, the
_Namur_ passed between her and the hostile line; then, hauling to the
wind on the starboard tack, she stood north towards Lestock's division.
This movement to the rear was imitated by the British ships of the
centre,--the _Dorsetshire_ and others,--and, beyond a brush with the
rear five Spanish vessels as they came up, the action in the centre here
ceased.
This retrograde movement of Mathews and his division drew the centre
away from the van. At about the same time the allied van, composed
wholly of French ships, seeing the straits of the _Poder_ and the
_Real_, tacked--turned round--to come down to their assistance. This
imposed a like movement upon the British van, lest it should be engaged
apart from the rest of the fleet, and perhaps doubled on, by a number of
perfectly fresh ships. The _Poder_, having lost her chief spars, could
not be carried off, nor was Hawke able even to remove the men he had
thrown on board. She was therefore retaken by the French. Lieutenant
Lloyd, the officer in charge, escaped with a part of the prize crew,
taking with him also a number of Spanish prisoners; but a junior
lieutenant and some seamen were left behind and captured. The _Berwick_
being compelled to follow her division, Lloyd could not rejoin her till
the following day, and sought refuge for that night on board another
ship.
The next day, February 23d, Mathews had another chance. As he did not
pursue during the night, while the allies continued to retire, he was a
long way off at daylight; but his fleet was now united, and the enemy
retreating. He need therefore have no anxiety about the crippled
_Marlborough_, but could follow freely; whereas, the enemy being
pursued, their injured ships both retarded the movement and were
endangered. In the course of the day, the _Poder_ had lagged so far
behind that Admiral Rowley, who had recognized Hawke's enterprise the
day before, directed him to move down upon her. As he approached, the
French ship in company abandoned her, but in taking possession Hawke was
anticipated by the _Essex_, which Mathews himself had ordered to do so.
The captain of the _Essex_ got hold of the Spanish flag, with some other
small trophies, which he afterwards refused to give up unless compelled;
and, as Mathews would not give an order, Hawke never got them. Thus
curiously it came to pass that the one man who above several
misdemeanants distinguished himself by bad conduct, amounting to
cowardice, and who ran away to escape trial, kept the tokens of the
single achievement of the day from him whose valor had won them. The
_Poder_ herself was set on fire, and destroyed.
The British fleet continued to follow during the 23d, and at nightfall
was within three or four miles of the enemy, when Mathews again stopped.
The allies, continuing to withdraw, were next morning nearly out of
sight, and further pursuit was abandoned.
Thus ended this almost forgotten affair, which in its day occasioned to
an unusual degree the popular excitement and discussion which always
follow marked disaster, and but rarely attend success. Besides the
particular missteps of Lestock and the individual captains, which have
been mentioned, Mathews's conduct was marked by serious failures in
professional competency. The charge preferred against him which seems
most to have attracted attention, and to have been considered most
damaging, was taking his fleet into action in a confused and disorderly
manner. It is significant of professional standards that this should
have assumed such prominence; for, however faulty may have been his
previous management, the most creditable part of his conduct was the
manner of his attack. He did not wait for a pedantically accurate line,
but by a straightforward onslaught, at a favorable moment, upon a part
of the enemy,--and that the rear,--set an example which, had it been
followed by all who could do so, would probably have resulted in a
distinct and brilliant success. He was justified--if he reasoned at
all--in expecting that Lestock could get into action as soon as the
French van; or, at the least, before it could reverse the conditions
which would have ensued from a vigorous encounter upon the lines of
Mathews's attack. It is most doubtful, indeed, whether the French van
would have ventured to engage, in the case supposed; for the French
admiral, writing to the French ambassador in Spain, used these words:
"It is clear, in the situation I was in, it could not be expected that a
French admiral should go to the assistance of the Spaniards; neither
could the vanguard of the fleet do it without running the hazard of
being surrounded by the vanguard of the English, which had the wind of
them; but _as soon as the English left me_ I drew together all the ships
of both squadrons, and sailed immediately to the assistance of the _Real
Felipe_, in doing which I was exposed to the fire of the whole English
line; but happily the English did not punish my _rashness_ as it
deserved." Evidently De Court shared to the full the professional
caution which marked the French naval officers, with all their personal
courage; for if it was rash to pass the hostile line after it wore, it
would be reckless to do so before.
Considered simply as a tactical situation, or problem, quite independent
of any tactical forethought or insight on the part of the
commander-in-chief,--of which there is little indication,--the
conditions resulting from his attack were well summed up in a
contemporary publication, wholly adverse to Mathews in tone, and
saturated with the professional prepossessions embodied in the Fighting
Instructions. This writer, who claims to be a naval officer, says:
"The whole amount of this fight is that the centre, consisting of
eleven ships-of-the-line, together with two of-the-line and two
fifty-gun ships of the Rear-Admiral's division [the van], _were
able to destroy_ the whole Spanish squadron, much more so as three
of those ships went on with the French [the allied van], and four
of the sternmost did not get up with their admiral before it was
darkish, long after the fire-ship's misfortune, so that the whole
afternoon there were only five, out of which the _Constante_ was
beat away in less than an hour; what then fifteen ships could be
doing from half an hour past one till past five, no less than four
hours, and these ships not taken, burnt, and destroyed, is the
question which behooves them to answer."
