CHAPTER X.

MARITIME WAR IN NORTH AMERICA AND WEST INDIES, 1778-1781.--ITS

INFLUENCE UPON THE COURSE OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION.--FLEET

ACTIONS OFF GRENADA, DOMINICA, AND CHESAPEAKE BAY.

On the 15th of April, 1778, Admiral Comte d'Estaing sailed from Toulon

for the American continent, having under his command twelve

ships-of-the-line and five frigates. With him went as a passenger a

minister accredited to Congress, who was instructed to decline all

requests for subsidies, and to avoid explicit engagements relative to

the conquest of Canada and other British possessions. "The Cabinet of

Versailles," says a French historian, "was not sorry for the United

States to have near them a cause of anxiety, which would make them

feel the value of the French alliance."[129] While acknowledging the

generous sympathy of many Frenchmen for their struggle, Americans need

not blind themselves to the self-interestedness of the French

government. Neither should they find fault; for its duty was to

consider French interests first.

D'Estaing's progress was very slow. It is said that he wasted much

time in drills, and even uselessly. However that may be, he did not

reach his destination, the Capes of the Delaware, until the 8th of

July,--making a passage of twelve weeks, four of which were spent in

reaching the Atlantic. The English government had news of his intended

sailing; and in fact, as soon as they recalled their ambassador at

Paris, orders were sent to America to evacuate Philadelphia, and

concentrate upon New York. Fortunately for them, Lord Howe's

movements were marked by a vigor and system other than D'Estaing's.

First assembling his fleet and transports in Delaware Bay, and then

hastening the embarkation of stores and supplies, he left Philadelphia

as soon as the army had marched from there for New York. Ten days were

taken up in reaching the mouth of the bay;[130] but he sailed from it

the 28th of June, ten days before D'Estaing arrived, though more than

ten weeks after he had sailed. Once outside, a favoring wind took the

whole fleet to Sandy Hook in two days. War is unforgiving; the prey

that D'Estaing had missed by delays foiled him in his attempts upon

both New York and Rhode Island.

The day after Howe's arrival at Sandy Hook the English army reached

the heights of Navesink, after an harassing march through New Jersey,

with Washington's troops hanging upon its rear. By the active

co-operation of the navy it was carried up to New York by the 5th of

July; and Howe then went back to bar the entrance to the port against

the French fleet. As no battle followed, the details of his

arrangements will not be given; but a very full and interesting

account by an officer of the fleet can be found in Ekins's "Naval

Battles." Attention, however, may well be called to the combination of

energy, thought, skill, and determination shown by the admiral. The

problem before him was to defend a practicable pass with six

sixty-four-gun ships and three of fifty, against eight of seventy-four

guns or over, three sixty-fours, and one fifty,--it may be said

against nearly double his own force.

D'Estaing anchored outside, south of the Hook, on the 11th of July,

and there remained until the 22d, engaged in sounding the bar, and

with every apparent determination to enter. On the 22d a high

northeast wind, coinciding with a spring tide, raised the water on the

bar to thirty feet. The French fleet got under way, and worked up to

windward to a point fair for crossing the bar. Then D'Estaing's heart

failed him under the discouragement of the pilots; he gave up the

attack and stood away to the southward.

Naval officers cannot but sympathize with the hesitation of a seaman

to disregard the advice of pilots, especially on a coast foreign to

him; but such sympathy should not close their eyes to the highest type

of character. Let any one compare the action of D'Estaing at New York

with that of Nelson at Copenhagen and the Nile, or that of Farragut at

Mobile and Port Hudson, and the inferiority of the Frenchman as a

military leader, guided only by military considerations, is painfully

apparent. New York was the very centre of the British power; its fall

could not but have shortened the war. In fairness to D'Estaing,

however, it must be remembered that other than military considerations

had to weigh with him. The French admiral doubtless had instructions

similar to those of the French minister, and he probably reasoned that

France had nothing to gain by the fall of New York, which might have

led to peace between America and England, and left the latter free to

turn all her power against his own country. Less than that would have

been enough to decide his wavering mind as to risking his fleet over

the bar.

Howe was more fortunate than D'Estaing, in having no divided purposes.

Having escaped from Philadelphia and saved New York by his diligence,

he had in store the further honor of saving Rhode Island by the like

rapid movements. Scattered ships-of-war from a fleet despatched from

England now began to arrive. On the 28th of July Howe was informed

that the French fleet, which had disappeared to the southward, had

been seen heading for Rhode Island. In four days his fleet was ready

for sea, but owing to contrary winds did not reach Point Judith till

the 9th of August. There he anchored, and learned that D'Estaing had

run the batteries the day before and anchored between Gould and

Canonicut Islands;[131] the Seakonnet and Western passages had also

been occupied by French ships, and the fleet was prepared to sustain

the American army in an attack upon the British works.

The arrival of Howe, although his reinforcements did not raise the

English fleet to over two thirds the strength of the French, upset

D'Estaing's plans. With the prevailing summer southwest breezes

blowing straight into the bay, he was exposed to any attempts his

adversary might make. That same night the wind shifted unexpectedly to

the northward, and D'Estaing at once got under way and stood out to

sea. Howe, though surprised by this unlooked-for act,--for he had not

felt himself strong enough to attack,--also made sail to keep the

weather-gage. The next twenty-four hours passed in manoeuvring for the

advantage; but on the night of the 11th of August a violent gale of

wind dispersed the fleets. Great injury was done to the vessels of

both, and among others the French flag-ship "Languedoc," of ninety

guns, lost all her masts and her rudder. Immediately after the gale

two different English fifty-gun ships, in fighting order, fell in, the

one with the "Languedoc," the other with the "Tonnant," of eighty

guns, having only one mast standing. Under such conditions both

English ships attacked; but night coming on, they ceased action,

intending to begin again in the morning. When morning came, other

French ships also came, and the opportunity was lost. It is suggestive

to note that one of the captains was Hotham, who as admiral of the

Mediterranean fleet, seventeen years later, so annoyed Nelson by his

cool satisfaction in having taken only two ships: "We must be

contented; we have done very well." This was the immediate occasion of

Nelson's characteristic saying, "Had we taken ten sail, and allowed

the eleventh to escape, being able to get at her, I could never have

called it well done."

The English fell back on New York. The French rallied again off the

entrance of Narragansett Bay; but D'Estaing decided that he could not

remain on account of the damage to the squadron, and accordingly

sailed for Boston on the 21st of August. Rhode Island was thus left to

the English, who retained it for a year longer, evacuating then for

strategic reasons. Howe on his part diligently repaired his ships, and

sailed again for Rhode Island when he heard of the French being there;

but meeting on the way a vessel with word of their going to Boston, he

followed them to that harbor, in which they were too strongly placed

to be attacked. Taking into consideration his enforced return to New

York, the necessary repairs, and the fact that he was only four days

behind the French at Boston, it may be believed that Howe showed to

the end the activity which characterized the beginning of his

operations.

Scarcely a shot had been exchanged between the two fleets, yet the

weaker had thoroughly outgeneralled the stronger. With the exception of

the manoeuvres for the weather-gage after D'Estaing left Newport, which

have not been preserved, and of Howe's dispositions to receive the

expected attack in New York Bay, the lessons are not tactical, but

strategic, and of present application. Chief among them undoubtedly

stands the value of celerity and watchfulness, combined with knowledge

of one's profession. Howe learned of his danger by advices from home

three weeks after D'Estaing sailed from Toulon. He had to gather in his

cruisers from the Chesapeake and outside, get his ships-of-the-line

from New York and Rhode Island, embark the supplies of an army of ten

thousand men, move down the Delaware,--which unavoidably took ten

days,--and round to New York again. D'Estaing was ten days behind him

at the Delaware, twelve days at Sandy Hook, and only one day ahead of

him in entering Newport, outside which harbor he had lain ten days

before sailing in. An English narrator in the fleet, speaking of the

untiring labor between June 30, when the English army reached Navesink,

and the arrival of the French fleet on the 11th of July, says: "Lord

Howe attended in person as usual, and by his presence animated the zeal

and quickened the industry of officers and men." In this quality he was

a marked contrast to his amiable but indolent brother, General Howe.

The same industry and watchfulness marked his remaining operations. As

soon as the French ships hauled off to the southward, lookout vessels

followed them, and preparations continued (notably of fireships) for

pursuit. The last ship that joined from England crossed the bar at New

York on the 30th of July. On the 1st of August the fleet was ready for

sea, with four fire-ships. The accident of the wind delayed his next

movements; but, as has been seen, he came up only one day after the

entrance of the enemy into Newport, which his inferior force could not

have prevented. But the object of the enemy, which he could not

oppose, was frustrated by his presence. D'Estaing was no sooner in

Newport than he wished himself out. Howe's position was strategically

excellent. With his weatherly position in reference to the prevailing

winds, the difficulty of beating a fleet out through the narrow

entrance to the harbor would expose the French ships trying it to be

attacked in detail; while if the wind unluckily came fair, the admiral

relied upon his own skill to save his squadron.

