The last-named people, indeed, exemplified once more the rule
that a military state expanding to the sea and absorbing older
maritime populations becomes a serious menace to its neighbours.
Even in the fifteenth century Mohammed II had made an attack on
Southern Italy; but his sea-power was not equal to the undertaking.
Suleymân the Magnificent directed the Ottoman forces towards
the West. With admirable strategic insight he conquered Rhodes,
and thus freed himself from the danger of a hostile force on
his flank. 'The centenary of the conquest of Constantinople was
past, and the Turk had developed a great naval power besides
annexing Egypt and Syria.'[33] The Turkish fleets, under such
leaders as Khair-ad-din (Barbarossa), Piale, and Dragut, seemed
to command the Mediterranean including its western basin; but the
repulse at Malta in 1565 was a serious check, and the defeat at
Lepanto in 1571 virtually put an end to the prospect of Turkish
maritime dominion. The predominance of Portugal in the Indian
Ocean in the early part of the sixteenth century had seriously
diminished the Ottoman resources. The wealth derived from the trade
in that ocean, the Persian Gulf, and the Red Sea, had supplied
the Mohammedans with the sinews of war, and had enabled them to
contend with success against the Christians in Europe. 'The main
artery had been cut when the Portuguese took up the challenge
of the Mohammedan merchants of Calicut, and swept their ships
from the ocean.'[34] The sea-power of Portugal wisely employed
had exercised a great, though unperceived, influence. Though
enfeebled and diminishing, the Turkish navy was still able to act
with some effect in the seventeenth century. Nevertheless, the
sea-power of the Turks ceased to count as a factor of importance
in the relations between great states.
[Footnote 33: Seeley, _British_Policy_, i. p. 143.]
[Footnote 34: Whiteway, p. 2.]
In the meantime the state which had a leading share in winning
the victory of Lepanto had been growing up in the West. Before
the union of its crown with that of Castile and the formation of
the Spanish monarchy, Aragon had been expanding till it reached
the sea. It was united with Catalonia in the twelfth century, and
it conquered Valencia in the thirteenth. Its long line of coast
opened the way to an extensive and flourishing commerce; and an
enterprising navy indemnified the nation for the scantiness of its
territory at home by the important foreign conquests of Sardinia,
Sicily, Naples, and the Balearic Isles. Amongst the maritime states
of the Mediterranean Catalonia had been conspicuous. She was to
the Iberian Peninsula much what Phoenicia had been to Syria. The
Catalan navy had disputed the empire of the Mediterranean with
the fleets of Pisa and Genoa. The incorporation of Catalonia
with Aragon added greatly to the strength of that kingdom. The
Aragonese kings were wise enough to understand and liberal enough
to foster the maritime interests of their new possessions.[35]
Their French and Italian neighbours were to feel, before long, the
effect of this policy; and when the Spanish monarchy had been
consolidated, it was felt not only by them, but by others also.
The more Spanish dominion was extended in Italy, the more were the
naval resources at the command of Spain augmented. Genoa became
'Spain's water-gate to Italy.... Henceforth the Spanish crown
found in the Dorias its admirals; their squadron was permanently
hired to the kings of Spain.' Spanish supremacy at sea was
established at the expense of France.[36] The acquisition of a
vast domain in the New World had greatly developed the maritime
activity of Castile, and Spain was as formidable on the ocean as
in the Mediterranean. After Portugal had been annexed the naval
vessels of that country were added to the Spanish, and the great
port of Lisbon became available as a place of equipment and as an
additional base of operations for oceanic campaigns. The fusion
of Spain and Portugal, says Seeley, 'produced a single state of
unlimited maritime dominion.... Henceforth the whole New World
belonged exclusively to Spain.' The story of the tremendous
catastrophe--the defeat of the Armada--by which the decline of
this dominion was heralded is well known. It is memorable, not
only because of the harm it did to Spain, but also because it
revealed the rise of another claimant to maritime pre-eminence--the
English nation. The effects of the catastrophe were not at once
visible. Spain still continued to look like the greatest power
in the world; and, though the English seamen were seen to be
something better than adventurous pirates--a character suggested
by some of their recent exploits--few could have comprehended
that they were engaged in building up what was to be a sea-power
greater than any known to history.
[Footnote 35: Prescott, _Ferdinand_and_Isabella_, Introd. sects.
i. ii.]
[Footnote 36: G. W. Prothero, in M. Hume's _Spain_, 1479-1788,
p. 65.]
They were carrying forward, not beginning the building of this.
