French proposed to hold the Channel in superior force to cover the
landing of troops in England, and then, by a blockade in the Irish
Channel, prevent the return of King William and his army. The attitude
of the English fleet was uncertain--a strong Jacobite element being in
it--and the scheme was generally a very promising one for the French.
A personal appeal from Queen Mary is said to have secured the
allegiance of the English fleet: but in everything else the subsequent
French failure was due only to luck and the wisdom of the British
Admiral, Lord Torrington.
It was more or less realised that the French would concentrate at
Brest. Squadrons were sent out to interfere with this, but convoys
and the like bulked largely in their orders. There is not the remotest
indication that the Home Government appreciated the danger, which ended
in Torrington finding himself opposed by a greatly superior French
fleet, which he was ordered to fight at all costs.
Therefrom ensued the battle of Beachy Head, a defeat and a “strategical
retirement to the rear” for which Torrington was subsequently
court-martialled and acquitted. He alone appears to have realised that
his defeat would have meant the success of the French plans, while
so long as he could avoid action the threat of his existence must
interfere with invasion.
The French movements throughout were somewhat obscure. On the 25th
June, according to Torrington, they might have attacked him but did not
do so. When the battle took place on the 30th, it was Torrington who
attacked. In the subsequent retreat, the French pursued for four days,
but did so in line of battle and without much energy. They captured or
destroyed five disabled ships, but of real following up of the victory
there was none.
The Anglo-Dutch fleet took shelter at the Nore; but the French drew off
at Dover, and sailing west attacked Teignmouth and then returned to
Brest. Their failure to follow up and destroy Torrington has never been
satisfactorily explained.
The panic which they had created in England bore early fruit. Thirty
new ships were laid down. Of these seventeen were eighty-gun ships of
1000 tons, three were 1050 tons but carried seventy guns only, the
remaining ten, sixty-gun ships of 900 tons.
In 1692 another Jacobite rising was planned, and a French army
collected to assist it. Taught by the experience of Beachy Head the
Anglo-Dutch fleet concentrated early. It consisted of no less than
ninety-eight ships of the line,[18] besides frigates and auxiliaries,
the whole being under command of Russell. A descent upon St. Malo was
the principal objective contemplated.
Neither side appears to have had much conception of the intentions of
the other. De Tourville, with a fleet of only fifty ships of the line,
is supposed to have sailed under the impression that the Dutch had not
joined up with the English.
In the fog of early morning on May 19th, he blundered into the entire
Anglo-Dutch fleet off Cape La Hogue, and sustained a crushing defeat.
At least twenty-one French ships of the line were lost in the battle
itself or destroyed in the harbours they had escaped into.
Following upon this victory came a lull in operations. It would seem to
have been the English idea that the French fleet, having been beaten
and dispersed, all that remained to do was to get ready to defeat
the new fleet that France was preparing, and so the year 1693 passed
uneventfully, except that damage was done to trade on either side.
In July, 1694, the Allies made a move, bombarding Dieppe and Havre
from a squadron of bombs which had been specially prepared. In
September, Dunkirk received attention from a new war device called
“smoak-boats”[19] the invention of one Meerlers, which did not
inconvenience anyone very much. Meerlers also had “machine ships,”
which likewise did no harm. These appear to have been an elementary
idea on large scale of the modern torpedo--improved fire-ships.
A fleet was generally busy defending trade in the Mediterranean, where
for the first time it was permanently stationed. Nothing in the way of
fleet action was attempted by the French, and the next few years were
spent in privateering on their part, and bombardments of ports which
sheltered privateers on the part of the Allies.
English naval estimates in 1695 amounted to £2,382,172, and the House
of Lords, in an address to the King, advocated an increase of the fleet
on the grounds that it was essential to the nation that its fleets
should always be superior to any possible enemy. A French invasion was
projected in the winter months; but abandoned on the appearance of a
fleet under Russell.
There is no question that in this war the French did more mischief
with their privateers than with their fleet. English trade suffered
very heavily; and there were continual complaints about the inability
of the fleet to suppress the corsairs, a Parliamentary enquiry being
eventually made into the matter.