Cooper, in one of his novels, "The Two Admirals," makes his hero say

to a cavilling friend that if he had not been in the way of good luck,

he could not have profited by it. The sortie of the French, the

subsequent gale, and the resulting damage were all what is commonly

called luck; but if it had not been for Howe's presence off Point

Judith threatening them, they would have ridden out the gale at their

anchors inside. Howe's energy and his confidence in himself as a

seaman had put him in the way of good luck, and it is not fair to deny

his active share in bringing it about. But for him the gale would not

have saved the British force in Newport.[132]

D'Estaing, having repaired his ships, sailed with his whole force for

Martinique on the 4th of November; on the same day Commodore Hotham

left New York for Barbadoes, with five sixty-four and fifty-gun ships

and a convoy of five thousand troops, destined for the conquest of

Sta. Lucia Island. On the way a heavy gale of wind injured the French

fleet more than the English, the French flag-ship losing her main and

mizzen topmasts. The loss of these spars, and the fact that twelve

unencumbered ships-of-war reached Martinique only one day before the

convoy of fifty-nine English transports reached Barbadoes, a hundred

miles farther on, tells badly for the professional skill which then

and now is a determining feature in naval war.

Admiral Barrington, commanding at Barbadoes, showed the same energy as

Howe. The transports arrived on the 10th; the troops were kept on

board; sailed on the morning of the 12th for Sta. Lucia, and anchored

there at three P.M. the 13th. The same afternoon half the troops were

landed, and the rest the next morning. They seized at once a better

port, to which the admiral was about to move the transports when the

appearance of D'Estaing prevented him. All that night the transports

were being warped inside the ships-of-war, and the latter anchored

across the entrance to the bay, especial care being taken to

strengthen the two extremities of the line, and to prevent the enemy

from passing inside the weather end, as the English ships in after

years did at the battle of the Nile. The French was much more than

double the English fleet; and if the latter were destroyed, the

transports and troops would be trapped.

D'Estaing stood down along the English order twice from north to

south, cannonading at long range, but did not anchor. Abandoning then

his intentions against the fleet, he moved to another bay, landed some

French soldiers, and assaulted the position of the English troops.

Failing here also, he retired to Martinique; and the French garrison,

which had been driven into the interior of the island, surrendered.

It seems scarcely necessary to point out the admirable diligence of

Admiral Barrington, to which and to the skill of his dispositions he

owed this valuable strategic success; for such it was. Sta. Lucia was

the island next south of Martinique, and the harbor of Gros Ilot at

its northern end was especially adapted to the work of watching the

French depot at Fort Royal, their principal station in the West

Indies. Thence Rodney pursued them before his great action in 1782.

The absence of precise information causes hesitation in condemning

D'Estaing for this mortifying failure. His responsibility depends upon

the wind, which may have been light under the land, and upon his power

to anchor. The fact, however, remains that he passed twice along the

enemy's line within cannon-shot, yet did not force a decisive action.

His course was unfavorably criticised by the great Suffren, then one

of his captains.[133]

The English had thus retrieved the capture of Dominica, which had been

taken on the 8th of September by the French governor of the West India

Islands. There being no English squadron there, no difficulty had been

met. The value of Dominica to the French has been pointed out; and it

is necessary here to use the example of both Dominica and Sta. Lucia

to enforce what has before been said, that the possession of these

smaller islands depended solely upon the naval preponderance. Upon the

grasp of this principle held by any one will depend his criticism upon

the next action of D'Estaing, to be immediately related.

Six months of almost entire quiet followed the affair of Sta. Lucia.

The English were reinforced by the fleet of Byron, who took chief

command; but the French, being joined by ten more ships-of-the-line,

remained superior in numbers. About the middle of June, Byron sailed

with his fleet to protect a large convoy of merchant-ships, bound for

England, till they were clear of the islands. D'Estaing then sent a

very small expedition which seized St. Vincent, June 16, 1779, without

difficulty; and on the 30th of June he sailed with his whole fleet to

attack Grenada. Anchoring off Georgetown on the 2d of July, he landed

his soldiers, and on the 4th the garrison of seven hundred men

surrendered the island. Meanwhile Byron, hearing of the loss of St.

Vincent and probable attack on Grenada, sailed with a large convoy of

vessels carrying troops, and with twenty-one ships-of-the-line, to

regain the one and relieve the other. Receiving on the way definite

information that the French were before Grenada, he kept on for it,

rounding the northwest point of the island at daybreak of July 6. His

approach had been reported the day before to D'Estaing, who remained

at anchor,[134] fearing lest with the currents and light winds he

might drop too far to leeward if he let go the bottom. When the

English came in sight, the French got under way; but the confused

massing of their ships prevented Byron from recognizing at once the

disparity of numbers, they having twenty-five ships-of-the-line. He

made signal for a general chase, and as the disorder of the French

fleet forced it to form on the leewardmost ships, the English easily

retained the advantage of the wind with which they approached. As the

action began, therefore, the French were to the westward with a partly

formed line, on the starboard tack, heading north, the rear in

disorder, and to windward of the van and centre (Plate X., A.). The

English stood down with a fair wind, steering south by west on the

port tack (A), between the island and the enemy, their leading ships

approaching at a slight angle, but heading more directly for his yet

unformed rear; while the English convoy was between its own fleet and

the island, under special charge of three ships (A, a), which were now

called in. As the signal so far commanded a general chase, the three

fastest of the English, among which was the flag of the second in

command, Admiral Barrington, came under fire of the French centre and

rear, apparently unsupported (b), and suffered much from the

consequent concentration of fire upon them. When they reached the

sternmost ships they wore upon the same tack with them and stood

north, after and to windward of them; and at about the same time

Byron, who had not before known of the surrender, saw the French flag

flying over the forts. Signals followed to wear in succession, and for

the advanced ships to form line for mutual support, ceasing the

general chase under which the engagement had hitherto been fought.

While the main body was still standing south on the port tack, three

ships,--"Cornwall," "Grafton," and "Lion" (c),--obeying literally the

signal for close action, had passed much to leeward of the others,

drawing upon themselves most of the fire of the enemy's line. They

thus suffered very severely in men and spars; and though finally

relieved by the advanced ships, as these approached from the southward

on the opposite tack, they were unable, after wearing (B, c', c''), to

keep up with the fleet, and so dropped astern and toward the French.

The bulk of the injury sustained by the English fell upon these three,

upon the three advanced ships under Barrington, and upon two others in

the rear (A, a), which, seeing the van so heavily engaged, did not

follow the successive movement, but bore down straight out of the

order, and took their places at the head of the column (B, a, a'),--an

act strongly resembling that which won Nelson such high renown at Cape

St. Vincent, but involving less responsibility.[135]

[Illustration: Pl. X. D'ESTAING AND BYRON JULY 6, 1779]

So far Byron had conducted his attack, using the initiative permitted

him by the advantage of the wind and the disorder of the French rear.

It will be observed that, though it was desirable to lose no time in

assailing the latter while in confusion, it is questionable whether

Barrington's three ships should have been allowed to separate as far

as they seem to have done from the rest of the fleet. A general chase

is permissible and proper when, from superiority of numbers, original

or acquired, or from the general situation, the ships first in action

will not be greatly outnumbered, or subjected to overpowering

concentration before support comes up, or when there is probability

that the enemy may escape unless promptly struck. This was not so

here. Nor should the "Cornwall," "Grafton," and "Lion" have been

permitted to take a course which allowed, almost compelled, the enemy

to concentrate rather than diffuse his fire. The details of the affair

are not precise enough to warrant more comment than naming these

mistakes, without necessarily attributing them to fault on the part of

the admiral.

The French had up to this time remained strictly on the defensive, in

accordance with their usual policy. There was now offered an

opportunity for offensive action which tested D'Estaing's professional

qualities, and to appreciate which the situation at the moment must be

understood. Both fleets were by this on the starboard tack, heading

north (B, B, B), the French to leeward. The latter had received little

injury in their motive power, though their line was not in perfect

order; but the English, owing to the faulty attack, had seven ships

seriously crippled, four of which--the "Monmouth" (a'), "Grafton,"

"Cornwall" (c'), and "Lion" (c'')--were disabled. The last three, by

three P.M., were a league astern and much to leeward of their line,

being in fact nearer the French than the English; while the speed of

the English fleet was necessarily reduced to that of the crippled

ships remaining in line. These conditions bring out strongly the

embarrassments of a fleet whose injuries are concentrated upon a few

ships, instead of being distributed among all; the ten or twelve which

were practically untouched had to conform to the capabilities of the

others. D'Estaing, with twenty-five ships, now had Byron to windward

of him with seventeen or eighteen capable of holding together, but

slower and less handy than their enemies, and saw him tactically

embarrassed by the care of a convoy to windward and three disabled

ships to leeward. Under these circumstances three courses were open to

the French admiral: (1) He might stretch ahead, and, tacking in

succession, place himself between Byron and the convoy, throwing his

frigates among the latter; (2) He might tack his fleet together and

stand up to the English line to bring on a general action; or (3) he

could, after going about, cut off the three disabled ships, which

might bring on a general action with less exposure.

None of these did he do. As regards the first, he, knowing the

criticisms of the fleet, wrote home that his line was too much

disordered to allow it. Whatever the technical irregularity, it is

difficult to believe that, with the relative power of motion in the

two fleets, the attempt was hopeless. The third alternative probably

presented the greatest advantage, for it insured the separation

between the enemy's main body and the crippled ships, and might very

probably exasperate the British admiral into an attack under most

hazardous conditions. It is stated by English authorities that Byron

said he would have borne down again, had any attack been made on them.