'England,' says Sir J. K. Laughton, 'had always believed in her
naval power, had always claimed the sovereignty of the Narrow
Seas; and more than two hundred years before Elizabeth came to the
throne, Edward III had testified to his sense of its importance
by ordering a gold coinage bearing a device showing the armed
strength and sovereignty of England based on the sea.'[37] It is
impossible to make intelligible the course of the many wars which
the English waged with the French in the Middle Ages unless the
true naval position of the former is rightly appreciated. Why were
Crecy, Poitiers, Agincourt--not to mention other combats--fought,
not on English, but on continental soil? Why during the so-called
'Hundred Years' War' was England in reality the invader and not
the invaded? We of the present generation are at last aware of the
significance of naval defence, and know that, if properly utilised,
it is the best security against invasion that a sea-surrounded
state can enjoy. It is not, however, commonly remembered that
the same condition of security existed and was properly valued
in mediæval times. The battle of Sluys in 1340 rendered invasion
of England as impracticable as did that of La Hogue in 1692,
that of Quiberon Bay in 1759, and that of Trafalgar in 1805; and
it permitted, as did those battles, the transport of troops to
the continent to support our allies in wars which, had we not
been strong at sea, would have been waged on the soil of our own
country. Our early continental wars, therefore, are proofs of the
long-established efficiency of our naval defences. Notwithstanding
the greater attention paid, within the last dozen years or so,
to naval affairs, it is doubtful if the country generally even
yet recognises the extent to which its security depends upon a
good fleet as fully as our ancestors did nearly seven centuries
ago. The narrative of our pre-Elizabethan campaigns is interesting
merely as a story; and, when told--as for instance D. Hannay
has told it in the introductory chapters of his 'Short History
of the Royal Navy'--it will be found instructive and worthy of
careful study at the present day. Each of the principal events
in our early naval campaigns may be taken as an illustration of
the idea conveyed by the term 'sea-power,' and of the accuracy
with which its meaning was apprehended at the time. To take a
very early case, we may cite the defeat of Eustace the Monk by
Hubert de Burgh in 1217. Reinforcements and supplies had been
collected at Calais for conveyance to the army of Prince Louis
of France and the rebel barons who had been defeated at Lincoln.
The reinforcements tried to cross the Channel under the escort of
a fleet commanded by Eustace. Hubert de Burgh, who had stoutly
held Dover for King John, and was faithful to the young Henry
III, heard of the enemy's movements. 'If these people land,'
said he, 'England is lost; let us therefore boldly meet them.' He
reasoned in almost the same words as Raleigh about four centuries
afterwards, and undoubtedly 'had grasped the true principles of
the defence of England.' He put to sea and defeated his opponent.
The fleet on which Prince Louis and the rebellious barons had
counted was destroyed; and with it their enterprise. 'No more
admirably planned, no more fruitful battle has been fought by
Englishmen on water.'[38] As introductory to a long series of
naval operations undertaken with a like object, it has deserved
detailed mention here.
[Footnote 37: _Armada_, Introd. (Navy Records Society).]
[Footnote 38: Hannay, p. 7.]
The sixteenth century was marked by a decided advance in both
the development and the application of sea-power. Previously
its operation had been confined to the Mediterranean or to coast
waters outside it. Spanish or Basque seamen--by their proceedings
in the English Channel--had proved the practicability of, rather
than been engaged in, ocean warfare. The English, who withstood
them, were accustomed to seas so rough, to seasons so uncertain,
and to weather so boisterous, that the ocean had few terrors for
them. All that was wanting was a sufficient inducement to seek
distant fields of action and a development of the naval art that
would permit them to be reached. The discovery of the New World
supplied the first; the consequently increased length of voyages
and of absence from the coast led to the second. The world had
been moving onwards in other things as well as in navigation.
Intercommunication was becoming more and more frequent. What was
done by one people was soon known to others. It is a mistake to
suppose that, because the English had been behindhand in the
exploration of remote regions, they were wanting in maritime
enterprise. The career of the Cabots would of itself suffice to
render such a supposition doubtful. The English had two good
reasons for postponing voyages to and settlement in far-off lands.
They had their hands full nearer home; and they thoroughly, and as
it were by instinct, understood the conditions on which permanent
expansion must rest. They wanted to make sure of the line of
communication first. To effect this a sea-going marine of both
war and commerce and, for further expansion, stations on the
way were essential. The chart of the world furnishes evidence of
the wisdom and the thoroughness of their procedure. Taught by the
experience of the Spaniards and the Portuguese, when unimpeded by
the political circumstances of the time, and provided with suitable
equipment, the English displayed their energy in distant seas. It
now became simply a question of the efficiency of sea-power. If
this was not a quality of that of the English, then their efforts
were bound to fail; and, more than this, the position of their
country, challenging as it did what was believed to be the greatest
of maritime states, would have been altogether precarious. The
principal expeditions now undertaken were distinguished by a
characteristic peculiar to the people, and not to be found in
connection with the exploring or colonising activity of most
other great nations even down to our own time. They were really
unofficial speculations in which, if the Government took part at
all, it was for the sake of the profit expected and almost, if
not exactly, like any private adventurer. The participation of
the Government, nevertheless, had an aspect which it is worth
while to note. It conveyed a hint--and quite consciously--to all
whom it might concern that the speculations were 'under-written'
by the whole sea-power of England. The forces of more than one state
had been used to protect its maritime trade from the assaults of
enemies in the Mediterranean or in the Narrow Seas. They had
been used to ward off invasion and to keep open communications
across not very extensive areas of water. In the sixteenth century
they were first relied upon to support distant commerce, whether
carried on in a peaceful fashion or under aggressive forms. This,
naturally enough, led to collisions. The contention waxed hot,
and was virtually decided when the Armada shaped course to the
northward after the fight off Gravelines.
The expeditions against the Spanish Indies and, still more, those
against Philip II's peninsular territory, had helped to define
the limitations of sea-power. It became evident, and it was made
still more evident in the next century, that for a great country
to be strong it must not rely upon a navy alone. It must also have
an adequate and properly organised mobile army. Notwithstanding
the number of times that this lesson has been repeated, we have
been slow to learn it. It is doubtful if we have learned it even
yet. English seamen in all ages seem to have mastered it fully;
for they have always demanded--at any rate for upwards of three
centuries--that expeditions against foreign territory over-sea
should be accompanied by a proper number of land-troops. On the
other hand, the necessity of organising the army of a maritime
insular state, and of training it with the object of rendering
effective aid in operations of the kind in question, has rarely
been perceived and acted upon by others. The result has been a
long series of inglorious or disastrous affairs like the West
Indies voyage of 1595-96, the Cadiz expedition of 1625, and that
to the Ile de Ré of 1627. Additions might be made to the list.