In brief, then, Mathews's attack was so delivered that the weight of
thirteen of-the-line fell upon five Spanish of the same class, the
discomfiture of which, actually accomplished even under the misbehavior
of several British ships, separated the extreme rear, five other Spanish
vessels, from the rest of the allies. Whatever the personal merit or
lack of merit on the part of the commander-in-chief, such an
opportunity, pushed home by a "band of brothers," would at the least
have wiped out these rear ten ships of the allies; nor could the
remainder in the van have redeemed the situation. As for the method of
attack, it is worthy of note that, although adopted by Mathews
accidentally, it anticipated, not only the best general practice of a
later date, but specifically the purpose of Rodney in the action which
he himself considered the most meritorious of his whole career,--that of
April 17, 1780. The decisive signal given by him on that occasion, as
explained by himself, meant that each ship should steer, not for the
ship corresponding numerically to her in the enemy's order, but for the
one immediately opposite at the time the signal was made. This is what
Mathews and his seconds did, and others should have imitated. Singularly
enough, not only was the opportunity thus created lost, but there is no
trace of its existence, even, being appreciated in such wise as to
affect professional opinion. As far as Mathews himself was concerned,
the accounts show that his conduct, instead of indicating tactical
sagacity, was a mere counsel of desperation.
But after engaging he committed palpable and even discreditable
mistakes. Hauling to windward--away--when the _Marlborough_ forced him
ahead, abandoned that ship to overwhelming numbers, and countenanced the
irresolution of the _Dorsetshire_ and others. Continuing to stand north,
after wearing on the evening of the battle, was virtually a retreat,
unjustified by the conditions; and it would seem that the same false
step gravely imperilled the _Berwick_, Hawke holding on, most properly,
to the very last moment of safety, in order to get back his prize-crew.
Bringing-to on the night of the 23d was an error of the same character
as standing north during that of the 22d. It was the act of a doubtful,
irresolute man,--irresolute, not because a coward, but because wanting
in the self-confidence that springs from conscious professional
competency. In short, the commander-in-chief's unfitness was graphically
portrayed in the conversation with Cornwall from the quarter gallery of
the flag-ship. "If you approve and will go down with me, I will go
down." Like so many men, he needed a backer, to settle his doubts and to
stiffen his backbone. The instance is far from unique.
In the case of Byng, as of Mathews, we are not concerned with the
general considerations of the campaign to which the battle was
incidental. It is sufficient to note that in Minorca, then a British
possession, the French had landed an army of 15,000 men, with siege
artillery sufficient to reduce the principal port and fortress, Port
Mahon; upon which the whole island must fall. Their communications with
France depended upon the French fleet cruising in the neighborhood.
Serious injury inflicted upon it would therefore go far to relieve the
invested garrison.
[Illustration: Plan of Byng's Action off Minorca, May 20, 1756]
[Transcriber's Note: This illustration shows on a map the positions of
the fleets and their ships at various times in the action. Critical
positions on the map are marked with codes such as "B1" and "F2",
which will be referred to below in the text. This illustration is
available in the HTML version of the e-book.]
Under these circumstances the British fleet sighted Minorca on the 19th
of May, 1756, and was attempting to exchange information with the
besieged, when the French fleet was seen in the southeast. Byng stood
towards it, abandoning for the time the effort to communicate. That
night both fleets manoeuvred for advantage of position with regard to
the wind. The next day, between 9 and 10 A.M., they came again in view
of each other, and at 11 were about six miles apart, the French still to
the southeast, with a breeze at south-southwest to southwest. The
British once more advanced towards them, close hauled on the starboard
tack, heading southeasterly, the enemy standing on the opposite tack,
heading westerly, both carrying sail to secure the weather gage (B1,
F1). It appeared at first that the French would pass ahead of the
British, retaining the windward position; but towards noon the wind
changed, enabling the latter to lie up a point or two higher (B2). This
also forced the bows of the several French vessels off their course, and
put them out of a regular line of battle; that is, they could no longer
sail in each other's wake (F2). Being thus disordered, they reformed on
the same tack, heading northwest, with the wind very little forward of
the beam. This not only took time, but lost ground to leeward, because
the quickest way to re-establish the order was for the mass of the fleet
to take their new positions from the leewardmost vessel. When formed
(F3), as they could not now prevent the British line from passing
ahead, they hove-to with their main-topsails aback,--stopped,--awaiting
the attack, which was thenceforth inevitable and close at hand.
In consequence of what has been stated, the British line (B2-B3)--more
properly, column--was passing ahead of the French (F2-F3), steering
towards their rear, in a direction in a general sense opposite to
theirs, but not parallel; that is, the British course made an angle, of
between thirty and forty-five degrees, with the line on which their
enemy was ranged. Hence, barring orders to the contrary,--which were not
given,--each British ship was at its nearest to the enemy as she passed
their van, and became more and more distant as she drew to the rear. It
would have been impossible to realize more exactly the postulate of the
17th Article of the Fighting Instructions, which in itself voiced the
ideal conditions of an advantageous naval position for attack, as
conceived by the average officer of the day; and, as though most
effectually to demonstrate once for all how that sort of thing would
work, the adjunct circumstances approached perfection. The admiral was
thoroughly wedded to the old system, without an idea of departing from
it, and there was a fair working breeze with which to give it effect,
for the ships under topsails and foresail would go about three knots;
with top-gallant sails, perhaps over four. A fifty-gun ship, about the
middle of the engagement, had to close her lower deck ports when she set
her top-gallant sails on the wind, which had then freshened a little.