At three P.M. D'Estaing tacked all together, forming line on the lee

ship,[136] and stood to the southward again. The English imitated

this movement, except the van ship "Monmouth" (a'), which being too

badly hurt to manoeuvre kept on to the northward, and the three

separated ships. Two of these (c') kept on north and passed once more

under the French broadsides; but the "Lion" (c''), unable to keep to

the wind, kept broad off before it across the bows of the enemy, for

Jamaica, a thousand miles away. She was not pursued; a single

transport was the sole maritime trophy of the French. "Had the

admiral's seamanship equalled his courage," wrote the celebrated

Suffren, who commanded the French van ship, "we would not have

suffered four dismasted vessels to escape." "D'Estaing, at the age of

thirty, had been transferred from the army to the navy with the

premature rank of rear-admiral. The navy did not credit him with

nautical ability when the war broke out, and it is safe to say that

its opinion was justified by his conduct during it."[137] "Brave as

his sword, D'Estaing was always the idol of the soldier, the idol of

the seaman; but moral authority over his officers failed him on

several occasions, notwithstanding the marked protection extended to

him by the king."[138]

Another cause than incapacity as a seaman has usually been assigned by

French historians for the impotent action of D'Estaing on this

occasion. He looked upon Grenada, they say, as the real objective of

his efforts, and considered the English fleet a very secondary

concern. Ramatuelle, a naval tactician who served actively in this war

and wrote under the Empire, cites this case, which he couples with

that of Yorktown and others, as exemplifying the true policy of naval

war. His words, which probably reflect the current opinion of his

service in that day, as they certainly do the policy of French

governments, call for more than passing mention, as they involve

principles worthy of most serious discussion:--

"The French navy has always preferred the glory of assuring or

preserving a conquest to that, more brilliant perhaps, but

actually less real, of taking a few ships; and in that it has

approached more nearly the true end to be proposed in war. What

in fact would the loss of a few ships matter to the English? The

essential point is to attack them in their possessions, the

immediate source of their commercial wealth and of their

maritime power. The war of 1778 furnishes examples which prove

the devotion of the French admirals to the true interests of the

country. The preservation of the island of Grenada, the

reduction of Yorktown where the English army surrendered, the

conquest of the island of St. Christopher, were the result of

great battles in which the enemy was allowed to retreat

undisturbed, rather than risk giving him a chance to succor the

points attacked."

The issue could not be more squarely raised than in the case of

Grenada. No one will deny that there are moments when a probable

military success is to be foregone, or postponed, in favor of one

greater or more decisive. The position of De Grasse at the Chesapeake,

in 1781, with the fate of Yorktown hanging in the balance, is in

point; and it is here coupled with that of D'Estaing at Grenada, as

though both stood on the same grounds. Both are justified alike; not

on their respective merits as fitting the particular cases, but upon a

general principle. Is that principle sound? The bias of the writer

quoted betrays itself unconsciously, in saying "a few ships." A whole

navy is not usually to be crushed at a blow; a few ships mean an

ordinary naval victory. In Rodney's famous battle only five ships were

taken, though Jamaica was saved thereby.

In order to determine the soundness of the principle, which is claimed

as being illustrated by these two cases (St. Christopher will be

discussed later on), it is necessary to examine what was the advantage

sought, and what the determining factor of success in either case. At

Yorktown the advantage sought was the capture of Cornwallis's army;

the objective was the destruction of the enemy's organized military

force on shore. At Grenada the chosen objective was the possession of

a piece of territory of no great military value; for it must be

remarked that all these smaller Antilles, if held in force at all,

multiplied large detachments, whose mutual support depended wholly

upon the navy. These large detachments were liable to be crushed

separately, if not supported by the navy; and if naval superiority is

to be maintained, the enemy's navy must be crushed. Grenada, near and

to leeward of Barbadoes and Sta. Lucia, both held strongly by the

English, was peculiarly weak to the French; but sound military policy

for all these islands demanded one or two strongly fortified and

garrisoned naval bases, and dependence for the rest upon the fleet.

Beyond this, security against attacks by single cruisers and

privateers alone was needed.

Such were the objectives in dispute. What was the determining factor

in this strife? Surely the navy, the organized military force afloat.

Cornwallis's fate depended absolutely upon the sea. It is useless to

speculate upon the result, had the odds on the 5th of September, 1781,

in favor of De Grasse, been reversed; if the French, instead of five

ships more, had had five ships less than the English. As it was, De

Grasse, when that fight began, had a superiority over the English

equal to the result of a hard-won fight. The question then was, should

he risk the almost certain decisive victory over the organized enemy's

force ashore, for the sake of a much more doubtful advantage over the

organized force afloat? This was not a question of Yorktown, but of

Cornwallis and his army; there is a great deal in the way things are

put.

So stated,--and the statement needs no modifications,--there can be

but one answer. Let it be remarked clearly, however, that _both_ De

Grasse's alternatives brought before him the organized forces as the

objective.

Not so with D'Estaing at Grenada. His superiority in numbers over the

English was nearly as great as that of De Grasse; his alternative

objectives were the organized force afloat and a small island,

fertile, but militarily unimportant. Grenada is said to have been a

strong position for defence; but intrinsic strength does not give

importance, if the position has not strategic value. To save the

island, he refused to use an enormous advantage fortune had given him

over the fleet. Yet upon the strife between the two navies depended

the tenure of the islands. Seriously to hold the West India Islands

required, first, a powerful seaport, which the French had; second, the

control of the sea. For the latter it was necessary, not to multiply

detachments in the islands, but to destroy the enemy's navy, which may

be accurately called the army in the field. The islands were but rich

towns; and not more than one or two fortified towns, or posts, were

needed.

It may safely be said that the principle which led to D'Estaing's

action was not, to say the least, unqualifiedly correct; for it led

him wrong. In the case of Yorktown, the principle as stated by

Ramatuelle is not the _justifying_ reason of De Grasse's conduct,

though it likely enough was the _real_ reason. What justified De

Grasse was that, the event depending upon the unshaken control of the

sea, for a short time only, he already had it by his greater numbers.

Had the numbers been equal, loyalty to the military duty of the hour

must have forced him to fight, to stop the attempt which the English

admiral would certainly have made. The destruction of a few ships, as

Ramatuelle slightingly puts it, gives just that superiority to which

the happy result at Yorktown was due. As a general principle, this is

undoubtedly a better objective than that pursued by the French. Of

course, exceptions will be found; but those exceptions will probably

be where, as at Yorktown, the military force is struck at directly

elsewhere, or, as at Port Mahon, a desirable and powerful base of that

force is at stake; though even at Mahon it is doubtful whether the

prudence was not misplaced. Had Hawke or Boscawen met with Byng's

disaster, they would not have gone to Gibraltar to repair it, unless

the French admiral had followed up his first blow with others,

increasing their disability.

Grenada was no doubt very dear in the eyes of D'Estaing, because it

was his only success. After making the failures at the Delaware, at

New York, and at Rhode Island, with the mortifying affair at Sta.

Lucia, it is difficult to understand the confidence in him expressed

by some French writers. Gifted with a brilliant and contagious

personal daring, he distinguished himself most highly, when an

admiral, by leading in person assaults upon intrenchments at Sta.

Lucia and Grenada, and a few months later in the unsuccessful attack

upon Savannah.

During the absence of the French navy in the winter of 1778-79, the

English, controlling now the sea with a few of their ships that had

not gone to the West Indies, determined to shift the scene of the

continental war to the Southern States, where there was believed to be

a large number of loyalists. The expedition was directed upon Georgia,

and was so far successful that Savannah fell into their hands in the

last days of 1778. The whole State speedily submitted. Operations were

thence extended into South Carolina, but failed to bring about the

capture of Charleston.

Word of these events was sent to D'Estaing in the West Indies,

accompanied by urgent representations of the danger to the Carolinas,

and the murmurings of the people against the French, who were accused

of forsaking their allies, having rendered them no service, but on the

contrary having profited by the cordial help of the Bostonians to

refit their crippled fleet. There was a sting of truth in the alleged

failure to help, which impelled D'Estaing to disregard the orders

actually in his hands to return at once to Europe with certain ships.

Instead of obeying them he sailed for the American coast with

twenty-two ships-of-the-line, having in view two objects,--the relief

of the Southern States and an attack upon New York in conjunction with

Washington's army.

Arriving off the coast of Georgia on the 1st of September, D'Estaing

took the English wholly at unawares; but the fatal lack of promptness,

which had previously marked the command of this very daring man, again

betrayed his good fortune. Dallying at first before Savannah, the

fleeting of precious days again brought on a change of conditions, and

the approach of the bad-weather season impelled him, too slow at

first, into a premature assault. In it he displayed his accustomed

gallantry, fighting at the head of his column, as did the American

general; but the result was a bloody repulse. The siege was raised,

and D'Estaing sailed at once for France, not only giving up his

project upon New York, but abandoning the Southern States to the

enemy. The value of this help from the great sea power of France, thus

cruelly dangled before the eyes of the Americans only to be withdrawn,

was shown by the action of the English, who abandoned Newport in the

utmost haste when they learned the presence of the French fleet.

Withdrawal had been before decided upon, but D'Estaing's coming

converted it into flight.