The failures of joint expeditions have often been explained by
alleging differences or quarrels between the naval and the military
commanders. This way of explaining them, however, is nothing but
the inveterate critical method of the streets by which cause
is taken for effect and effect for cause. The differences and
quarrels arose, no doubt; but they generally sprang out of the
recriminations consequent on, not producing, the want of success.
Another manifestation of the way in which sea-power works was first
observed in the seventeenth century. It suggested the adoption
of, and furnished the instrument for carrying out a distinct
maritime policy. What was practically a standing navy had come
into existence. As regards England this phenomenon was now of
respectable age. Long voyages and cruises of several ships in
company had been frequent during the latter half of the sixteenth
century and the early part of the seventeenth. Even the grandfathers
of the men who sailed with Blake and Penn in 1652 could not have
known a time when ships had never crossed the ocean, and squadrons
kept together for months had never cruised. However imperfect
it may have been, a system of provisioning ships and supplying
them with stores, and of preserving discipline amongst their
crews, had been developed, and had proved fairly satisfactory.
The Parliament and the Protector in turn found it necessary to
keep a considerable number of ships in commission, and make them
cruise and operate in company. It was not till well on in the
reign of Queen Victoria that the man-of-war's man was finally
differentiated from the merchant seaman; but two centuries before
some of the distinctive marks of the former had already begun to
be noticeable. There were seamen in the time of the Commonwealth
who rarely, perhaps some who never, served afloat except in a
man-of-war. Some of the interesting naval families which were
settled at Portsmouth and the eastern ports, and which--from
father to son--helped to recruit the ranks of our bluejackets
till a date later than that of the launch of the first ironclad,
could carry back their professional genealogy to at least the
days of Charles II, when, in all probability, it did not first
start. Though landsmen continued even after the civil war to be
given naval appointments, and though a permanent corps, through
the ranks of which everyone must pass, had not been formally
established, a body of real naval officers--men who could handle
their ships, supervise the working of the armament, and exercise
military command--had been formed. A navy, accordingly, was now
a weapon of undoubted keenness, capable of very effective use
by anyone who knew how to wield it. Having tasted the sweets
of intercourse with the Indies, whether in the occupation of
Portugal or of Spain, both English and Dutch were desirous of
getting a larger share of them. English maritime commerce had
increased and needed naval protection. If England was to maintain
the international position to which, as no one denied, she was
entitled, that commerce must be permitted to expand. The minds
of men in western Europe, moreover, were set upon obtaining for
their country territories in the New World, the amenities of
which were now known. From the reign of James I the Dutch had
shown great jealousy of English maritime enterprise. Where it was
possible, as in the East Indian Archipelago, they had destroyed
it. Their naval resources were great enough to let them hold
English shipping at their mercy, unless a vigorous effort were
made to protect it. The Dutch conducted the carrying trade of
a great part of the world, and the monopoly of this they were
resolved to keep, while the English were resolved to share in
it. The exclusion of the English from every trade-route, except
such as ran by their own coast or crossed the Narrow Seas, seemed
a by no means impossible contingency. There seemed also to be
but one way of preventing it, viz. by war. The supposed
unfriendliness of the Dutch, or at least of an important party
amongst them, to the regicide Government in England helped to
force the conflict. The Navigation Act of 1651 was passed and
regarded as a covert declaration of hostilities. So the first
Dutch war began. It established our claim to compete for the
position of a great maritime commercial power.
The rise of the sea-power of the Dutch, and the magnitude which
it attained in a short time and in the most adverse circumstances,
have no parallel in history. The case of Athens was different,
because the Athenian power had not so much been unconsciously
developed out of a great maritime trade, as based on a military
marine deliberately and persistently fostered during many years.
Thirlwall believes that it was Solon who 'laid the foundations
of the Attic navy,'[39] a century before Salamis. The great
achievement of Themistocles was to convince his fellow-citizens
that their navy ought to be increased. Perhaps the nearest parallel
with the power of the Dutch was presented by that of Rhodes, which
rested largely on a carrying trade. The Rhodian undertakings,
however, were by comparison small and restricted in extent. Motley
declares of the Seven United Provinces that they 'commanded the
ocean,'[40] and that it would be difficult to exaggerate the
naval power of the young Commonwealth. Even in the days of Spain's
greatness English seamen positively declined to admit that she
was stronger than England on the sea; and the story of the Armada
justified their view. Our first two Dutch wars were, therefore,
contests between the two foremost naval states of the world for
what was primarily a maritime object. The identity of the cause
of the first and of the second war will be discerned by anyone
who compares what has been said about the circumstances leading
to the former, with Monk's remark as to the latter. He said that
the English wanted a larger share of the trade enjoyed by the
Dutch. It was quite in accordance with the spirit of the age
that the Dutch should try to prevent, by force, this want from
being satisfied. Anything like free and open competition was
repugnant to the general feeling. The high road to both individual
wealth and national prosperity was believed to lie in securing a
monopoly. Merchants or manufacturers who called for the abolition
of monopolies granted to particular courtiers and favourites had
not the smallest intention, on gaining their object, of throwing
open to the enterprise of all what had been monopolised. It was to
be kept for the exclusive benefit of some privileged or chartered
company. It was the same in greater affairs. As Mahan says, 'To
secure to one's own people a disproportionate share of the benefits
of sea commerce every effort was made to exclude others, either
by the peaceful legislative methods of monopoly or prohibitory
regulations, or, when these failed, by direct violence.' The
apparent wealth of Spain was believed to be due to the rigorous
manner in which foreigners were excluded from trading with the
Spanish over-sea territories. The skill and enterprise of the
Dutch having enabled them to force themselves into this trade,
they were determined to keep it to themselves. The Dutch East India
Company was a powerful body, and largely dictated the maritime
policy of the country. We have thus come to an interesting point
in the historical consideration of sea-power. The Elizabethan
conflict with Spain had practically settled the question whether
or not the expanding nations were to be allowed to extend their
activities to territories in the New World. The first two Dutch
wars were to settle the question whether or not the ocean trade
of the world was to be open to any people qualified to engage
in it. We can see how largely these were maritime questions,
how much depended on the solution found for them, and how plain
it was that they must be settled by naval means.