The 17th Article read thus: "If the admiral see the enemy standing
towards him, and he has the wind of them, the van of the fleet is to
make sail till they come the length of the enemy's rear, and our rear
abreast of the enemy's van; then he that is in the rear of our fleet is
to tack first, and every ship one after another as fast as they can
throughout the whole line; and if the admiral will have the whole fleet
to tack together, the sooner to put them in a posture of engaging the
enemy, he will hoist" a prescribed signal, "and fire a gun; and whilst
they are in fight with the enemy the ships will keep at half a cable's
length--one hundred yards--one of the other." All this Byng aimed to do.
The conditions exactly fitted, and he exactly followed the rules, with
one or two slight exceptions, which will appear, and for which the Court
duly censured him.
When thus much had been done, the 19th Article in turn found its
postulate realized, and laid down its corresponding instruction: "If the
admiral and his fleet have the wind of the enemy, and they have
stretched themselves in a line of battle, the van of the admiral's fleet
is to _steer with_ the van of the enemy's, and there to engage with
them." The precise force of "steer with" is not immediately apparent to
us to-day, nor does it seem to have been perfectly clear then; for the
question was put to the captain of the flag-ship,--the heroic Gardiner,
--"You have been asked if the admiral did not express some uneasiness at
Captain Andrews"--of the van ship in the action--"not seeming to
understand the 19th Article of the Fighting Instructions; Do not you
understand that article to relate to our van particularly when the two
fleets are [already] in a parallel line of battle to each other?" (As
TT, F3). _Answer_: "I apprehended it in the situation" [not parallel]
"we were in[1] if the word _For_ were instead of the word _With_, he
would, I apprehend, have steered directly _for_ the van ship of the
Enemy." _Question_. "As the 19th Article expresses to steer with the van
of the enemy, if the leading ship had done so, in the oblique line we
were in with the enemy, and every ship had observed it the same, would
it not have prevented our rear coming to action at all, at least within
a proper distance?" _Answer_: "Rear, and van too." "Steer with"
therefore meant, to the Court and to Gardiner, to steer parallel to the
enemy,--possibly likewise abreast,--and if the fleets were already
parallel the instruction would work; but neither the articles
themselves, nor Byng by his signals, did anything to effect parallelism
before making the signal to engage.
The captain of the ship sternmost in passing, which became the van when
the fleet tacked together according to the Instructions and signals,
evidently shared Gardiner's impression; when about, he steered parallel
to--"with"--the French, who had the wind nearly abeam. The mischief was
that the ships ahead of him in passing were successively more and more
distant from the enemy, and if they too, after tacking, steered with the
latter, they would never get any nearer. The _impasse_ is clear. Other
measures doubtless would enable an admiral to range his fleet parallel
to the enemy at any chosen distance, by taking a position himself and
forming the fleet on his ship; or, in this particular instance, Byng
being with the van as it, on the starboard tack, was passing the enemy
(B3 B3), could at any moment have brought his fleet parallel to the
French by signalling the then van ship to keep away a certain amount,
the rest following in her wake. Nothing to that effect being in the
Instructions, it seems not to have occurred to him. His one idea was to
conform to them, and he apprehended that after tacking, as they
prescribed, the new van ship would bear down and engage without further
orders, keeping parallel to the French when within point-blank, the
others following her as they could; a process which, from the varying
distances, would expose each to a concentrated fire as they successively
approached. Byng's action is only explicable to the writer by supposing
that he thus by "steer with" understood "steer for;" for when, after the
fleet tacked together, the new van ship (formerly the rear) did not of
her own motion head for the leading enemy, he signalled her to steer one
point, and then two points, in that direction. This, he explained in his
defence, was "to put the leading captain in mind of his Instructions,
who I perceived did not steer away with the enemy's leading ship
agreeable to the 19th Article of the Fighting Instructions." The results
of these orders not answering his expectations, he then made the signal
to engage, as the only remaining way perceptible to him for carrying out
the Instructions.
To summarize the foregoing, up to the moment the signal for battle was
made: While the fleets were striving for the weather gage, the wind had
shifted to the southwest. The French, momentarily disordered by the
change, had formed in line ahead about noon, heading northwest,
westerly, so as just to keep their main topsails aback and the ships
with bare steerage way, but under command (F3). The British standing
south-southeast, by the wind, were passing (B2-B3) across the
head of the enemy's fleet at a distance of from three to two miles--the
latter being the estimate by their ships then in the rear. The French
having twelve vessels in line and the British thirteen, the gradual
progress of the latter should bring their then van "the length of the
enemy's rear," about the time the rear came abreast of his van. When
this happened, the Instructions required that the fleet tack together,
and then stand for the enemy, ship to ship, number one to number one,
and so along the line till the number twelves met[2].