After the departure of D'Estaing, which involved that of the whole

French fleet,--for the ships which did not go back to France returned

to the West Indies,--the English resumed the attack upon the Southern

States, which had for a moment been suspended. The fleet and army left

New York for Georgia in the last weeks of 1779, and after assembling

at Tybee, moved upon Charleston by way of Edisto. The powerlessness of

the Americans upon the sea left this movement unembarrassed save by

single cruisers, which picked up some stragglers,--affording another

lesson of the petty results of a merely cruising warfare. The siege of

Charleston began at the end of March,--the English ships soon after

passing the bar and Fort Moultrie without serious damage, and

anchoring within gunshot of the place. Fort Moultrie was soon and

easily reduced by land approaches, and the city itself was surrendered

on the 12th of May, after a siege of forty days. The whole State was

then quickly overrun and brought into military subjection.

The fragments of D'Estaing's late fleet were joined by a reinforcement

from France under the Comte de Guichen, who assumed chief command in

the West Indian seas March 22, 1780. The next day he sailed for Sta.

Lucia, which he hoped to find unprepared; but a crusty, hard-fighting

old admiral of the traditional English type, Sir Hyde Parker, had so

settled himself at the anchorage, with sixteen ships, that Guichen

with his twenty-two would not attack. The opportunity, if it were one,

did not recur. De Guichen, returning to Martinique, anchored there on

the 27th; and the same day Parker at Sta. Lucia was joined by the new

English commander-in-chief, Rodney.

This since celebrated, but then only distinguished, admiral was

sixty-two years old at the time of assuming a command where he was to

win an undying fame. Of distinguished courage and professional skill,

but with extravagant if not irregular habits, money embarrassments had

detained him in exile in France at the time the war began. A boast of

his ability to deal with the French fleet, if circumstances enabled

him to go back to England, led a French nobleman who heard it to

assume his debts, moved by feelings in which chivalry and national

pique probably bore equal shares. Upon his return he was given a

command, and sailed, in January, 1780, with a fleet of twenty

ships-of-the-line, to relieve Gibraltar, then closely invested. Off

Cadiz, with a good luck for which he was proverbial, he fell in with a

Spanish fleet of eleven ships-of-the-line, which awkwardly held their

ground until too late to fly.[139] Throwing out the signal for a

general chase, and cutting in to leeward of the enemy, between them

and their port, Rodney, despite a dark and stormy night, succeeded in

blowing up one ship and taking six. Hastening on, he relieved

Gibraltar, placing it out of all danger from want; and then, leaving

the prizes and the bulk of his fleet, sailed with the rest for his

station.

Despite his brilliant personal courage and professional skill, which

in the matter of tactics was far in advance of his contemporaries in

England, Rodney, as a commander-in-chief, belongs rather to the wary,

cautious school of the French tacticians than to the impetuous,

unbounded eagerness of Nelson. As in Tourville we have seen the

desperate fighting of the seventeenth century, unwilling to leave its

enemy, merging into the formal, artificial--we may almost say

trifling--parade tactics of the eighteenth, so in Rodney we shall see

the transition from those ceremonious duels to an action which, while

skilful in conception, aimed at serious results. For it would be

unjust to Rodney to press the comparison to the French admirals of his

day. With a skill that De Guichen recognized as soon as they crossed

swords, Rodney meant mischief, not idle flourishes. Whatever

incidental favors fortune might bestow by the way, the objective from

which his eye never wandered was the French fleet,--the organized

military force of the enemy on the sea. And on the day when Fortune

forsook the opponent who had neglected her offers, when the conqueror

of Cornwallis failed to strike while he had Rodney at a disadvantage,

the latter won a victory which redeemed England from the depths of

anxiety, and restored to her by one blow all those islands which the

cautious tactics of the allies had for a moment gained, save only

Tobago.

De Guichen and Rodney met for the first time on the 17th of April,

1780, three weeks after the arrival of the latter. The French fleet

was beating to windward in the Channel between Martinique and

Dominica, when the enemy was made in the southeast. A day was spent in

manoeuvring for the weather-gage, which Rodney got. The two fleets

being now well to leeward of the islands[140] (Plate XI.), both on the

starboard tack heading to the northward and the French on the lee bow

of the English, Rodney, who was carrying a press of sail, signalled to

his fleet that he meant to attack the enemy's rear and centre with his

whole force; and when he had reached the position he thought suitable,

ordered them to keep away eight points (90°) together (A, A, A). De

Guichen, seeing the danger of the rear, wore his fleet all together

and stood down to succor it. Rodney, finding himself foiled, hauled up

again on the same tack as the enemy, both fleets now heading to the

southward and eastward.[141] Later, he again made signal for battle,

followed an hour after, just at noon, by the order (quoting his own

despatch), "for every ship to bear down and steer for her opposite in

the enemy's line." This, which sounds like the old story of ship to

ship, Rodney explains to have meant her opposite at the moment, not

her opposite in numerical order. His own words are: "In a slanting

position, that my leading ships might attack the van ships of the

enemy's centre division, and the whole British fleet be opposed to

only two thirds of the enemy" (B, B). The difficulty and

misunderstanding which followed seem to have sprung mainly from the

defective character of the signal book. Instead of doing as the

admiral wished, the leading ships (a) carried sail so as to reach

their supposed station abreast their numerical opposite in the order.

Rodney stated afterward that when he bore down the second time, the

French fleet was in a very extended line of battle; and that, had his

orders been obeyed, the centre and rear must have been disabled before

the van could have joined.

[Illustration: Pl. XI. RODNEY & GUICHEN APRIL 17, 1780.]

There seems every reason to believe that Rodney's intentions

throughout were to double on the French, as asserted. The failure

sprang from the signal-book and tactical inefficiency of the fleet;

for which he, having lately joined, was not answerable. But the

ugliness of his fence was so apparent to De Guichen, that he

exclaimed, when the English fleet kept away the first time, that six

or seven of his ships were gone; and sent word to Rodney that if his

signals had been obeyed he would have had him for his prisoner.[142] A

more convincing proof that he recognized the dangerousness of his

enemy is to be found in the fact that he took care not to have the

lee-gage in their subsequent encounters. Rodney's careful plans being

upset, he showed that with them he carried all the stubborn courage of

the most downright fighter; taking his own ship close to the enemy and

ceasing only when the latter hauled off, her foremast and mainyard

gone, and her hull so damaged that she could hardly be kept afloat.

An incident of this battle mentioned by French writers and by

Botta,[143] who probably drew upon French authorities, but not found

in the English accounts, shows the critical nature of the attack in

the apprehension of the French. According to them, Rodney, marking a

gap in their order due to a ship in rear of the French admiral being

out of station, tried to break through (b); but the captain of the

"Destin," seventy-four, pressed up under more sail and threw himself

across the path of the English ninety-gun ship.

"The action of the 'Destin' was justly praised," says

Lapeyrouse-Bonfils. "The fleet ran the danger of almost certain

defeat, but for the bravery of M. de Goimpy. Such, after the

affair, was the opinion of the whole French squadron. Yet,

admitting that our line was broken, what disasters then would

necessarily threaten the fleet? Would it not always have been

easy for our rear to remedy the accident by promptly standing on

to fill the place of the vessels cut off? That movement would

necessarily have brought about a _mêlée_, which would have

turned to the advantage of the fleet having the bravest and most

devoted captains. But then, as under the empire, it was an

acknowledged principle that ships cut off were ships taken, and

the belief wrought its own fulfilment."

The effect of breaking an enemy's line, or order-of-battle, depends

upon several conditions. The essential idea is to divide the opposing

force by penetrating through an interval found, or made, in it, and

then to concentrate upon that one of the fractions which can be least

easily helped by the other. In a column of ships this will usually be

the rear. The compactness of the order attacked, the number of the

ships cut off, the length of time during which they can be isolated

and outnumbered, will all affect the results. A very great factor in

the issue will be the moral effect, the confusion introduced into a

line thus broken. Ships coming up toward the break are stopped, the

rear doubles up, while the ships ahead continue their course. Such a

moment is critical, and calls for instant action; but the men are rare

who in an unforeseen emergency can see, and at once take the right

course, especially if, being subordinates, they incur responsibility.

In such a scene of confusion the English, without presumption, hoped

to profit by their better seamanship; for it is not only "courage and

devotion," but skill, which then tells. All these effects of "breaking

the line" received illustration in Rodney's great battle in 1782.

De Guichen and Rodney met twice again in the following month, but on

neither occasion did the French admiral take the favorite lee-gage of

his nation. Meanwhile a Spanish fleet of twelve ships-of-the-line was

on its way to join the French. Rodney cruised to windward of

Martinique to intercept them; but the Spanish admiral kept a northerly

course, sighted Guadeloupe, and thence sent a despatch to De Guichen,

who joined his allies and escorted them into port. The great

preponderance of the coalition, in numbers, raised the fears of the

English islands; but lack of harmony led to delays and hesitations, a

terrible epidemic raged in the Spanish squadron, and the intended

operations came to nothing. In August De Guichen sailed for France

with fifteen ships. Rodney, ignorant of his destination, and anxious

about both North America and Jamaica, divided his fleet, leaving one

half in the islands, and with the remainder sailing for New York,

where he arrived on the 12th of September. The risk thus run was very

great, and scarcely justifiable; but no ill effect followed the

dispersal of forces.[144] Had De Guichen intended to turn upon

Jamaica, or, as was expected by Washington, upon New York, neither

part of Rodney's fleet could well have withstood him. Two chances of

disaster, instead of one, were run, by being in small force on two

fields instead of in full force on one.