[Footnote 39: _Hist._Greece_, ii. p. 52.]
[Footnote 40: _United_Netherlands_, ii. p. 132.]
Mahan's great survey of sea-power opens in 1660, midway between
the first and second Dutch wars. 'The sailing-ship era, with its
distinctive features,' he tells us, 'had fairly begun.' The art
of war by sea, in its more important details, had been settled
by the first war. From the beginning of the second the general
features of ship design, the classification of ships, the armament
of ships, and the handling of fleets, were to remain without
essential alteration until the date of Navarino. Even the tactical
methods, except where improved on occasions by individual genius,
altered little. The great thing was to bring the whole broadside
force to bear on an enemy. Whether this was to be impartially
distributed throughout the hostile line or concentrated on one
part of it depended on the character of particular admirals.
It would have been strange if a period so long and so rich in
incidents had afforded no materials for forming a judgment on
the real significance of sea-power. The text, so to speak, chosen
by Mahan is that, notwithstanding the changes wrought in naval
_matériel_ during the last half-century, we can find in the history
of the past instructive illustrations of the general principles
of maritime war. These illustrations will prove of value not
only 'in those wider operations which embrace a whole theatre of
war,' but also, if rightly applied, 'in the tactical use of the
ships and weapons' of our own day. By a remarkable coincidence
the same doctrine was being preached at the same time and quite
independently by the late Vice-Admiral Philip Colomb in his work
on 'Naval Warfare.' As a prelude to the second Dutch war we find
a repetition of a process which had been adopted somewhat earlier.
That was the permanent conquest of trans-oceanic territory. Until
the seventeenth century had well begun, naval, or combined naval
and military, operations against the distant possessions of an
enemy had been practically restricted to raiding or plundering
attacks on commercial centres. The Portuguese territory in South
America having come under Spanish dominion in consequence of the
annexation of Portugal to Spain, the Dutch--as the power of the
latter country declined--attempted to reduce part of that territory
into permanent possession. This improvement on the practice of
Drake and others was soon seen to be a game at which more than
one could play. An expedition sent by Cromwell to the West Indies
seized the Spanish island of Jamaica, which has remained in the
hands of its conquerors to this day. In 1664 an English force
occupied the Dutch North American settlements on the Hudson. Though
the dispossessed rulers were not quite in a position to throw stones
at sinners, this was rather a raid than an operation of recognised
warfare, because it preceded the formal outbreak of hostilities.
The conquered territory remained in English hands for more than
a century, and thus testified to the efficacy of a sea-power
which Europe had scarcely begun to recognise. Neither the second
nor the third Dutch war can be counted amongst the occurrences to
which Englishmen may look back with unalloyed satisfaction; but
they, unquestionably, disclosed some interesting manifestations
of sea-power. Much indignation has been expressed concerning the
corruption and inefficiency of the English Government of the
day, and its failure to take proper measures for keeping up the
navy as it should have been kept up. Some, perhaps a good deal, of
this indignation was deserved; but it would have been nearly as
well deserved by every other government of the day. Even in those
homes of political virtue where the administrative machinery was
worked by or in the interest of speculating capitalists and
privileged companies, the accumulating evidence of late years
has proved that everything was not considered to be, and as a
matter of fact was not, exactly as it ought to have been. Charles
II and his brother, the Duke of York, have been held up to obloquy
because they thought that the coast of England could be defended
against a naval enemy better by fortifications than by a good
fleet and, as Pepys noted, were 'not ashamed of it.' The truth
is that neither the king nor the duke believed in the power of
a navy to ward off attack from an island. This may have been
due to want of intellectual capacity; but it would be going a
long way to put it down to personal wickedness. They have had
many imitators, some in our own day. The huge forts which stud
the coast of the United Kingdom, and have been erected within
the memory of the present generation, are monuments, likely to
last for many years, of the inability of people, whom no one
could accuse of being vicious, to rate sea-power at its proper
value. It is much more likely that it was owing to a reluctance
to study questions of naval defence as industriously as they
deserved, and to that moral timidity which so often tempts even
men of proved physical courage to undertake the impossible task
of making themselves absolutely safe against hostile efforts
at every point.
Charles II has also been charged with indifference to the interests
of his country, or worse, because during a great naval war he
adopted the plan of trying to weaken the enemy by destroying
his commerce. The king 'took a fatal resolution of laying up
his great ships and keeping only a few frigates on the cruise.'
It is expressly related that this was not Charles's own idea,
but that it was urged upon him by advisers whose opinion probably
seemed at the time as well worth listening to as that of others.