This Byng purposed to do, but, unluckily for himself, ventured on a
refinement. Considering that, if his vessels bore down when abreast
their respective antagonists, they would go bows-on, perpendicularly,
subject to a raking--enfilading--fire, he deferred the signal to tack
till his van had passed some distance beyond the French rear, because
thus they would have to approach in a slanting direction. He left out of
his account here the fact that all long columns tend to straggle in the
rear; hence, although he waited till his three or four leading ships had
passed the enemy before making signal to tack, the rear had got no
farther than abreast the hostile van. Two of the clearest witnesses,
Baird of the _Portland_, next to the then rear ship, and Cornwall of the
_Revenge_, seventh from it, testified that, after tacking together, to
the port tack, when they kept away for the enemy in obedience to the
signal for battle, it was necessary, in order to reach their particular
opponents, to bring the wind not only as far as astern, but on the
starboard quarter, showing that they had been in rear of their station
before tacking, and so too far ahead after it; while Durell of the
_Trident_, ninth from rear and therefore fifth from van, asserted that
at the same moment the British van, which after tacking became the rear,
had overpassed the enemy by five or six ships. This may be an
exaggeration, but that three or four vessels had gone beyond is proved
by evidence from the ships at that end of the line.
The Court therefore distinctly censured the admiral for this novelty:
"Unanimously, the Court are of opinion that when the British fleet on
the starboard tack were stretched abreast, _or about the beam_ of the
enemy's line, the admiral should have tacked the fleet all together, and
immediately have conducted it on a direct course for the enemy, the van
steering for the enemy's van," etc. The instructive point, however, is
not Byng's variation, nor the Court's censure, but the idea, common to
both, that the one and only way to use your dozen ships under the
conditions was to send each against a separate antagonist. The highest
and authoritative conception of a fleet action was thus a dozen naval
duels, occurring simultaneously, under initial conditions unfavorable to
the assailant. It is almost needless to remark that this is as contrary
to universal military teaching as it was to the practice of Rodney,
Howe, Jervis, and Nelson, a generation or two later.
This is, in fact, the chief significance of this action, which ratified
and in a measure closed the effete system to which the middle eighteenth
century had degraded the erroneous, but comparatively hearty, tradition
received by it from the seventeenth. It is true, the same blundering
method was illustrated in the War of 1778. Arbuthnot and Graves,
captains when Byng was tried, followed his plan in 1781, with like
demonstration of practical disaster attending false theory; but, while
the tactical inefficiency was little less, the evidence of faint-hearted
professional incompetency, of utter personal inadequacy, was at least
not so glaring. It is the combination of the two in the person of the
same commander that has given to this action its pitiful pre-eminence in
the naval annals of the century.
It is, therefore, not so much to point out the lesson, as to reinforce
its teaching by the exemplification of the practical results, that there
is advantage in tracing the sequel of events in this battle. The signal
to tack was made when the British van had reached beyond the enemy's
rear, at a very little after 1 P.M. (B3). This reversed the line of
battle, the rear becoming the van, on the port tack. When done, the new
van was about two miles from that of the French (F4); the new rear,
in which Byng was fourth from sternmost, was three and a half or four
from their rear. Between this and 2 P.M. came the signals for the ship
then leading to keep two points, twenty-five degrees, more to starboard,
--towards the enemy; a measure which could only have the bad effect of
increasing the angle which the British line already made with that of
the French, and the consequent inequality of distance to be traversed by
their vessels in reaching their opponents. At 2.20 the signal for battle
was made, and was repeated by the second in command, Rear-Admiral Temple
West, who was in the fourth ship from the van. His division of six bore
up at once and ran straight down before the wind, under topsails only,
for their several antagonists; the sole exception being the van-most
vessel, which took the slanting direction desired by Byng, with the
consequence that she got ahead of her position, had to back and to wear
to regain it, and was worse punished than any of her comrades. The
others engaged in line, within point-blank, the rear-admiral hoisting
the flag for close action (B4). Fifteen minutes later, the sixth ship,
and rearmost of the van, the _Intrepid_, lost her foretopmast, which
crippled her.
The seventh ship, which was the leader of the rear, Byng's own division,
got out of his hands before he could hold her. Her captain, Frederick
Cornwall, was nephew to the gallant fellow who fell backing Mathews so
nobly off Toulon, and had then succeeded to the command of the
_Marlborough_, fighting her till himself disabled. He had to bring the
wind on the starboard quarter of his little sixty-four, in order to
reach the seventh in the enemy's line, which was an eighty-gun ship,
carrying the flag of the French admiral. This post, by professional
etiquette, as by evident military considerations, Byng owed to his own
flag-ship, of equal force.