The French privateers--“corsairs” is the more correct term--were in
substance a species of naval militia, of a quite different status
from English privateers sailing under letters of marque. They hailed
principally from St. Malo; trading in peace time and preying on
commerce in time of war. There were special regulations under which
they were governed. The owner had to deposit a sum of about £600 with
the Admiralty as security. He had to pay ten per cent. of the profits
to the Admiralty and five per cent. to the Church. Two-thirds of the
balance was his profit, the remaining third went to the crew. Often
enough the privateer was a royal ship, let out for the purpose, and in
the years following the battle of Cape La Hogue, most of the French
frigates were on this service, with naval officers and men on board
very often.
The privateers carried few guns, their object being to capture prizes,
not to sink them. They sailed mostly in small squadrons, so making
a considerable number of guns, and were rarely particular about
using false colours. It was therefore comparatively easy for them
successfully to attack weak convoys: some dealing with the warships and
others making prizes; and the inefficiency laid to the blame of the
English fleet in trade protection at that period was, in some measure,
at any rate, due to a failure to appreciate the enormous difficulties.
Duguay-Trouin himself records using the English flag to approach an
English warship, and firing on her under these colours.
The unhandy warships of those days, faced with light enemies, which
they could never overhaul, had a tremendous task set them. That the
Navy of William III era successfully defended anything against men
like Duguay-Trouin and Jean Bart, is of far more moment and more to
be wondered at than any failures. In this particular war the fast
lightly-armed corsair reached its apotheosis at the hands of veritable
experts to a degree impossible to-day, or for that matter, ever
hereafter, unless aircraft prove able to act as “privateers” of the
future--a role which, to date, has been entirely forgotten in all
discussions as to the value of aircraft.
[Illustration: ANTHONY DEANE.]
In 1697, the peace of Ryswick was signed. According to Burchett, the
net result of the war was the loss of fifty English warships and
fifty-nine French ones. The historians generally indicate that the
French were worn out with the struggle; but on the whole the English
seem to have been well out of the war also.
It was about this time that Peter the Great appeared in England, and
engaged John Deane, brother of the famous naval architect, Sir Anthony,
to go back to Russia with him to establish a navy. This is the first
instance of the foundation or reorganisation of a foreign navy by this
country. The experiment was by no means very successful; the bulk of
the English naval officers taken over by Peter being men who, for
various reasons, had been dismissed from the Royal Navy. Some proved
incompetent, and all of them were quarrelsome.
_WAR OF THE SUCCESSION._
The war of the Spanish Succession synchronised with the accession of
Queen Anne, in 1702. In the interval following the peace of Ryswick the
French fleet had had considerable attention paid to it. The principal
innovation consisted in increasing the size without (as hitherto)
increasing the armament in ratio. The French three-deckers were now
built of 2,000 tons instead of 1,500 as formerly. The superior sailing
qualities, ever a feature of French ships, were still further enhanced.
In England, though shipbuilding had also been vigorously pursued,
improvements commensurate with those of France were not made. English
ships of the period were, generally speaking, overgunned.
At the outbreak of the war of the Succession, the fleet consisted of
seven first-rate, fourteen second-rate, forty-five third, sixty-three
fourth, thirty-six fifth, twenty-nine sixth, eight fire ships, thirteen
bombs, and ten yachts--a total tonnage of 158,992; an increase of
about a third in thirteen years. The first-rates were a new type of
ship; the second-rates consisted of the old type first and second
rates--the three deckers of ninety guns and special service eighty-gun
two deckers. The third-rates were the staple battle type--two deckers
of seventy guns on home service and mounting sixty-two guns when sent
abroad. The fourth-rates carried nominally fifty guns and forty-four on
foreign service.
One third of the naval power of Europe was English; France and Holland
between them made up another third, the balance being represented by
the rest of the Powers.[20] Though the phrase, “Two Power Standard,”
was then unknown, the fleet, representing as it did the result of
agitations in Parliament and elsewhere for suitable naval power, was
clearly based on a similar general idea, and the Two Power Standard
theory may be dated from the time of William of Orange.