Anyhow, if the king erred, as he undoubtedly did, he erred in
good company. Fourteen hundred years earlier the statesmen who
conducted the great war against Carthage, and whose astuteness
has been the theme of innumerable panegyrics since, took the same
'fatal resolution.' In the midst of the great struggle they 'did
away with the fleet. At the most they encouraged privateering; and
with that view placed the war-vessels of the State at the disposal
of captains who were ready to undertake a corsair warfare on
their own account.'[41] In much later times this method has had
many and respectable defenders. Mahan's works are, in a sense, a
formal warning to his fellow-citizens not to adopt it. In France,
within the last years of the nineteenth century, it found, and
appears still to find, adherents enough to form a school. The
reappearance of belief in demonstrated impossibilities is a
recognised incident in human history; but it is usually confined
to the emotional or the vulgar. It is serious and filled with
menaces of disaster when it is held by men thought fit to administer
the affairs of a nation or advise concerning its defence. The
third Dutch war may not have settled directly the position of
England in the maritime world; but it helped to place that country
above all other maritime states,--in the position, in fact, which
Great Britain, the United Kingdom, the British Empire, whichever
name may be given it, has retained up to the present. It also
manifested in a very striking form the efficacy of sea-power.
The United Provinces, though attacked by two of the greatest
monarchies in the world, France and England, were not destroyed.
Indeed, they preserved much of their political importance in
the State system of Europe. The Republic 'owed this astonishing
result partly to the skill of one or two men, but mainly to its
sea-power.' The effort, however, had undermined its strength
and helped forward its decline.
[Footnote 41: Mommsen, ii. p. 52.]
The war which was ended by the Peace of Ryswick in 1697 presents
two features of exceptional interest: one was the havoc wrought on
English commerce by the enemy; the other was Torrington's conduct
at and after the engagement off Beachy Head. Mahan discusses
the former with his usual lucidity. At no time has war against
commerce been conducted on a larger scale and with greater results
than during this period. We suffered 'infinitely more than in
any former war.' Many of our merchants were ruined; and it is
affirmed that the English shipping was reduced to the necessity
of sailing under the Swedish and Danish flags. The explanation is
that Louis XIV made great efforts to keep up powerful fleets. Our
navy was so fully occupied in watching these that no ships could
be spared to protect our maritime trade. This is only another way
of saying that our commerce had increased so largely that the
navy was not strong enough to look after it as well as oppose
the enemy's main force. Notwithstanding our losses we were on
the winning side in the conflict. Much misery and ruin had been
caused, but not enough to affect the issue of the war.
Torrington's proceedings in July 1690 were at the time the subject
of much angry debate. The debate, still meriting the epithet
angry, has been renewed within the last few years. The matter
has to be noticed here, because it involves the consideration of
a question of naval strategy which must be understood by those
who wish to know the real meaning of the term sea-power, and who
ought to learn that it is not a thing to be idly risked or thrown
away at the bidding of the ignorant and the irresponsible. Arthur
Herbert, Earl of Torrington--the later peerage is a viscounty held
by the Byng family--was in command of the allied English and Dutch
fleet in the Channel. 'The disparity of force,' says Mahan, 'was
still in favour of France in 1690, but it was not so great as
the year before.' We can measure the ability of the then English
Government for conducting a great war, when we know that, in its
wisdom, it had still further weakened our fleet by dividing it
(Vice-Admiral Killigrew having been sent to the Mediterranean with
a squadron), and had neglected, and indeed refused when urged, to
take the necessary steps to repair this error. The Government
having omitted, as even British Governments sometimes do, to
gain any trustworthy intelligence of the strength or movements
of the enemy, Torrington suddenly found himself confronted by a
considerably superior French fleet under Tourville, one of the
greatest of French sea-officers. Of late years the intentions of
the French have been questioned; but it is beyond dispute that
in England at the time Tourville's movements were believed to
be preliminary to invasion. Whether Tourville deliberately meant
his movement to cover an invasion or not, invasion would almost
certainly have followed complete success on his part; otherwise his
victory would have been without any valuable result. Torrington
saw that as long as he could keep his own fleet intact, he could,
though much weaker than his opponent, prevent him from doing
serious harm. Though personally not a believer in the imminence of
invasion, the English admiral knew that 'most men were in fear that
the French would invade.' His own view was, 'that whilst we had a
fleet in being they would not dare to make an attempt.' Of late
years controversy has raged round this phrase, 'a fleet in being,'
and the strategic principle which it expresses. Most seamen were
at the time, have been since, and still are in agreement with
Torrington. This might be supposed enough to settle the question.
It has not been allowed, however, to remain one of purely naval
strategy. It was made at the time a matter of party politics.
This is why it is so necessary that in a notice of sea-power it
should be discussed. Both as a strategist and as a tactician
Torrington was immeasurably ahead of his contemporaries. The
only English admirals who can be placed above him are Hawke and
Nelson. He paid the penalty of his pre-eminence: he could not
make ignorant men and dull men see the meaning or the advantages
of his proceedings. Mahan, who is specially qualified to do him
full justice, does not devote much space in his work to a
consideration of Torrington's case, evidently because he had
no sufficient materials before him on which to form a judgment.
The admiral's character had been taken away already by Macaulay,
who did have ample evidence before him. William III, with all his
fine qualities, did not possess a military genius quite equal
to that of Napoleon; and Napoleon, in naval strategy, was often
wrong. William III understood that subject even less than the
French emperor did; and his favourites were still less capable
of understanding it. Consequently Torrington's action has been
put down to jealousy of the Dutch. There have been people who
accused Nelson of being jealous of the naval reputation of
Caracciolo! The explanation of Torrington's conduct is this:--
He had a fleet so much weaker than Tourville's that he could
not fight a general action with the latter without a practical
certainty of getting a crushing defeat. Such a result would have
laid the kingdom open: a defeat of the allied fleet, says Mahan,
'if sufficiently severe, might involve the fall of William's
throne in England.' Given certain movements of the French fleet,
Torrington might have manoeuvred to slip past it to the westward
and join his force with that under Killigrew, which would make
him strong enough to hazard a battle. This proved impracticable.