The rest of the rear division the commander-in-chief attempted to carry
with himself, slanting down; or, as the naval term then had it,
"lasking" towards the enemy. The flag-ship kept away four
points--forty-five degrees; but hardly had she started, under the very
moderate canvas of topsails and foresail, to cover the much greater
distance to be travelled, in order to support the van by engaging the
enemy's rear, when Byng observed that the two ships on his left--towards
the van--were not keeping pace with him. He ordered the main and mizzen
topsails to be backed to wait for them. Gardiner, the captain, "took the
liberty of offering the opinion" that, if sail were increased instead of
reduced, the ships concerned would take the hint, that they would all be
sooner alongside the enemy, and probably receive less damage in going
down. It was a question of example. The admiral replied, "You see that
the signal for the line is out, and I am ahead of those two ships; and
you would not have me, as admiral of the fleet, run down as if I was
going to engage a single ship. It was Mr. Mathews's misfortune to be
prejudiced by not carrying his force down together, which I shall
endeavor to avoid." Gardiner again "took the liberty" of saying he would
answer for one of the two captains doing his duty. The incident, up to
the ship gathering way again, occupied less than ten minutes; but with
the van going down headlong--as it ought--one ceases to wonder at the
impression on the public produced by one who preferred lagging for
laggards to hastening to support the forward, and that the populace
suspected something worse than pedantry in such reasoning at such a
moment. When way was resumed, it was again under the very leisurely
canvas of topsails and foresail.
By this had occurred the incident of the _Intrepid_ losing her
foretopmast. It was an ordinary casualty of battle, and one to be
expected; but to such a temper as Byng's, and under the cast-iron
regulations of the Instructions, it entailed consequences fatal to
success in the action,--if success were ever attainable under such a
method,--and was ultimately fatal to the admiral himself. The wreck of
the fallen mast was cleared, and the foresail set to maintain speed,
but, despite all, the _Intrepid_ dropped astern in the line. Cornwall in
the _Revenge_ was taking his place at the moment, and fearing that the
_Intrepid_ would come back upon him, if in her wake, he brought up first
a little to windward, on her quarter; then, thinking that she was
holding her way, he bore up again. At this particular instant he looked
behind, and saw the admiral and other ships a considerable distance
astern and to windward; much Lestock's position in Mathews's action.
This was the stoppage already mentioned, to wait for the two other
ships. Had Cornwall been Burrish, he might in this have seen occasion
for waiting himself; but he saw rather the need of the crippled ship.
The _Revenge_ took position on the _Intrepid's_ lee quarter, to support
her against the enemy's fire, concentrated on her when her mast was seen
to fall. As her way slackened, the _Revenge_ approached her, and about
fifteen minutes later the ship following, the _Princess Louisa_,--one of
those for which Byng had waited,--loomed up close behind Cornwall, who
expected her to run him on board, her braces being shot away. She
managed, however, with the helm to back her sails, and dropped clear;
but in so doing got in the way of the vessel next after her, the
_Trident_, which immediately preceded Byng. The captain of the
_Trident_, slanting down with the rest of the division, saw the
situation, put his helm up, ran under the stern of the _Louisa_, passed
on her lee side,--nearest the enemy,--and ranged up behind the
_Revenge_; but in doing this he not only crossed the stern of the
_Louisa_, but the bow of the admiral's ship--the _Ramillies_.
Under proper management the _Ramillies_ doubtless could have done just
what the _Trident_ did,--keep away with the helm, till the ships ahead
of her were cleared; she would be at least hasting towards the enemy.
But the noise of battle was in the air, and the crew of the _Ramillies_
began to fire without orders, at an improper distance. The admiral
permitted them to continue, and the smoke enveloping the ship prevented
fully noting the incidents just narrated. It was, however, seen before
the firing that the _Louisa_ was come up into the wind with her topsails
shaking, and the _Trident_ passing her to leeward. There should,
therefore, have been some preparation of mind for the fact suddenly
reported to the admiral, by a military passenger on the quarter deck,
that a British ship was close aboard, on the lee bow. It was the
_Trident_ that had crossed from windward to leeward for the reasons
given, and an instant later the _Louisa_ was seen on the weather bow.
Instead of keeping off, as the _Trident_ had done, the admiral ordered
the foresail hauled up, the helm down, luffed the ship to the wind, and
braced the fore-topsail sharp aback; the effect of which was first to
stop her way, and then to pay her head off to leeward, clear of the two
vessels. About quarter of an hour elapsed, by Captain Gardiner's
evidence, from the time that the _Ramillies's_ head pointed clear of the
_Trident_ and _Louisa_ before sail was again made to go forward to aid
the van. The battle was already lost, and in fact had passed out of
Byng's control, owing to his previous action; nevertheless this further
delay, though probably due only to the importance attached by the
admiral to regularity of movement, had a discreditable appearance.
The Court held that the admiral was justified in not trying to go to
leeward of the two ships, under the circumstances when they were seen;
but blamed him for permitting the useless cannonade which prevented
seeing them sooner. The results at this moment in other parts of the
field should be summarized, as they show both the cause and the
character of the failures due to faulty management.
The five ships of the British van had already seen their adversaries
withdraw after a sharp engagement. This seems to have been due to the
fact that two were individually overmatched and driven off; whereupon
the other three retired because unable to contend with five. But no
support reached the British van at this important moment; on the
contrary, the British rear was now two or three miles distant, astern
and to windward. The lagging of the crippled _Intrepid_ held back the
_Revenge_. Cornwall was detained some time by the old idea that he
needed a signal to pass her, because to do so was breaking the order
established by the admiral; but concluding at last that Byng was unaware
of the conditions, and seeing that his immediate opponent--the French
admiral--was drawing ahead, he sent word to the _Intrepid_ to hold her
fire for a few moments till he could go by. He then made sail.