Rodney's anxiety about North America was well grounded. On the 12th of

July of this year the long expected French succor arrived,--five

thousand French troops under Rochambeau and seven ships-of-the-line

under De Ternay. Hence the English, though still superior at sea, felt

forced to concentrate at New York, and were unable to strengthen their

operations in Carolina. The difficulty and distance of movements by

land gave such an advantage to sea power that Lafayette urged the

French government further to increase the fleet; but it was still

naturally and properly attentive to its own immediate interests in the

Antilles. It was not yet time to deliver America.

Rodney, having escaped the great hurricane of October, 1780, by his

absence, returned to the West Indies later in the year, and soon after

heard of the war between England and Holland; which, proceeding from

causes which will be mentioned later, was declared December 20, 1780.

The admiral at once seized the Dutch islands of St. Eustatius and St.

Martin, besides numerous merchant-ships, with property amounting in

all to fifteen million dollars. These islands, while still neutral,

had played a rôle similar to that of Nassau during the American Civil

War, and had become a great depot of contraband goods, immense

quantities of which now fell into the English hands.

The year 1780 had been gloomy for the cause of the United States. The

battle of Camden had seemed to settle the English yoke on South

Carolina, and the enemy formed high hopes of controlling both North

Carolina and Virginia. The treason of Arnold following had increased

the depression, which was but partially relieved by the victory at

King's Mountain. The substantial aid of French troops was the most

cheerful spot in the situation. Yet even that had a checkered light,

the second division of the intended help being blocked in Brest by the

English fleet; while the final failure of De Guichen to appear, and

Rodney coming in his stead, made the hopes of the campaign fruitless.

A period of vehement and decisive action was, however, at hand. At the

end of March, 1781, the Comte de Grasse sailed from Brest with

twenty-six ships-of-the-line and a large convoy. When off the Azores,

five ships parted company for the East Indies, under Suffren, of whom

more will be heard later on. De Grasse came in sight of Martinique on

the 28th of April. Admiral Hood (Rodney having remained behind at St.

Eustatius) was blockading before Fort Royal, the French port and

arsenal on the lee side of the island, in which were four

ships-of-the-line, when his lookouts reported the enemy's fleet. Hood

had two objects before him,--one to prevent the junction of the four

blockaded ships with the approaching fleet, the other to keep the

latter from getting between him and Gros Ilot Bay in Sta. Lucia.

Instead of effecting this in the next twenty-four hours, by beating to

windward of the Diamond Rock, his fleet got so far to leeward that De

Grasse, passing through the channel on the 29th, headed up for Fort

Royal, keeping his convoy between the fleet and the island. For this

false position Hood was severely blamed by Rodney, but it may have

been due to light winds and the lee current. However that be, the four

ships in Fort Royal got under way and joined the main body. The

English had now only eighteen ships to the French twenty-four, and the

latter were to windward; but though thus in the proportion of four to

three, and having the power to attack, De Grasse would not do it. The

fear of exposing his convoy prevented him from running the chance of a

serious engagement. Great must have been his distrust of his forces,

one would say. When is a navy to fight, if this was not a time? He

carried on a distant cannonade, with results so far against the

English as to make his backwardness yet more extraordinary. Can a

policy or a tradition which justifies such a line of conduct be good?

The following day, April 30, De Grasse, having thrown away his chance,

attempted to follow Hood; but the latter had no longer any reason for

fighting, and his original inferiority was increased by the severe

injuries of some ships on the 29th. De Grasse could not overtake him,

owing to the inferior speed of his fleet, many of the ships not being

coppered,--a fact worthy of note, as French vessels by model and size

were generally faster than English; but this superiority was

sacrificed through the delay of the government in adopting the new

improvement.

Hood rejoined Rodney at Antigua; and De Grasse, after remaining a

short time at Fort Royal, made an attempt upon Gros Ilot Bay, the

possession of which by the English kept all the movements of his fleet

under surveillance. Foiled here, he moved against Tobago, which

surrendered June 2, 1781. Sailing thence, after some minor operations,

he anchored on the 26th of July at Cap Français (now Cape Haytien), in

the island of Hayti. Here he found awaiting him a French frigate from

the United States, bearing despatches from Washington and Rochambeau,

upon which he was to take the most momentous action that fell to any

French admiral during the war.

The invasion of the Southern States by the English, beginning in

Georgia and followed by the taking of Charleston and the military

control of the two extreme States, had been pressed on to the

northward by way of Camden into North Carolina. On the 16th of August,

1780, General Gates was totally defeated at Camden; and during the

following nine months the English under Cornwallis persisted in their

attempts to overrun North Carolina. These operations, the narration of

which is foreign to our immediate subject, had ended by forcing

Cornwallis, despite many successes in actual encounter, to fall back

exhausted toward the seaboard, and finally upon Wilmington, in which

place depots for such a contingency had been established. His

opponent, General Greene, then turned the American troops toward South

Carolina. Cornwallis, too weak to dream of controlling, or even

penetrating, into the interior of an unfriendly country, had now to

choose between returning to Charleston, to assure there and in South

Carolina the shaken British power, and moving northward again into

Virginia, there to join hands with a small expeditionary force

operating on the James River under Generals Phillips and Arnold. To

fall back would be a confession that the weary marching and fighting

of months past had been without results, and the general readily

convinced himself that the Chesapeake was the proper seat of war, even

if New York itself had to be abandoned. The commander-in-chief, Sir

Henry Clinton, by no means shared this opinion, upon which was

justified a step taken without asking him. "Operations in the

Chesapeake," he wrote, "are attended with great risk unless we are

sure of a permanent superiority at sea. I tremble for the fatal

consequences that may ensue." For Cornwallis, taking the matter into

his own hands, had marched from Wilmington on the 25th of April, 1781,

joining the British already at Petersburg on the 20th of May. The

forces thus united numbered seven thousand men. Driven back from the

open country of South Carolina into Charleston, there now remained two

centres of British power,--at New York and in the Chesapeake. With New

Jersey and Pennsylvania in the hands of the Americans, communication

between the two depended wholly upon the sea.

Despite his unfavorable criticism of Cornwallis's action, Clinton had

himself already risked a large detachment in the Chesapeake. A body of

sixteen hundred men under Benedict Arnold had ravaged the country of

the James and burned Richmond in January of this same year. In the

hopes of capturing Arnold, Lafayette had been sent to Virginia with a

nucleus of twelve hundred troops, and on the evening of the 8th of

March the French squadron at Newport sailed, in concerted movement, to

control the waters of the bay. Admiral Arbuthnot, commanding the

English fleet lying in Gardiner's Bay,[145] learned the departure by

his lookouts, and started in pursuit on the morning of the 10th,

thirty-six hours later. Favored either by diligence or luck, he made

such good time that when the two fleets came in sight of each other, a

little outside of the capes of the Chesapeake, the English were

leading[146] (Plate XII., A, A). They at once went about to meet their

enemy, who, on his part, formed a line-of-battle. The wind at this

time was west, so that neither could head directly into the bay.

The two fleets were nearly equal in strength, there being eight ships

on each side; but the English had one ninety-gun ship, while of the

French one was only a heavy frigate, which was put into the line.

Nevertheless, the case was eminently one for the general French policy

to have determined the action of a vigorous chief, and the failure to

see the matter through must fall upon the good-will of Commodore

Destouches, or upon some other cause than that preference for the

ulterior objects of the operations, of which the reader of French

naval history hears so much. The weather was boisterous and

threatening, and the wind, after hauling once or twice, settled down

to northeast, with a big sea, but was then fair for entering the bay.

The two fleets were by this time both on the port tack standing out to

sea, the French leading, and about a point on the weather bow of the

English (B, B). From this position they wore in succession (c) ahead

of the latter, taking the lee-gage, and thus gaining the use of their

lower batteries, which the heavy sea forbade to the weather-gage. The

English stood on till abreast the enemy's line (a, b), when they wore

together, and soon after attacked in the usual manner, and with the

usual results (C). The three van ships were very badly injured aloft,

but in their turn, throwing their force mainly on the two leaders of

the enemy, crippled them seriously in hulls and rigging. The French

van then kept away, and Arbuthnot, in perplexity, ordered his van to

haul the wind again. M. Destouches now executed a very neat movement

by defiling. Signalling his van to haul up on the other tack (e), he

led the rest of his squadron by the disabled English ships, and after

giving them the successive broadsides of his comparatively fresh

ships, wore (d), and out to sea (D). This was the end of the battle,

in which the English certainly got the worst; but with their usual

tenacity of purpose, being unable to pursue their enemy afloat, they

steered for the bay (D), made the junction with Arnold, and thus broke

up the plans of the French and Americans, from which so much had been

hoped by Washington. There can be no doubt, after careful reading of

the accounts, that after the fighting the French were in better force

than the English, and they in fact claimed the victory; yet the

ulterior objects of the expedition did not tempt them again to try the

issue with a fleet of about their own size.[147]

[Illustration: Pl. XII. ARBUTHNOT & DESTOUCHES. MARCH 16, 1781.]