There was then one course left. To retire before the French,
but not to keep far from them. He knew that, though not strong
enough to engage their whole otherwise unemployed fleet with any
hope of success, he would be quite strong enough to fight and
most likely beat it, when a part of it was trying either to deal
with our ships to the westward or to cover the disembarkation of
an invading army. He, therefore, proposed to keep his fleet 'in
being' in order to fall on the enemy when the latter would have
two affairs at the same time on his hands. The late Vice-Admiral
Colomb rose to a greater height than was usual even with him in
his criticism of this campaign. What Torrington did was merely
to reproduce on the sea what has been noticed dozens of times on
shore, viz. the menace by the flanking enemy. In land warfare
this is held to give exceptional opportunities for the display of
good generalship, but, to quote Mahan over again, a navy 'acts
on an element strange to most writers, its members have been
from time immemorial a strange race apart, without prophets of
their own, neither themselves nor their calling understood.'
Whilst Torrington has had the support of seamen, his opponents
have been landsmen. For the crime of being a good strategist he
was brought before a court-martial, but acquitted. His sovereign,
who had been given the crowns of three kingdoms to defend our laws,
showed his respect for them by flouting a legally constituted
tribunal and disregarding its solemn finding. The admiral who
had saved his country was forced into retirement. Still, the
principle of the 'fleet in being' lies at the bottom of all sound
strategy.
Admiral Colomb has pointed out a great change of plan in the
later naval campaigns of the seventeenth century. Improvements
in naval architecture, in the methods of preserving food, and
in the arrangements for keeping the crews healthy, permitted
fleets to be employed at a distance from their home ports for
long continuous periods. The Dutch, when allies of the Spaniards,
kept a fleet in the Mediterranean for many months. The great De
Ruyter was mortally wounded in one of the battles there fought.
In the war of the Spanish Succession the Anglo-Dutch fleet found
its principal scene of action eastward of Gibraltar. This, as
it were, set the fashion for future wars. It became a kind of
tacitly accepted rule that the operation of British sea-power
was to be felt in the enemy's rather than in our own waters. The
hostile coast was regarded strategically as the British frontier,
and the sea was looked upon as territory which the enemy must
be prevented from invading. Acceptance of this principle led
in time to the so-called 'blockades' of Brest and Toulon. The
name was misleading. As Nelson took care to explain, there was
no desire to keep the enemy's fleet in; what was desired was to
be near enough to attack it if it came out. The wisdom of the
plan is undoubted. The hostile navy could be more easily watched
and more easily followed if it put to sea. To carry out this
plan a navy stronger in number of ships or in general efficiency
than that of the enemy was necessary to us. With the exception
of that of American Independence, which will therefore require
special notice, our subsequent great wars were conducted in
accordance with the rule.
SEA-POWER IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY AND EARLY PART OF THE NINETEENTH
CENTURY
In the early part of the eighteenth century there was a remarkable
manifestation of sea-power in the Baltic. Peter the Great, having
created an efficient army, drove the Swedes from the coast provinces
south of the Gulf of Finland. Like the earlier monarchies of which
we have spoken, Russia, in the Baltic at least, now became a naval
state. A large fleet was built, and, indeed, a considerable navy
established. It was a purely artificial creation, and showed
the merits and defects of its character. At first, and when under
the eye of its creator, it was strong; when Peter was no more it
dwindled away and, when needed again, had to be created afresh.
It enabled Peter the Great to conquer the neighbouring portion
of Finland, to secure his coast territories, and to dominate
the Baltic. In this he was assisted by the exhaustion of Sweden
consequent on her endeavours to retain, what was no longer possible,
the position of a _quasi_ great power which she had held since
the days of Gustavus Adolphus. Sweden had been further weakened,
especially as a naval state, by almost incessant wars with Denmark,
which prevented all hope of Scandinavian predominance in the
Baltic, the control of which sea has in our own days passed into
the hands of another state possessing a quickly created navy--the
modern German empire.
The war of the Spanish Succession left Great Britain a Mediterranean
power, a position which, in spite of twice losing Minorca, she
still holds. In the war of the Austrian Succession, 'France was
forced to give up her conquests for want of a navy, and England
saved her position by her sea-power, though she had failed to
use it to the best advantage.'[42] This shows, as we shall find
that a later war showed more plainly, that even the Government
of a thoroughly maritime country is not always sure of conducting
its naval affairs wisely. The Seven Years' war included some
brilliant displays of the efficacy of sea-power. It was this
which put the British in possession of Canada, decided which
European race was to rule in India, and led to a British occupation
of Havannah in one hemisphere and of Manila in the other. In
the same war we learned how, by a feeble use of sea-power, a
valuable possession like Minorca may be lost. At the same time
our maritime trade and the general prosperity of the kingdom
increased enormously. The result of the conflict made plain to
all the paramount importance of having in the principal posts
in the Government men capable of understanding what war is and
how it ought to be conducted.
[Footnote 42: Mahan, _Inf._on_Hist._ p. 280.]