The French rear with its commander-in-chief had been watching the
incidents narrated: the crippling of the _Intrepid_, the consequent
disorder in the British rear, and the increasing distance between it and
the van. When the _Revenge_, however, passed ahead, and Byng
disentangled his flag-ship, the moment for a decisive step arrived. The
French rear vessels were nearer the British van than Byng's division
was. They now filled their topsails, made more sail, stood for the
British leading ships, already partially unrigged, passed by, and in so
doing gave them the fire of a number of substantially fresh vessels,
which had undergone only a distant and ineffective cannonade. Byng saw
what was about to happen, and also set more canvas; but it was no longer
possible to retrieve the preceding errors. The French admiral had it in
his power very seriously to damage, if not to destroy the hostile van;
but in accordance with the tradition of his nation he played an
over-prudent game, strictly defensive, and kept too far off. After
exchanging distant broadsides, he steered northwest towards Mahon,
satisfied that he had for the time disabled his opponent. The British
that evening tacked off-shore and stood to the southeast. Four days
later they abandoned the field, returning to Gibraltar. The fall of
Minorca followed.
Nothing could have been much worse than the deplorable management of
this action on the part of the commander-in-chief. It is a conspicuous
instance of weak and halting execution, superimposed upon a professional
conception radically erroneous; and it reflected throughout the timid
hesitancy of spirit which dictated the return to Gibraltar, under the
always doubtful sanction of a Council of War. But the historical value
of the lesson is diminished if attention is confined to the shortcomings
of the admiral, neglectful of the fact that his views as to the
necessity to observe the routine of the Fighting Instructions are
reproduced in the evidence of the captains; and that the finding of the
Court censures, not the general idea, but certain details, important yet
secondary. Durell, being asked whether the admiral could not have passed
under the stern of the _Trident_, as the _Trident_ had under that of the
_Louisa_, replies, "Yes, but she would have been to leeward of those
ships ahead;" that is, to leeward of the line. Gardiner "knows no other
method than what the admiral took, for preserving the line regular."
Cornwall cannot pass the _Intrepid_ without a signal, because it would
be breaking the order. These were all good men.
The Court, composed of four admirals and nine captains, the junior of
whom had over ten years seniority, give in their finding no shadow of
disapproval to the broad outlines of the action. There can be,
therefore, no doubt about service standards. The questions put to the
witnesses reveal indeed a distinct preference for forming the line of
battle _parallel_ to that of the enemy before bearing down, so that all
the ships may have the same distance to go, have a clear field ahead of
each, and the comparatively simple mutual bearing of "abeam" to observe;
but it refrains from censuring the admiral for forming on a line very
oblique to that of the enemy, which entailed the burden of changing the
relative positions during standing down, so as to arrive all together,
on a line parallel to his; while the course itself being oblique alike
to their own front and the enemy's, each preceding ship was liable to
get in the way, "to prove an impediment," to its follower,--as actually
happened. It was indeed impossible to fault the commander-in-chief in
this particular, because his action was conformable to the letter of the
Instructions, with which he was evidently and subserviently eager to
comply.
The decision of the Court therefore was, in substance, that in bearing
down upon the enemy Byng did not do wrong in starting upon a line
oblique to them; but that he should have steered such a course, and
maintained such spread of sail, graduated to the speed of the slowest
ship in the fleet, that all should reach point-blank range at the same
time, and be then ranged on a line parallel to that of the enemy. "When
on the starboard tack, the admiral should have tacked the fleet all
together and immediately conducted it on a direct course for the
enemy; ... each ship steering for her opposite ship in the enemy's line,
and under such sail as might have enabled the worst sailing ship, under
all her plain sail, to preserve her station." It is needless to insist with
any naval man, or to any soldier, that such an advance, in orderly
fashion, oblique to the front, is unattainable except by long drill,
while this fleet had been but a few weeks assembled; and the difficulty
is enhanced when each ship has not only to keep its station in line, but
to reach a particular enemy, who may not be just where he ought, having
respect to the British order. The manoeuvre favored by the Court for the
fleet as a whole was in fact just that which Byng attempted for his own
division, with the results that have been narrated. These were
aggravated by his mismanagement, but did not originate from it.
The invariable result of an attack thus attempted, however vigorously
made, was that the van of the assailant got into action first, receiving
the brunt of the enemy's fire without proper support. Not infrequently,
it also underwent a second hammering from the enemy's rear, precisely in
the same way as occurred in Byng's action; and whether this happened or
not depended more upon the enemy than upon the British rear. In
ignoring, therefore, the idea of combining an attack in superior
numbers upon a part of the enemy, and adopting instead that of an
onslaught upon his whole, all along the line, the British practice of
the eighteenth century not only surrendered the advantage which the
initiative has, of effecting a concentration, but subjected their own
fleets to being beaten in detail, subject only to the skill of the
opponent in using the opportunity extended to him. The results, at best,
were indecisive, tactically considered. The one apparent exception was
in June, 1794, when Lord Howe, after long vainly endeavoring a better
combination with a yet raw fleet, found himself forced to the old
method; but although then several ships were captured, this issue seems
attributable chiefly to the condition of the French Navy, greatly fallen
through circumstances foreign to the present subject. It was with this
system that Rodney was about to break, the first of his century formally
to do so. A false tactical standard, however, was not the only drawback
under which the British Navy labored in 1739. The prolonged series of
wars, which began when the establishment of civil order under Cromwell
permitted the nation to turn from internal strife to external interests,
had been for England chiefly maritime. They had recurred at brief
intervals, and had been of such duration as to insure a continuity of
experience and development. Usage received modification under the
influence of constant warlike practice, and the consequent changes in
methods, if not always thoroughly reasoned, at the least reflected a
similar process of professional advance in the officers of the service.