The way of the sea being thus open and held in force, two thousand

more English troops sailing from New York reached Virginia on the 26th

of March, and the subsequent arrival of Cornwallis in May raised the

number to seven thousand. The operations of the contending forces

during the spring and summer months, in which Lafayette commanded the

Americans, do not concern our subject. Early in August, Cornwallis,

acting under orders from Clinton, withdrew his troops into the

peninsula between the York and James rivers, and occupied Yorktown.

Washington and Rochambeau had met on the 21st of May, and decided that

the situation demanded that the effort of the French West Indian

fleet, when it came, should be directed against either New York or the

Chesapeake. This was the tenor of the despatch found by De Grasse at

Cap Français, and meantime the allied generals drew their troops

toward New York, where they would be on hand for the furtherance of

one object, and nearer the second if they had to make for it.

In either case the result, in the opinion both of Washington and of

the French government, depended upon superior sea power; but

Rochambeau had privately notified the admiral that his own preference

was for the Chesapeake as the scene of the intended operations, and

moreover the French government had declined to furnish the means for a

formal siege of New York.[148] The enterprise therefore assumed the

form of an extensive military combination, dependent upon ease and

rapidity of movement, and upon blinding the eyes of the enemy to the

real objective,--purposes to which the peculiar qualities of a navy

admirably lent themselves. The shorter distance to be traversed, the

greater depth of water and easier pilotage of the Chesapeake, were

further reasons which would commend the scheme to the judgment of a

seaman; and De Grasse readily accepted it, without making difficulties

or demanding modifications which would have involved discussion and

delay.

Having made his decision, the French admiral acted with great good

judgment, promptitude, and vigor. The same frigate that brought

despatches from Washington was sent back, so that by August 15th the

allied generals knew of the intended coming of the fleet. Thirty-five

hundred soldiers were spared by the governor of Cap Français, upon the

condition of a Spanish squadron anchoring at the place, which De

Grasse procured. He also raised from the governor of Havana the money

urgently needed by the Americans; and finally, instead of weakening

his force by sending convoys to France, as the court had wished, he

took every available ship to the Chesapeake. To conceal his coming as

long as possible, he passed through the Bahama Channel, as a less

frequented route, and on the 30th of August anchored in Lynnhaven Bay,

just within the capes of the Chesapeake, with twenty-eight

ships-of-the-line. Three days before, August 27, the French squadron

at Newport, eight ships-of-the-line with four frigates and eighteen

transports under M. de Barras, sailed for the rendezvous; making,

however, a wide circuit out to sea to avoid the English. This course

was the more necessary as the French siege-artillery was with it. The

troops under Washington and Rochambeau had crossed the Hudson on the

24th of August, moving toward the head of Chesapeake Bay. Thus the

different armed forces, both land and sea, were converging toward

their objective, Cornwallis.

The English were unfortunate in all directions. Rodney, learning of De

Grasse's departure, sent fourteen ships-of-the-line under Admiral Hood

to North America, and himself sailed for England in August, on account

of ill health. Hood, going by the direct route, reached the Chesapeake

three days before De Grasse, looked into the bay, and finding it empty

went on to New York. There he met five ships-of-the-line under Admiral

Graves, who, being senior officer, took command of the whole force and

sailed on the 31st of August for the Chesapeake, hoping to intercept

De Barras before he could join De Grasse. It was not till two days

later that Sir Henry Clinton was persuaded that the allied armies had

gone against Cornwallis, and had too far the start to be overtaken.

Admiral Graves was painfully surprised, on making the Chesapeake, to

find anchored there a fleet which from its numbers could only be an

enemy's. Nevertheless, he stood in to meet it, and as De Grasse got

under way, allowing his ships to be counted, the sense of numerical

inferiority--nineteen to twenty-four--did not deter the English

admiral from attacking. The clumsiness of his method, however,

betrayed his gallantry; many of his ships were roughly handled,

without any advantage being gained. De Grasse, expecting De Barras,

remained outside five days, keeping the English fleet in play without

coming to action; then returning to port he found De Barras safely at

anchor. Graves went back to New York, and with him disappeared the

last hope of succor that was to gladden Cornwallis's eyes. The siege

was steadily endured, but the control of the sea made only one issue

possible, and the English forces were surrendered October 19, 1781.

With this disaster the hope of subduing the colonies died in England.

The conflict flickered through a year longer, but no serious

operations were undertaken.

In the conduct of the English operations, which ended thus

unfortunately, there was both bad management and ill fortune. Hood's

detachment might have been strengthened by several ships from Jamaica,

had Rodney's orders been carried out.[149] The despatch-ship, also,

sent by him to Admiral Graves commanding in New York, found that

officer absent on a cruise to the eastward, with a view to intercept

certain very important supplies which had been forwarded by the

American agent in France. The English Court had laid great stress upon

cutting off this convoy; but, with the knowledge that he had of the

force accompanying it, the admiral was probably ill-advised in leaving

his headquarters himself, with all his fleet, at the time when the

approach of the hurricane season in the West Indies directed the

active operations of the navies toward the continent. In consequence

of his absence, although Rodney's despatches were at once sent on by

the senior officer in New York, the vessel carrying them being driven

ashore by enemy's cruisers, Graves did not learn their contents until

his return to port, August 16. The information sent by Hood of his

coming was also intercepted. After Hood's arrival, it does not appear

that there was avoidable delay in going to sea; but there does seem to

have been misjudgment in the direction given to the fleet. It was

known that De Barras had sailed from Newport with eight ships, bound

probably for the Chesapeake, certainly to effect a junction with De

Grasse; and it has been judiciously pointed out that if Graves had

taken up his cruising-ground near the Capes, but out of sight of land,

he could hardly have failed to fall in with him in overwhelming force.

Knowing what is now known, this would undoubtedly have been the proper

thing to do; but the English admiral had imperfect information. It

was nowhere expected that the French would bring nearly the force they

did; and Graves lost information, which he ought to have received, as

to their numbers, by the carelessness of his cruisers stationed off

the Chesapeake. These had been ordered to keep under way, but were

both at anchor under Cape Henry when De Grasse's appearance cut off

their escape. One was captured, the other driven up York River. No

single circumstance contributed more to the general result than the

neglect of these two subordinate officers, by which Graves lost that

all-important information. It can readily be conceived how his

movements might have been affected, had he known two days earlier that

De Grasse had brought twenty-seven or twenty-eight sail of the line;

how natural would have been the conclusion, first, to waylay De

Barras, with whom his own nineteen could more than cope. "Had Admiral

Graves succeeded in capturing that squadron, it would have greatly

paralyzed the besieging army [it had the siege train on board], if it

would not have prevented its operations altogether; it would have put

the two fleets nearly on an equality in point of numbers, would have

arrested the progress of the French arms for the ensuing year in the

West Indies, and might possibly have created such a spirit of discord

between the French and Americans[150] as would have sunk the latter

into the lowest depths of despair, from which they were only

extricated by the arrival of the forces under De Grasse."[151] These

are true and sober comments upon the naval strategy.

In regard to the admiral's tactics, it will be enough to say that the

fleet was taken into battle nearly as Byng took his; that very similar

mishaps resulted; and that, when attacking twenty-four ships with

nineteen, seven, under that capable officer Hood, were not able to get

into action, owing to the dispositions made.

On the French side De Grasse must be credited with a degree of energy,

foresight, and determination surprising in view of his failures at

other times. The decision to take every ship with him, which made him

independent of any failure on the part of De Barras; the passage

through the Bahama Channel to conceal his movements; the address with

which he obtained the money and troops required, from the Spanish and

the French military authorities; the prevision which led him, as early

as March 29, shortly after leaving Brest, to write to Rochambeau that

American coast pilots should be sent to Cap Français; the coolness

with which he kept Graves amused until De Barras's squadron had

slipped in, are all points worthy of admiration. The French were also

helped by the admiral's power to detain the two hundred

merchant-ships, the "West India trade," awaiting convoy at Cap

Français, where they remained from July till November, when the close

of operations left him at liberty to convoy them with ships-of-war.

The incident illustrates one weakness of a mercantile country with

representative government, compared with a purely military nation. "If

the British government," wrote an officer of that day, "had

sanctioned, or a British admiral had adopted, such a measure, the one

would have been turned out and the other hanged."[152] Rodney at the

same time had felt it necessary to detach five ships-of-the-line with

convoys, while half a dozen more went home with the trade from

Jamaica.

It is easier to criticise the division of the English fleet between

the West Indies and North America in the successive years 1780 and

1781, than to realize the embarrassment of the situation. This

embarrassment was but the reflection of the military difficulty of

England's position, all over the world, in this great and unequal war.

England was everywhere outmatched and embarrassed, as she has always

been as an empire, by the number of her exposed points. In Europe the

Channel fleet was more than once driven into its ports by overwhelming

forces. Gibraltar, closely blockaded by land and sea, was only kept

alive in its desperate resistance by the skill of English seamen

triumphing over the inaptness and discords of their combined enemies.