The general idea of the campaign on the English side was combined
naval and military attack on Ferrol--the fleet, consisting of fifty
English and Dutch ships of the line and some frigates and transports
to the number of 110, being under Sir George Rooke. The military
element amounted to 12,000 troops under the Duke of Ormonde. Nothing
came of the attempt owing to internal dissentions; and the expedition
was on its way back when news was received of Chateau-Renault with a
French-Spanish fleet of twenty-one warships at Vigo. A combined attack
was delivered and the entire hostile fleet was sunk or captured without
much loss, and a valuable convoy captured also.
In this year there also happened the greatest disgrace that ever befell
the Royal Navy. Admiral Benbow, who had risen from the “Lower Deck,”
was detached with six ships of the line to the West Indies, where he
met a French squadron of five, under du-Casse. Two of his captains
refused to engage the enemy altogether, and the others, save one, did
so but half-heartedly. Benbow was mortally wounded and a French victory
gained. On their return to England two of the captains were executed
“for cowardice,” but timidity had actually nothing whatever to do with
the business. It was purely and entirely an act of personal hostility.
It is generally put down to Benbow’s lowly origin; but officers of
the Benbow class were so plentiful, and Benbow had so long been in
important positions afloat,[21] that the “obvious reason” played but a
minor part. Benbow’s great defect was a lack of that “personality” of
which in later years Nelson was the prime exponent. Coupled with this
was the state of much of the Navy generally owing to Jacobite intrigues
with those who were unable to forget their old allegiance to the
Stuarts.
In 1703 very special orders were issued as to cutting down expenditure
on non-essentials in ship construction. In this year the ornamental
work so conspicuous in ships of the Stuart era was reduced almost to
extinction.
The naval events were inconsiderable. A few French prizes were made,
and it was found from these that the French theory of increasing
dimensions without increasing the armament had reached such a stage
that fifty-gun French ships were larger than sixty-gun English
ones,[22] but it was not for some years that practical attention was
directed to the point.
In 1704 there took place another of the combined naval and military
operations peculiar to this war. This was to Lisbon and in connection
with the Austrian Archduke Charles. It is mainly of interest because it
led to the more or less accidental capture of Gibraltar, and in that
it otherwise had much to do with the prevention of a junction of the
French Brest and Toulon fleets which was destined to loom so largely in
future history that to this day “junctions” remain a principal “idea”
for naval manœuvres.
Sir George Rooke, who commanded the main fleet, had with him
forty-eight ships of the line and details; Sir Cloudesley Shovell was
in the channel with some twenty-two more.
The Brest fleet sailed for Toulon under the Count de Toulouse. They
were chased without effect by Rooke, till near Toulon, when on the
evening of May 29th, he gave up the pursuit as too risky, and returned
to Lagos, where Shovell joined him on June 16th.
The combined English fleet being now assumed superior to the combined
French fleet, attacks on Cadiz and Barcelona were contemplated, but as
insufficient troops were available it was decided to attack Gibraltar
instead. The motive for doing so does not appear to have been anything
greater than that the King of Portugal and the Archduke Charles were
worrying the fleet to “do something.” Gibraltar was suggested and
settled on, apparently, as being as suitable as any other place.
Gibraltar lies at the end of a narrow peninsula. On this peninsula, on
July 21st, 1,800 marines from the fleet landed under the Prince of
Hesse. As they carried only eighteen rounds per man, the presumption
is obvious that either little opposition was expected or else that
the attack was merely delivered to satisfy those who had urged that
something should be done. The former is generally assumed to be the
case, but the latter is by no means improbable. In any case, the
marines met with little opposition and demanded the surrender of the
fortress, while some of the English ships, under Byng, were warped into
bombarding positions under a mild fire from the forts. This occupied a
whole day.
Early on the 23rd, fire was opened on both sides, and the inhabitants
of the town fled to a chapel on the hill. The bombardment continued
till noon, when the “cease fire” was ordered, so that results might be
ascertained. It was found that some of the batteries were disabled, and
it was then decided to land in the boats and capture them.