This was consecutively transmitted, and by the movement of actual war
was prevented from stagnating and hardening into an accepted finality.
Thus the service and its officers, in the full performance of their
functions, were alive and growing. Nor was this all. The same
surroundings that promoted this healthful evolution applied also a
continual test of fitness to persons. As each war began, there were
still to be found in the prime of vigor and usefulness men whose
efficiency had been proved in its predecessor, and thus the line of
sustained ability in leadership was carried on from one naval generation
to another, through the sixty-odd years, 1652-1713, over which these
conditions extended.
The peace of Utrecht in 1713 put an end to this period. A disputed
succession after the death of Queen Anne, in 1714, renewed the condition
of internal disquietude which had paralyzed the external action of
England under Charles I.; and this co-operated with the mere weariness
of war, occasioned by prolonged strife, to give both the country and the
navy a temporary distaste to further military activity. The man of the
occasion, who became the exponent and maintainer of this national
inclination, was Sir Robert Walpole; to whom, during his ministry of
over twenty years, can fairly be applied Jefferson's phrase concerning
himself, that his "passion was peace." But, whatever the necessity to
the country of such a policy, it too often results, as it did in both
these cases, in neglect of the military services, allowing the equipment
to decay, and tending to sap the professional interest and competency of
the officers.
From this last evil the United States Navy in Jefferson's day was saved
by the simple fact that the officers were young men, or at the most in
the early prime of life,--the Navy itself, in 1812, being less than
twenty years old as a corporate organization. The British Navy of 1739
was in very different case. For a quarter of a century the only
important military occurrence had been the Battle of Cape Passaro, in
1718, where the British fleet in a running fight destroyed a much
inferior Spanish force; and the occasion then was not one of existent
war, but of casual hostilities, which, precipitated by political
conditions, began and ended with the particular incident, as far as the
sea was concerned. Back of this lay only Malaga, in 1704; for the
remaining years of war, up to 1713, had been unmarked by fleet battles.
The tendency of this want of experience, followed by the long
period--not of peace only, but--of professional depression resultant
upon inactivity and national neglect, was to stagnation, to obviate
which no provision existed or was attempted. Self-improvement was not a
note of the service, nor of the times. The stimulus of occupation and
the corrective of experience being removed, average men stuck where they
were, and grew old in a routine of service, or, what was perhaps worse,
out of the service in all but name. In naval warfare, the Battle of
Malaga, the last point of performance, remained the example, and the
Fighting Instructions the passively accepted authority. The men at the
head of the Navy, to whom the country naturally looked, either had no
record--no proof of fitness--because but youths in the last war, or
else, in simple consequence of having then had a chance to show
themselves, were now superannuated. This very fact, however, had the
singular and unfortunate result that, because the officers of reputation
were old, men argued, by a curious perversion of thought, that none but
the old should be trusted.
Of this two significant cases will tell more than many words. Mathews,
who commanded at Toulon in 1744, was then sixty-seven years old, and had
not been at sea between 1724 and 1742. Hawke, in 1747, when he had
already established an excellent reputation as a captain, and for
enterprise in recent battle, was thought young to be entrusted with a
squadron of a dozen ships-of-the-line, although he was forty-two,--two
years older than Nelson at the Nile, but four years younger than
Napoleon and Wellington at Waterloo, and one year less in age than Grant
at the close of the American Civil War. Such instances are not of
merely curious interest; they are symptoms of professional states of
mind, of a perplexity and perversion of standards which work
disastrously whenever war succeeds to a prolonged period of peace, until
experience has done its work by sorting out the unsound from among the
fair-seeming, and has shown also that men may be too old as well as too
young for unaccustomed responsibility. The later prevalence of juster
views was exemplified in the choice of Wolfe, who was but thirty-two
when he fell before Quebec in 1759, charged with one of the most
difficult enterprises that had then been entrusted to a British general.