This lesson, as the sequel demonstrated, had not been learned
when Great Britain became involved in a war with the insurgent
colonies in North America. Mahan's comment is striking: 'The
magnificence of sea-power and its value had perhaps been more
clearly shown by the uncontrolled sway and consequent exaltation
of one belligerent; but the lesson thus given, if more striking,
is less vividly interesting than the spectacle of that sea-power
meeting a foe worthy of its steel, and excited to exertion by a
strife which endangered not only its most valuable colonies, but
even its own shores.'[43] We were, in fact, drawing too largely
on the _prestige_ acquired during the Seven Years' war; and we
were governed by men who did not understand the first principles
of naval warfare, and would not listen to those who did. They
quite ignored the teaching of the then comparatively recent wars
which has been alluded to already--that we should look upon the
enemy's coast as our frontier. A century and a half earlier the
Dutchman Grotius had written--
Quæ meta Britannis
Litora sunt aliis.
[Footnote 43: _Influence_on_Hist._ p. 338.]
Though ordinary prudence would have suggested ample preparation,
British ministers allowed their country to remain unprepared.
Instead of concentrating their efforts on the main objective,
they frittered away force in attempts to relieve two beleaguered
garrisons under the pretext of yielding to popular pressure, which
is the official term for acting on the advice of irresponsible
and uninstructed busybodies. 'Depuis le début de la crise,' says
Captain Chevalier, 'les ministres de la Grande Bretagne s'étaient
montrés inférieurs à leur tâche.' An impressive result of this was
the repeated appearance of powerful and indeed numerically superior
hostile fleets in the English Channel. The war--notwithstanding
that, perhaps because, land operations constituted an important
part of it, and in the end settled the issue--was essentially
oceanic. Captain Mahan says it was 'purely maritime.' It may
be true that, whatever the belligerent result, the political
result, as regards the _status_ of the insurgent colonies, would
have been the same. It is in the highest degree probable, indeed
it closely approaches to certainty, that a proper use of the
British sea-power would have prevented independence from being
conquered, as it were, at the point of the bayonet. There can be no
surprise in store for the student acquainted with the vagaries of
strategists who are influenced in war by political in preference
to military requirements. Still, it is difficult to repress an
emotion of astonishment on finding that a British Government
intentionally permitted De Grasse's fleet and the French army
in its convoy to cross the Atlantic unmolested, for fear of
postponing for a time the revictualling of the garrison beleaguered
at Gibraltar. Washington's opinion as to the importance of the
naval factor has been quoted already; and Mahan does not put
the case too strongly when he declares that the success of the
Americans was due to 'sea-power being in the hands of the French
and its improper distribution by the English authorities.' Our
navy, misdirected as it was, made a good fight of it, never allowed
itself to be decisively beaten in a considerable battle, and won
at least one great victory. At the point of contact with the
enemy, however, it was not in general so conspicuously successful
as it was in the Seven Years' war, or as it was to be in the
great conflict with the French republic and empire. The truth
is that its opponent, the French navy, was never so thoroughly
a sea-going force as it was in the war of American Independence;
and never so closely approached our own in real sea-experience
as it did during that period. We met antagonists who were very
nearly, but, fortunately for us, not quite as familiar with the
sea as we were ourselves; and we never found it so hard to beat
them, or even to avoid being beaten by them. An Englishman would,
naturally enough, start at the conclusion confronting him, if he
were to speculate as to the result of more than one battle had
the great Suffren's captains and crews been quite up to the level
of those commanded by stout old Sir Edward Hughes. Suffren, it
should be said, before going to the East Indies, had 'thirty-eight
years of almost uninterrupted sea-service.'[44] A glance at a
chart of the world, with the scenes of the general actions of
the war dotted on it, will show how notably oceanic the campaigns
were. The hostile fleets met over and over again on the far side
of the Atlantic and in distant Indian seas. The French navy had
penetrated into the ocean as readily and as far as we could do
ourselves. Besides this, it should be remembered that it was
not until the 12th April 1782. when Rodney in one hemisphere and
Suffren in the other showed them the way, that our officers were
able to escape from the fetters imposed on them by the _Fighting_
_Instructions_,--a fact worth remembering in days in which it is
sometimes proposed, by establishing schools of naval tactics
on shore, to revive the pedantry which made a decisive success
in battle nearly impossible.
[Footnote 44: Laughton, _Studies_in_Naval_Hist._ p. 103.]
The mighty conflict which raged between Great Britain on one side
and France and her allies on the other, with little intermission,
for more than twenty years, presents a different aspect from that
of the war last mentioned. The victories which the British fleet
was to gain were generally to be overwhelming; if not, they were
looked upon as almost defeats. Whether the fleet opposed to ours
was, or was not, the more numerous, the result was generally the
same--our enemy was beaten. That there was a reason for this which
can be discovered is certain. A great deal has been made of the
disorganisation in the French navy consequent on the confusion of
the Revolution. That there was disorganisation is undoubted; that
it did impair discipline and, consequently, general efficiency will
not be disputed; but that it was considerable enough to account by
itself for the French naval defeats is altogether inadmissible.
Revolutionary disorder had invaded the land-forces to a greater
degree than it had invaded the sea-forces. The supersession,
flight, or guillotining of army officers had been beyond measure
more frequent than was the case with the naval officers. In spite
of all this the French armies were on the whole--even in the
early days of the Revolution--extraordinarily successful. In
1792 'the most formidable invasion that ever threatened France,'
as Alison calls it, was repelled, though the invaders were the
highly disciplined and veteran armies of Prussia and Austria.