On the cessation of fire, the inhabitants, mostly women and priests,
who had fled out of the town, began to come back. Sir Cloudesley
Shovell (who was on board Byng’s flagship) ordered a gun to be fired
across these; whereupon they all ran back to the chapel in which they
had been sheltered. This gun was taken by the fleet generally to be
a signal to re-open the bombardment. Under cover of this firing, the
landing party got ashore, and had things much their own way till about
a hundred of them were killed or wounded by the blowing up of the
Castle.
At this they began to retreat, but reinforcements arriving, they
retrieved the position and captured other works without difficulty,
establishing themselves between the town and the chapel where the women
had taken refuge. Giving this as his reason, the Governor capitulated
next day. His entire garrison, according to Torrington’s Memoirs,
consisted of but eighty men. The Anglo-Dutch force lost three officers
and fifty-seven men killed, eight officers and 207 men wounded.
Thus the capture of Gibraltar, “the impregnable.” At Toulon, a large
French fleet was getting ready for sea--a fleet quite large enough
to have done to the English what Teggethoff, in 1866, did to the
bombarding Italians at Lissa.
There seems little doubt that Rooke under-estimated his fleet. On the
other hand, as he had look-outs, and the wind was not in the enemy’s
favour, the risks he actually ran were trifling compared to those taken
by Persano. From which many lessons have been deduced and morals drawn.
In actual fact, however, it is greatly to be doubted whether either
commander thought round the matter at all. The “science” of naval
warfare is a thing of quite modern origin, and the strategies displayed
by most admirals in the past--if studied with an unbiassed mind--are
just as likely to be luck as forethought. Analogous to this is Ruskin
on the artist Turner. Turner painted wonderful pictures: Ruskin found
wonderful meanings in them. These “meanings” were, however, more news
to Turner than to anyone else!
On August 10th, the French fleet, reported as sixty-six sail, was
sighted thirty miles off by a look-out ship. Rooke’s fleet at that time
was short of five Dutch ships which he had sent away, twelve other
ships were watering at Tetuan--miles away from him--and all the marines
of the fleet were on shore at Gibraltar as garrison. The light craft
were sent into Gibraltar to bring back half the marines as quickly
as possible, while the main fleet retreated to pick up the Tetuan
division, and later got its marines on board.
The French, meanwhile, either ignorant of the state of affairs, or else
from general incompetence, made no attack at the time, and it was not
till the 13th that battle was joined by the English bearing down on
them. The resulting engagement was indecisive, and the fleets withdrew
to repair damages. The French, however, declined to renew action,
eventually retreated to Toulon, and never attempted a fleet action
again during the war.
Rooke’s fleet consisted of fifty-three ships of the line. The French
had fifty-two, of which they lost five.
Following the battle of Malaga, the marines were landed again at
Gibraltar, together with some gunners and forty-eight guns. The fleet
then returned to England, leaving at Lisbon a dozen ships under Sir
John Leake--the only ships which, after survey, were considered not
to be in urgent need of refit at home. This squadron was subsequently
reinforced by eight ships of the line.
The French and Spaniards presently invested Gibraltar by land and sea.
In the first attempt the blockading fleet was short of supplies and had
to retire to Cadiz. Leake arrived, but finding nothing there returned
to the Tagus.
The French then sent a light squadron to assist the siege, and the
whole of those were surprised and captured by Leake, on October 29th,
1704. There is reason to believe that this action saved the fortress,
as a grand assault was on the _tapis_.
Leake remained at Gibraltar three months, during which time stores and
some 2,000 troops were brought in from England; then, the garrison
being now in no straits, the English ships withdrew in January, 1705,
to Lisbon to refit, leaving the land investment to proceed. In March, a
squadron of fourteen French ships of the line appeared off Gibraltar,
but owing to a gale only five got into the harbour. Here they were
presently surprised and captured by the English. The remaining ships
fled to Toulon and the siege was then raised--having lasted five months.