It is these two factors, therefore, an erroneous standard and a
lethargic peace, which principally caused the weakness of the British
official staff for battle service at the period of lowest descent, which
was reached in the first quarter of the eighteenth century, but was
prolonged and intensified by a protracted interval of professional
apathy. Other grievous evils doubtless existed, serious defects in
administration, involving indifferent equipment, bad and scanty
provisions, inferior physique in the ships' companies, and wretched
sanitary arrangements; but while all these unquestionably gravely
affected general efficiency for war, they belonged rather to the civil
than the military side of the profession. In the hour of battle it was
not these, but the tone and efficiency of the officers, that chiefly
told. A false pattern of action had been accepted at a moment favorable
to its perpetuation, when naval warfare on the grand scale had ceased,
owing to the decline of the principal enemy, the navy of France; while
the average competency of naval officers had been much lowered through
want of professional incentive, and the absence of any sifting process
by which the unfit could be surely eliminated. That plenty of good
material existed, was sufficiently shown by the number of names,
afterwards distinguished, which soon began to appear. Weeding went on
apace; but before its work was done, there had to be traversed a painful
period, fruitful of evidences of unfitness, of personal weakness, of low
or false professional ideas.
It is with this period that we have first had to do as our point of
departure, by which not only to estimate the nature and degree of the
subsequent advance, but to illustrate also the part specifically
contributed to it by Hawke and Rodney, through their personal and
professional characteristics. While types, they are more than mere
exponents of the change as a whole, and will be found to bear to it
particular relations,--its leaders in fact, as well as in name. It is
not merely fanciful to say that Hawke stands for and embodies the spirit
of the new age, while Rodney rather exemplifies and develops the form in
which that spirit needed ultimately to cloth itself in order to perfect
its working. The one is a protest in act against the professional
faintheartedness, exaggerated into the semblance of personal timidity,
shown by the captains off Toulon in 1774; the other, in the simple but
skilful methods and combinations adopted by him, both represents and
gives effect to a reaction against the extravagant pedantry, which it
fell to Byng, in all the honesty of a thoroughly commonplace man, to
exhibit in unintentional caricature.
In thus ascribing to these great men complementary parts in leading and
shaping the general movement, it is not meant that either is deficient
on the side attributed to the other. Hawke showed by his actions that he
was by no means indifferent to tactical combinations, which is another
way of saying that he appreciated the advantage of form in warfare;
while Rodney, though a careful organizer and driller of fleets, and
patient in effort to obtain advantage before attacking, exhibited on
occasion headlong, though not inconsiderate, audacity, and also
tenacious endurance in fight. Still, it will probably be admitted by the
student of naval biography that to him Hawke suggests primarily the
unhesitating sudden rush--the swoop--upon the prey, while Rodney
resembles rather the patient astute watcher, carefully keeping his own
powers in hand, and waiting for the unguarded moment when the adversary
may be taken suddenly at unawares. Certain it is that, with
opportunities much more numerous than were permitted to Hawke, his
successes would have been far greater but for an excess of methodical
caution. There was a third, who combined in due proportion, and
possessed to an extraordinary degree, the special qualities here
assigned to each. It is one of the ironies of history that the first Sir
Samuel Hood should have had just opportunity enough to show how great
were his powers, and yet have been denied the chance to exhibit them
under conditions to arrest the attention of the world; nay, have been
more than once compelled to stand by hopelessly, and see occasions lost
which he would unquestionably have converted into signal triumphs. In
him, as far as the record goes, was consummated the advance of the
eighteenth century. He was the greatest of the sowers. It fell to
Nelson, his pupil,--in part at least,--to reap the harvest.
Before closing this part of our subject, the necessary preliminary to
understanding the progress of naval warfare in the eighteenth century,
it is pertinent to note the respect in which advance there differs from
that of the nineteenth, and in some degree, though less, from that of
the seventeenth centuries. The period was not one of marked material
development. Improvements there were, but they were slow, small in
ultimate extent, and in no sense revolutionary. Ships and guns, masts
and sails, grew better, as did also administrative processes; it may
indeed be asserted, as an axiom of professional experience, that as the
military tone of the sea-officers rises, the effect will be transmitted
to those civil functions upon which efficiency for war antecedently
depends. Still, substantially, the weapons of war were in principle, and
consequently in general methods of handling, the same at the end of the
period as at the beginning. They were intrinsically more efficient; but
the great gain was not in them, but in the spirit and intellectual grasp
of the men who wielded them. There was no change in the least analogous
to that from oars to sails, or from sails to steam.
Under such conditions of continued similarity in means, advance in the
practice of any profession is effected rather in the realm of ideas, in
intellectual processes; and even their expert application involves mind
rather than matter. In the nineteenth century such intellectual
processes have been largely devoted to the purposes of material
development, and have found their realization, in the navy as elsewhere,
in revolutionizing instruments, in providing means never before
attainable. The railroad, the steamer, the electric telegraph, find
their counterpart in the heavily armored steamship of war. But in
utilizing these new means the navy must still be governed by the ideas,
which are, indeed, in many ways as old as military history, but which in
the beginning of the eighteenth century had passed out of the minds of
naval men. It was the task of the officers of that period to recall
them, to formulate them anew, to give them a living hold upon the theory
and practice of the profession. This they did, and they were undoubtedly
helped in so doing by the fact that their attention was not diverted and
absorbed, as that of our day very largely has been, by decisive changes
in the instruments with which their ideas were to be given effect. Thus
they were able to make a substantial and distinctive contribution to the
art of naval warfare, and that on its highest side. For the artist is
greater than his materials, the warrior than his arms; and it was in the
man rather than in his weapons that the navy of the eighteenth century
wrought its final conspicuous triumph.