In the East Indies, Sir Edward Hughes met in Suffren an opponent as

superior to him in numbers as was De Grasse to Hood, and of far

greater ability. Minorca, abandoned by the home government, fell

before superior strength, as has been seen to fall, one by one, the

less important of the English Antilles. The position of England from

the time that France and Spain opened their maritime war was

everywhere defensive, except in North America; and was therefore, from

the military point of view, essentially false. She everywhere awaited

attacks which the enemies, superior in every case, could make at their

own choice and their own time. North America was really no exception

to this rule, despite some offensive operations which in no way

injured her real, that is her naval, foes.

Thus situated, and putting aside questions of national pride or

sensitiveness, what did military wisdom prescribe to England? The

question would afford an admirable study to a military inquirer, and

is not to be answered off-hand, but certain evident truths may be

pointed out. In the first place, it should have been determined what

part of the assailed empire was most necessary to be preserved. After

the British islands themselves, the North American colonies were the

most valuable possessions in the eyes of the England of that day. Next

should have been decided what others by their natural importance were

best worth preserving, and by their own inherent strength, or that of

the empire, which was mainly naval strength, could most surely be

held. In the Mediterranean, for instance, Gibraltar and Mahon were

both very valuable positions. Could both be held? Which was more

easily to be reached and supported by the fleet? If both could not

probably be held, one should have been frankly abandoned, and the

force and efforts necessary to its defence carried elsewhere. So in

the West Indies the evident strategic advantages of Barbadoes and Sta.

Lucia prescribed the abandonment of the other small islands by

garrisons as soon as the fleet was fairly outnumbered, if not before.

The case of so large an island as Jamaica must be studied separately,

as well as with reference to the general question. Such an island may

be so far self-supporting as to defy any attack but one in great force

and numbers, and that would rightly draw to it the whole English force

from the windward stations at Barbadoes and Sta. Lucia.

With the defence thus concentrated, England's great weapon, the navy,

should have been vigorously used on the offensive. Experience has

taught that free nations, popular governments, will seldom dare wholly

to remove the force that lies between an invader and its shores or

capital. Whatever the military wisdom, therefore, of sending the

Channel fleet to seek the enemy before it united, the step may not

have been possible. But at points less vital the attack of the English

should have anticipated that of the allies. This was most especially

true of that theatre of the war which has so far been considered. If

North America was the first object, Jamaica and the other islands

should have been boldly risked. It is due to Rodney to say that he

claims that his orders to the admirals at Jamaica and New York were

disobeyed in 1781, and that to this was owing the inferiority in

number of Graves's fleet.

But why, in 1780, when the departure of De Guichen for Europe left

Rodney markedly superior in numbers during his short visit to North

America, from September 14 to November 14, should no attempt have been

made to destroy the French detachment of seven ships-of-the-line in

Newport? These ships had arrived there in July; but although they had

at once strengthened their position by earthworks, great alarm was

excited by the news of Rodney's appearance off the coast. A fortnight

passed by Rodney in New York and by the French in busy work, placed

the latter, in their own opinion, in a position to brave all the naval

force of England. "We twice feared, and above all at the time of

Rodney's arrival," wrote the chief of staff of the French squadron,

"that the English might attack us in the road itself; and there was a

space of time during which such an undertaking would not have been an

act of rashness. Now [October 20], the anchorage is fortified so that

we can there brave all the naval force of England."[153]

The position thus taken by the French was undoubtedly very

strong.[154] It formed a re-entrant angle of a little over ninety

degrees, contained by lines drawn from Goat Island to what was then

called Brenton's Point, the site of the present Fort Adams on the one

side, and to Rose Island on the other. On the right flank of the

position Rose Island received a battery of thirty-six 24-pounders;

while twelve guns of the same size were placed on the left flank at

Brenton's Point. Between Rose and Goat islands four ships, drawn up on

a west-northwest line, bore upon the entrance and raked an approaching

fleet; while three others, between Goat Island and Brenton's Point,

crossed their fire at right angles with the former four.

On the other hand, the summer winds blow directly up the entrance,

often with great force. There could be no question even of a

considerably crippled attacking ship reaching her destined position,

and when once confused with the enemy's line, the shore batteries

would be neutralized. The work on Rose Island certainly, that on

Brenton's Point probably, had less height than the two upper batteries

of a ship-of-the-line, and could be vastly outnumbered. They could not

have been casemated, and might indisputably have been silenced by the

grapeshot of the ships that could have been brought against them. Rose

Island could be approached on the front and on the west flank within

two hundred yards, and on the north within half a mile. There was

nothing to prevent this right flank of the French, including the line

of ships, being enfiladed and crushed by the English ships taking

position west of Rose Island. The essential points of close range and

superior height were thus possible to the English fleet, which

numbered twenty to the enemy's seven. If successful in destroying the

shipping and reducing Rose Island, it could find anchorage farther up

the bay and await a favorable wind to retire. In the opinion of a

distinguished English naval officer of the day,[155] closely familiar

with the ground, there was no doubt of the success of an attack; and

he urged it frequently upon Rodney, offering himself to pilot the

leading ship. The security felt by the French in this position, and

the acquiescence of the English in that security, mark clearly the

difference in spirit between this war and the wars of Nelson and

Napoleon.

It is not, however, merely as an isolated operation, but in relation

to the universal war, that such an attempt is here considered. England

stood everywhere on the defensive, with inferior numbers. From such a

position there is no salvation except by action vigorous almost to

desperation. "It is impossible for us," wrote with great truth the

First Lord of the Admiralty to Rodney, "to have a superior fleet in

every part; and unless our commanders-in-chief will take the great

line, as you do, and consider the king's whole dominions under their

care, our enemies must find us unprepared somewhere, and carry their

point against us."[156] Attacks which considered in themselves alone

might be thought unjustifiable, were imposed upon English commanders.

The allied navy was the key of the situation, and its large

detachments, as at Newport, should have been crushed at any risk. The

effect of such a line of action upon the policy of the French

government is a matter of speculation, as to which the present writer

has no doubts; but no English officer in chief command rose to the

level of the situation, with the exception of Hood, and possibly of

Howe. Rodney was now old, infirm, and though of great ability, a

careful tactician rather than a great admiral.

The defeat of Graves and subsequent surrender of Cornwallis did not

end the naval operations in the western hemisphere. On the contrary,

one of the most interesting tactical feats and the most brilliant

victory of the whole war were yet to grace the English flag in the

West Indies; but with the events at Yorktown the patriotic interest

for Americans closes. Before quitting that struggle for independence,

it must again be affirmed that its successful ending, at least at so

early a date, was due to the control of the sea,--to sea power in the

hands of the French, and its improper distribution by the English

authorities. This assertion may be safely rested on the authority of

the one man who, above all others, thoroughly knew the resources of

the country, the temper of the people, the difficulties of the

struggle, and whose name is still the highest warrant for sound,

quiet, unfluttered good-sense and patriotism.

The keynote to all Washington's utterances is set in the "Memorandum

for concerting a plan of operations with the French army," dated July

15, 1780, and sent by the hands of Lafayette:--

"The Marquis de Lafayette will be pleased to communicate the

following general ideas to Count de Rochambeau and the Chevalier

de Ternay, as the sentiments of the underwritten:

"I. _In any operation, and under all circumstances, a decisive

naval superiority is to be considered as a fundamental

principle, and the basis upon which every hope of success must

ultimately depend._"

This, however, though the most formal and decisive expression of

Washington's views, is but one among many others equally distinct.

Thus, writing to Franklin, December 20, 1780, he says:--

"Disappointed of the second division of French troops [blockaded

in Brest], but more especially in the expected naval

superiority, which was the pivot upon which everything turned,

we have been compelled to spend an inactive campaign after a

flattering prospect at the opening of it.... Latterly we have

been obliged to become spectators of a succession of detachments

from the army at New York in aid of Lord Cornwallis; while our

naval weakness, and the political dissolution of a large part of

our army, put it out of our power to counteract them at the

southward, or to take advantage of them here."

A month later, January 15, 1781, in a memorandum letter to Colonel

Laurens, sent on a special mission to France, he says:--

"Next to a loan of money, a constant naval superiority upon

these coasts is the object most interesting. This would

instantly reduce the enemy to a difficult defensive.... Indeed,

it is not to be conceived how they could subsist a large force

in this country, if we had the command of the seas to interrupt

the regular transmission of supplies from Europe. This

superiority, with an aid in money, would enable us to convert

the war into a vigorous offensive. With respect to us it seems

to be one of two deciding points."

In another letter to the same person, then in Paris, dated April 9, he

writes:--

"If France delays a timely and powerful aid in the critical

posture of our affairs, it will avail us nothing, should she

attempt it hereafter.... Why need I run into detail, when it may

be declared in a word that we are at the end of our tether, and

that now or never our deliverance must come? How easy would it

be to retort the enemy's own game upon them, if it could be made

to comport with the general plan of the war to keep a superior

fleet always in these seas, and France would put us in condition

to be active by advancing us money."