From these operations it is abundantly clear that the English had by
now realised that Gibraltar was perfectly safe so long as its sea
communications were kept open. De Pointis, the French Admiral, realised
the same thing, and in the whole of the naval operations he appears to
have been obeying, under protest, orders from the French Government,
which at no time appears to have realised the futility of such
operations in face of a superior Anglo-Dutch fleet.
Following the abandonment of the siege of Gibraltar, the French became
very active with their corsairs, inflicting heavy losses on English
trade. On the ultimate inutility of this _guerre de course_ much has
been written; but perhaps hardly proper attention has been bestowed
on the other side of the question. The French had small stomach for
anything of the nature of a fleet action, and there is little or no
reason to suppose that had they concentrated on line operations any
success would have attended their efforts. Their _personnel_ was
generally inferior. Their _materiel_ on the other hand was superior,
and the problem really before them surely was, not which method, “grand
battle” or _guerre de course_, was better, but how best to inflict
damage with the means available. And here the _guerre de course_ held
obvious promise.
In the summer of 1705, a combined land and sea attack was delivered on
Barcelona, the Earl of Peterborough being in supreme command of both
forces. The town surrendered on October 3rd. The history of Gibraltar
was then repeated. The fleet withdrew, leaving Leake with a few ships
to watch. The enemy then invested the place, which was relieved just
in time by Leake so heavily reinforced that the French squadron made
no attempt to fight him. A variety of other towns was then captured by
combined attacks, also the Balearic Islands, except Minorca.
In 1706, combined operations on the north of France were arranged for,
but ultimately abandoned owing to the weather. Ostend was captured in
this year; but a combined attack on Toulon, in 1707, signally failed.
In 1708, the French attempted combined operations on Scotland and
reached the Firth of Forth with twenty sail, but an English squadron
under Byng arriving they sailed away again at once. The superior
mobility of the French was evidenced by the fact that Byng’s pursuit
resulted in nothing but the capture of an ex-English ship which could
not keep up with her French-built consorts. The Anglo-Dutch combined
operations of the year resulted in the capture of Minorca. Minor
operations took place in the West Indies.
1709 passed mostly in the relief of places which had been acquired and
were now besieged. In 1710, the French became more active, capturing
one or two English warships and making a combined attempt against
Sardinia. This last was frustrated by Sir John Norris. An English
attempt on Cette in the same year proved a failure; but conspicuous
success attended similar operations in Nova Scotia.
In the following years the principal of such operations as took place
were on the American coast. Of these, the chief was an abortive attack
on Quebec, mainly remarkable for an extraordinary escape of the entire
English fleet one night in the Gulf of St. Lawrence. A military
officer, one Captain Goddard, insisted that he saw breakers ahead.
As no one would credit him he finally dragged the Admiral out of bed
and up on deck, by which time the fleet was close on to the breakers.
As things were, seven transports were wrecked and nearly a thousand
soldiers drowned. The warships very narrowly escaped.[23]
This disaster led to the abandonment of the expedition. Peace was
declared in 1713. The English loss in the war was thirty-eight ships,
mounting 1,596 guns; the French lost fifty-two ships, mounting 3,094
guns.[24] A very large number of English ships became unserviceable
during the war, because, despite the fact that many new ships were
built and that the bulk of the ships lost by the French entered the
English service, the entire navy diminished by twenty-five vessels.
Most of the ships were in poor condition, and in the early years of
George I’s reign, large sums had to be expended on refits. Foul bilge
water was the main cause of internal decay, and in 1715 organised steps
were taken for the ventilation of the bilges. A certain increase in
size for ships of all classes was also ordered, those of 100 guns being
increased by 319 tons, and the eighty-gun ships by sixty-seven tons.
This increase, however, by no means brought the tonnage to gun ratio
down to the French limits, nor were the improvements in underwater form
of much serious moment. The French maintained a superiority in this
respect which they held till the present century. To-day, of course,
the situation is completely reversed, and for any given horse-power any
British ship is appreciably faster than a French one.[25]