for immediate use in shipbuilding. This subject was first drawn
attention to in 1694, and the net result of the enquiries in 1715 did
not really go much further. It was not till eleven years later that the
problem was seriously grappled with.
In 1715, an English fleet under Norris was in the Baltic, acting
against Sweden and allied with the Russians and Danes, Peter the Great
himself being in chief command. Nothing of moment happened. These
operations extended to 1719, when sides were changed.
In 1718, Spain, which had recently made some considerable efforts
towards the creation of naval power, used her power for an attack on
Sicily. Admiral Byng arriving with a superior English fleet, attacked
and destroyed the greater part of the Spanish squadron in the Battle
of Cape Passaro. No state of war existed. The Spaniards had attacked
an English ally, and this was Byng’s only excuse for action. A few
months later war was formally declared against Spain, and early in 1719
a curious replica of the Armada took place. Forty Spanish transports,
escorted by merely five warships, sailed from Cadiz for the coast of
Scotland; the idea being that the 5,000 troops which they carried
should co-operate in a Jacobite rising. This “Armada” was dispersed
by a severe gale off Cape Finisterre, and only a small fraction of it
reached the coast of Ross, where a landing, easily defeated by the
military, was made. It is noteworthy that no fleet met the expedition,
and it was not till a month after its dispersal in a gale that Norris
sailed to look for it.
The remainder of this particular war, which lasted only three years,
was devoted to the re-conquest of Sicily and the capture of Vigo. Peace
was concluded in 1721. In the course of this war the usual combined
attack was made upon Gibraltar in 1720; but the arrival of an English
fleet easily relieved the garrison.
At and about this time the Russian fleet, hitherto allies, became the
enemy, and early in 1720 Admiral Norris was despatched to assist the
Swedes against them. He appears to have done very little save squabble
with the Swedish admiral as to precedence. In any case the Russians
did much as they listed against the Swedish coast till Sweden had to
sue for peace, and Russia became the predominant Baltic naval power.
Her position as such was the more extraordinary in that the Russian
fleet was technically very incompetent. The situation was mainly
brought about by the personal genius of Peter the Great. His ships were
generally the speedier, and he issued the strictest orders that no
enemy was to be engaged unless at least one-third inferior in power. In
the presence of an enemy the Swedes considered nothing,[26] the English
comparatively little. The brain of Peter, was, therefore, an easy match
for them, despite the technical inferiority of his _personnel_. This
campaign is a most striking illustration of Alexander the Great’s
maxim “that an army of sheep led by a lion is better than an army of
lions led by a sheep.”
In 1726, an Anglo-Danish naval demonstration against Russia took place
at Kronstadt, but nothing came of the incident, which was repeated
equally ineffectually in the following year, when larger preparations
were made.
In 1726, the preservation of ships’ timbers came once more on the
_tapis_, when the results of some experiments, commenced six years
before, were inspected. Up to about 1720, woods were prepared for use
by a system known as “charring.” This consisted in building a fire one
side of the plank and keeping the other side wet till the required
condition was produced. One, Cumberland, invented a system known as
“stoving.” By this, the wood was put into wet sand and then subjected
to heat till the juices were extracted and the wood in suitable
condition. A ship was planked with both systems, side by side, and on
these being examined in 1726, it was found that while the “stoved”
planks were in good condition the “charred” ones were already rotten.
A grateful country vaguely presented Cumberland with one tenth
of whatever might be the saving which his system would produce.
Cumberland, however, was equally vague, since he could supply no data
as to the amount of heat or time of subjection, and experiments had to
be carried out in the Yards in order to ascertain this. The authorities
were apparently still ascertaining when one Boswell, of Deptford
Yard, in 1736, hit upon using steam, and his system became at once
general--though a few years later it was replaced by boiling the timber.
When George II came to the throne the country was at peace, but this
peace was mainly and entirely secured by the policy of Walpole, who
kept the Navy on a war footing. Feeling against Spain ran so high on
account of the action of the _Guarda-Costas_ in searching English ships
in the West Indies, that Walpole’s hands were forced in 1739. In the
House of Commons, Captain Vernon announced that with six ships he could
capture Porto Bello. Promoted to Rear Admiral, he essayed the task, and
accomplished it, by coming into close range and landing under cover of
a bombardment. His loss was trifling--nineteen killed and wounded, all
told. The garrison turned out to have been only 300 strong, of whom
forty surrendered. The rest had either been killed or had fled. It is
to be observed that no state of war existed at the time.
War with Spain was declared in October, 1739. The English fleet in
commission consisted of thirty-eight ships of the line, and there was
a reserve of twenty-four ready for immediate service. There were also
thirty-six minor vessels in commission and eight in reserve.
An interesting circumstance of this war was the whole-world scale
on which naval operations were planned. In substance the scheme was
as follows:--Admiral Vernon was to attack the east coast of Darien.
Captain Cornwall was to round the Horn, attack the west coast of Darien
and then go to the Philippines, where he was to meet Captain Anson, who
was to voyage thither via the Cape of Good Hope. The scheme was not
carried out in its entirety, as the Cape of Good Hope expedition never
sailed, Anson being substituted for Cornwall.