It was nearly two years later that the French and English fleets
came into serious conflict. The first great battle, which we
call 'The Glorious First of June,' though a tactical victory
for us, was a strategical defeat. Villaret-Joyeuse manoeuvred so
as to cover the arrival in France of a fleet of merchant vessels
carrying sorely needed supplies of food, and in this he was
completely successful. His plan involved the probability, almost
the necessity, of fighting a general action which he was not at
all sure of winning. He was beaten, it is true; but the French
made so good a fight of it that their defeat was not nearly so
disastrous as the later defeats of the Nile or Trafalgar, and--at
the most--not more disastrous than that of Dominica. Yet no one
even alleges that there was disorder or disorganisation in the
French fleet at the date of anyone of those affairs. Indeed,
if the French navy was really disorganised in 1794, it would
have been better for France--judging from the events of 1798 and
1805--if the disorganisation had been allowed to continue. In
point of organisation the British Navy was inferior, and in point
of discipline not much superior to the French at the earliest
date; at the later dates, and especially at the latest, owing
to the all-pervading energy of Napoleon, the British was far
behind its rival in organisation, in 'science,' and in every
branch of training that can be imparted without going to sea.
We had the immense advantage of counting amongst our officers
some very able men. Nelson, of course, stands so high that he
holds a place entirely by himself. The other British chiefs,
good as they were, were not conspicuously superior to the Hawkes
and Rodneys of an earlier day. Howe was a great commander, but
he did little more than just appear on the scene in the war.
Almost the same may be said of Hood, of whom Nelson wrote, 'He
is the greatest sea-officer I ever knew.'[45] There must have
been something, therefore, beyond the meritorious qualities of
our principal officers which helped us so consistently to victory.
The many triumphs won could not have been due in every case to
the individual superiority of the British admiral or captain to
his opponent. There must have been bad as well as good amongst
the hundreds on our lists; and we cannot suppose that Providence
had so arranged it that in every action in which a British officer
of inferior ability commanded a still inferior French commander
was opposed to him. The explanation of our nearly unbroken success
is, that the British was a thoroughly sea-going navy, and became
more and more so every month; whilst the French, since the close
of the American war, had lost to a great extent its sea-going
character and, because we shut it up in its ports, became less
and less sea-going as hostilities continued. The war had been
for us, in the words of Mr. Theodore Roosevelt, 'a continuous
course of victory won mainly by seamanship.' Our navy, as regards
sea-experience, especially of the officers, was immensely superior
to the French. This enabled the British Government to carry into
execution sound strategic plans, in accordance with which the coasts
of France and its dependent or allied countries were regarded as
the English frontier to be watched or patrolled by our fleets.
[Footnote 45: Laughton, _Nelson's_Lett._and_Desp._ p. 71.]
Before the long European war had been brought to a formal ending
we received some rude rebuffs from another opponent of unsuspected
vigour. In the quarrel with the United States, the so-called
'War of 1812,' the great sea-power of the British in the end
asserted its influence, and our antagonists suffered much more
severely, even absolutely, than ourselves. At the same time we
might have learned, for the Americans did their best to teach us,
that over-confidence in numerical strength and narrow professional
self-satisfaction are nearly sure to lead to reverses in war, and
not unlikely to end in grave disasters. We had now to meet the
_élite_ of one of the finest communities of seamen ever known.
Even in 1776 the Americans had a great maritime commerce, which,
as Mahan informs us, 'had come to be the wonder of the statesmen
of the mother country.' In the six-and-thirty years which had
elapsed since then this commerce had further increased. There
was no finer nursery of seamen than the then states of the American
Union. Roosevelt says that 'there was no better seaman in the
world' than the American, who 'had been bred to his work from
infancy.' A large proportion of the population 'was engaged in
sea-going pursuits of a nature strongly tending to develop a
resolute and hardy character in the men that followed them.'[46]
Having little or no naval protection, the American seaman had
to defend himself in many circumstances, and was compelled to
familiarise himself with the use of arms. The men who passed
through this practical, and therefore supremely excellent, training
school were numerous. Very many had been trained in English
men-of-war, and some in French ships. The state navy which they
were called on to man was small; and therefore its _personnel_,
though without any regular or avowed selection, was virtually
and in the highest sense a picked body. The lesson of the war
of 1812 should be learned by Englishmen of the present day, when
a long naval peace has generated a confidence in numerical
superiority, in the mere possession of heavier _matériel_, and
in the merits of a rigidly uniform system of training, which
confidence, as experience has shown, is too often the forerunner
of misfortune. It is neither patriotic nor intelligent to minimise
the American successes. Certainly they have been exaggerated by
Americans and even by ourselves. To take the frigate actions
alone, as being those which properly attracted most attention,
we see that the captures in action amounted to three on each
side, the proportionate loss to our opponents, considering the
smallness of their fleet, being immensely greater than ours.
We also see that no British frigate was taken after the first
seven months of a war which lasted two and a half years, and that
no British frigate succumbed except to admittedly superior force.
Attempts have been made to spread a belief that our reverses
were due to nothing but the greater size and heavier guns of our
enemy's ships. It is now established that the superiority in
these details, which the Americans certainly enjoyed, was not
great, and not of itself enough to account for their victories.
Of course, if superiority in mere _matériel_, beyond a certain
well-understood amount, is possessed by one of two combatants,
his antagonist can hardly escape defeat; but it was never alleged
that size of ship or calibre of guns--greater within reasonable
limits than we had--necessarily led to the defeat of British
ships by the French or Spaniards. In the words of Admiral Jurien
de la Gravière, 'The ships of the United States constantly fought
with the chances in their favour.' All this is indisputable.
Nevertheless we ought to see to it that in any future war our
sea-power, great as it may be, does not receive shocks like those
that it unquestionably did receive in 1812.
[Footnote 46: _Naval_War_of_1812_, 3rd ed. pp. 29, 30.]