Ships and money are the burden of his cry. May 23, 1781, he writes to

the Chevalier de la Luzerne: "I do not see how it is possible to give

effectual support to the Southern States, and avert the evils which

threaten, while we are inferior in naval force in these seas." As the

season for active operations advances, his utterances are more

frequent and urgent. To Major General Greene, struggling with his

difficulties in South Carolina, he writes, June 1, 1781: "Our affairs

have been attentively considered in every point of view, and it was

finally determined to make an attempt upon New York, in preference to

a Southern operation, as we had not decided command of the water." To

Jefferson, June 8: "Should I be supported in the manner I expect, by

the neighboring States, the enemy will, I hope, be reduced to the

necessity of recalling part of their force from the southward to

support New York, or they will run the most imminent risk of being

expelled from that post, which is to them invaluable; and should we,

by a lucky coincidence of circumstances, gain a naval superiority,

their ruin would be inevitable.... While we remain inferior at sea ...

policy dictates that relief should be attempted by diversion rather

than by sending reinforcements immediately to the point in distress,"

that is, to the South. To Rochambeau, June 13: "Your Excellency will

recollect that New York was looked upon by us as the only practicable

object under present circumstances; but should we be able to secure a

naval superiority, we may perhaps find others more practicable and

equally advisable." By the 15th of August the letters of De Grasse

announcing his sailing for the Chesapeake were received, and the

correspondence of Washington is thenceforth filled with busy

preparations for the campaign in Virginia, based upon the long-delayed

fleet. The discouragement of De Grasse, and his purpose to go to sea,

upon learning that the English fleet in New York had been reinforced,

drew forth an appealing letter dated September 25, which is too long

for quotation; but the danger passed, Washington's confidence returns.

The day after the capitulation he writes to De Grasse: "The surrender

of York ... _the honor of which belongs to your Excellency_, has

greatly anticipated [in time] our most sanguine anticipations." He

then goes on to urge further operations in the South, seeing so much

of the good season was still left: "The general naval superiority of

the British, previous to your arrival, gave them decisive advantages

in the South, in the rapid transport of their troops and supplies;

while the immense land marches of our succors, too tardy and expensive

in every point of view, subjected us to be beaten in detail. It will

depend upon your Excellency, therefore, to terminate the war." De

Grasse refusing this request, but intimating an intention to

co-operate in the next year's campaign, Washington instantly accepts:

"With your Excellency I need not insist upon the indispensable

necessity of a maritime force capable of giving you an absolute

ascendency in these seas.... You will have observed that, whatever

efforts are made by the land armies, the navy must have the casting

vote in the present contest." A fortnight later, November 15, he

writes to Lafayette, who is on the point of sailing for France:--

"As you expressed a desire to know my sentiments respecting the

operations of the next campaign, I will, without a tedious

display of reasoning, declare in one word that it must depend

absolutely upon the naval force which is employed in these seas,

and the time of its appearance next year. No land force can act

decisively unless accompanied by a maritime superiority.... A

doubt did not exist, nor does it at this moment, in any man's

mind, of the total extirpation of the British force in the

Carolinas and Georgia, if Count de Grasse could have extended

his co-operation two months longer."

Such, in the opinion of the revered commander-in-chief of the American

armies, was the influence of sea power upon the contest which he

directed with so much skill and such infinite patience, and which,

amidst countless trials and discouragements, he brought to a glorious

close.

It will be observed that the American cause was reduced to these

straits, notwithstanding the great and admitted losses of British

commerce by the cruisers of the allies and by American privateers.

This fact, and the small results from the general war, dominated as it

was by the idea of commerce-destroying, show strongly the secondary

and indecisive effect of such a policy upon the great issues of war.

FOOTNOTES:

[129] Martin: History of France.

[130] This delay was due to calms. Howe's Despatch, Gentleman's

Magazine, 1778.

[131] Most accounts say between Goat Island and Canonicut; but the

position given seems more probable. The names "Goat" and "Gould"

(often written "Gold") are easily confused. Since writing the above,

the author has been favored with the sight of a contemporary

manuscript map obtained in Paris, which shows the anchorage as near

Canonicut and abreast Coaster's Harbor Island; the latter being marked

"L'Isle d'Or ou Golde Isle." The sketch, while accurate in its main

details, seems the more authentic from its mistakes being such as a

foreigner, during a hurried and exciting stay of twenty-four hours,

might readily make.

[132] "The arrival of the French fleet upon the coast of America is a

great and striking event; but the operations of it have been injured by

a number of unforeseen and unfavorable circumstances, which, though

they ought not to detract from the merit and good intention of our

great ally, have nevertheless lessened the importance of its services

in a great degree. The length of the passage, in the first instance,

was a capital misfortune; for had even one of common length taken

place, Lord Howe, with the British ships-of-war and all the transports

in the river Delaware, must inevitably have fallen; and Sir Henry

Clinton must have had better luck than is commonly dispensed to men of

his profession under such circumstances, if he and his troops had not

shared at least the fate of Burgoyne. The long passage of Count

d'Estaing was succeeded by an unfavorable discovery at the Hook, which

hurt us in two respects,--first, in a defeat of the enterprise upon New

York and the shipping and troops at that place, and next in the delay

occasioned in ascertaining the depth of water over the bar which was

essential to their entrance into the harbor of New York. And, moreover,

after the enterprise upon Rhode Island had been planned and was in the

moment of execution, that Lord Howe with the British ships should

interpose merely to create a diversion and draw the French fleet from

the island was again unlucky, as the Count had not returned on the 17th

to the island, though drawn off from it on the 10th; by which means the

land operations were retarded, and the whole subjected to a miscarriage

in case of the arrival of Byron's squadron."--WASHINGTON'S Letter, Aug.

20, 1778.

[133] See page 426.

[134] D'Estaing's position at anchor is marked by the anchor in Plate

X.

[135] Of one of these, the "Monmouth," sixty-four (a'), it is said

that the officers of the French flag-ship drank to the health of the

captain of the "little black ship." Ships' names, like those of

families, often have a marked career. A former "Monmouth," twenty

years before, had attacked and taken, practically single-handed, the

"Foudroyant," eighty-four, one of the finest ships in the French navy.

She was then commanded by a Captain Gardiner, who, having commanded

Byng's ship in the battle which led to his execution, was moved by his

mortification at the result of that affair to dare such desperate

odds, and thereby lost his life. The same ship, here punished so

severely off Grenada, will be found in like sturdy fight, under

another captain, three years later in India.

[136] The line BC shows the final direction of the French

line-of-battle; the lee ship (o) having tacked and standing to o',

while the other ships took position in her wake. Though not expressly

stated, Byron doubtless formed in the same way on a parallel line.

Into this new line the disabled ships (c'), which could scarcely have

made good the course they were heading, would be easily received.

[137] Chevalier: Hist. de la Marine Française.

[138] Guérin: Hist. Maritime.

[139] Drinkwater, in his history of the siege of Gibraltar, explains

that the Spanish admiral believed that Rodney would not accompany the

convoy to the Straits, but had separated from it. He did not detect

his mistake until too late.

[140] The place where the battle was fought is shown by the crossed

flags.

[141] The black ships, in position A, represent the English ships

bearing down upon the French centre and rear. The line v r is the

line-of-battle from van to rear before bearing down. The positions v',

r', are those of the van and rear ships after hauling up on the port

tack, when the French wore.

[142] In a severe reprimand addressed to Captain Carkett, commanding

the leading ship of the English line, by Rodney, he says: "Your leading

in the manner you did, induced others to follow so bad an example; and

thereby, forgetting that the signal for the line was at only two

cables' length distance from each other, the van division was led by

you to _more than two leagues distance_ from the centre division, which

was thereby exposed to the greatest strength of the enemy and not

properly supported" (Life, vol. i. p. 351). By all rules of tactical

common-sense it would seem that the other ships should have taken their

distance from their next astern, that is, should have closed toward the

centre. In conversation with Sir Gilbert Blane, who was not in this

action, Rodney stated that the French line extended four leagues in

length, "as if De Guichen thought we meant to run away from him" (Naval

Chronicle, vol. xxv. p. 402).

[143] History of the American Revolution.

[144] For Rodney's reasons, see his Life, vol. i. pp. 365-376.

[145] At the eastern end of Long Island.

[146] The French ascribe this disadvantage to the fact that some of

their ships were not coppered.

[147] That the French government was not satisfied with M.

Destouches's action can be safely inferred from its delay to reward

the officers of the squadron, which called forth much feeling and very

lively remonstrances. The French asserted that Arbuthnot was hooted in

the streets of New York and recalled by his government. The latter is

a mistake, as he went home by his own request; but the former is

likely enough. Both commanders reversed in this case the usual naval

policy of their nations.

[148] Bancroft: History of the United States.

[149] Life of Rodney, vol. ii. p. 152; Clerk: Naval Tactics, p. 84.

[150] De Barras had been unwilling to go to the Chesapeake, fearing to

be intercepted by a superior force, and had only yielded to the

solicitation of Washington and Rochambeau.

[151] Naval Researches: Capt. Thomas White, R.N.

[152] White: Naval Researches.

[153] Bouclon: La Marine de Louis XVI., p. 281. Under a rather

misleading title this work is really a lengthy biography of Liberge de

Granchain, chief of staff to the French squadron under Ternay.

[154] Diary of a French officer, 1781; Magazine of American History

for March, 1880. The works at the time of Rodney's visit to New York

were doubtless less complete than in 1781. This authority, a year

later, gives the work on Rose Island twenty 36-pounders.

[155] Sir Thomas Graves, afterward second in command to Nelson in the

attack at Copenhagen in 1801,--an enterprise fully as desperate and

encompassed with greater difficulties of pilotage than the one here

advocated. See biographical memoir, Naval Chronicle, vol. viii.

[156] Rodney's Life, vol. i. p. 402.