Vernon, having been reinforced with a number of bombs and fire-ships,
proceeded, in March, 1740, to attack Cartagena, which he bombarded
for four days without much material result. Then he proceeded to
Chagres, which, after a two days’ bombardment, surrendered to him.
A considerable Spanish squadron being reported on its way out, and
a French fleet (suspected of hostile designs) also sailing, Vernon
withdrew to Jamaica, where he lay till reinforced by twenty ships under
Ogle.
Ogle performed his voyage without adventure, except that six of his
ships encountered a French squadron and fought it for some little time
under the impression that a state of war existed. The error being
discovered, the squadrons parted with mutual apologies.[27]
Ogle arrived in January, 1741. After a short refit the fleet sailed
to look for the French and observe them. They presently learned that
the French, short of men and provisions, had gone back to Europe. Upon
receipt of this news it was decided to attack Cartagena.
Vernon had with him twenty-nine ships of the line, twenty-two lesser
craft and a number of transports, carrying 12,000 troops. The seamen
and marines of the fleet totalled 15,000. For a time some success was
met with, but divided councils, mutual recrimination between Navy and
Army, sickness in the troops, all did their share, and eventually the
attack was abandoned.[28]
Attacks on other places led to no happier results, and while efforts
were thus being frittered away in the West Indies, the commerce was
suffering badly. Petitions from the commercial world to Parliament
were of almost daily occurrence. Vernon requested to be recalled, and
eventually was superseded, but his successor fared no better than he.
Meanwhile, we must turn aside for a moment to consider the operations
of Anson. The following items in connection therewith are summarised
from Barrow’s _Voyages and Discoveries_, published in 1765.
On arriving at Madeira, Anson, who had left England on the 13th of
September, 1740, learned of a Spanish squadron, under Pizarro, lying
in wait for him. This squadron, attempting to round the Horn ahead of
Anson, encountered a furious gale, and was eventually driven back to
Buenos Ayres, with only three ships left, and these reduced to the
utmost extremities. A second attempt to round the Horn fared no better,
and eventually Pizarro returned to Spain in his own ship, manned
chiefly by English prisoners and some pressed Indians. These latter
mutinied, but not being joined by the English prisoners, as they had
hoped, were defeated.
Anson left Madeira on November 3rd, 1740, and shortly afterwards his
crews fell sick, through lack of air, the ships being too deep for the
lower ports to be opened. Anson had several ventilating holes cut. Then
fever came, carrying off many. Just before Christmas he arrived at St.
Catherine’s, Brazil, but his hopes of recruiting his men’s health were
abortive. His own flagship, the _Centurion_, lost twenty-eight men dead
and had ninety-six others on the sick list.
On January 18th, 1741, Anson sailed for the Horn. A gale scattered his
squadron, one ship being separated for a month; eventually, however,
all rejoined. There followed three months’ tempests rounding the Horn.
Scurvy appeared, and the ships got separated again. Finally, on June
9th, the _Centurion_ alone reached Juan Fernandez, short of water and
only about ten men fit for duty in a watch.
A few days later the _Tryal_ appeared at the island, her captain,
lieutenant and three men being all who were available for service.
A third ship, the _Gloucester_, appeared on June 21st, but so
short-handed was she that, though assistance was sent her, it took her
an entire fortnight to make harbour! On August 16th, the victualler
ship, _Anna Pink_, arrived, all her crew in good condition, she having
put into some harbour en route. Of the other three ships, two (the
_Severn_ and _Pearl_), failed to round the Horn and returned to Brazil;
the third, the _Wager_, was wrecked.
In September, a sail was sighted. The _Centurion_ put to sea and found
her to be a Spanish merchant ship. From the prisoners it was learned
that a Spanish squadron from Chili had been on the look out for Anson,
that a ship had been lying off Juan Fernandez till just before his
arrival, but that assuming him lost they had now all gone back to
Valparaiso.
Thereafter several prizes were taken, one being fitted out to replace
the _Tryal_, which was abandoned. The _Anna Pink_ had also had to be
abandoned as useless.
Now began the most extraordinary part of the enterprise. Treasure ships
were captured, thirty-eight men landed, held up and captured Payta, a
good half of these attired in feminine costume, which they found in
houses wherein they had sought substitutes for their rags--only one
man drunk in all the sack of the town--the terror of prisoners, who,
when released, refused to accept liberty till they had thanked Anson
for his courtesy--Anson’s insistence on treasure being divided equally
between those who attacked and those who kept ship, while giving his
own share to the attackers--the night chase of a supposed galleon
which turned out to be but a fire on shore--the fearful sufferings of
boats’ crews sent out to look for the treasure ship[29]--the release
of prisoners, and the Spanish reply thereto by the despatch of luxuries
to the English--the final loss of the _Gloucester_, worn out by keeping
the sea--the arrival at Guam of the _Centurion_ with only seventy-one
men capable of “standing at a gun” under even any emergencies--these
things belong to special histories. Here it suffices to give but a
general outline, of which the first event is that having reached Macao
and refitted, Anson went into the Pacific again, and, having given his
men considerable training in marksmanship and gun-handling, finally
intercepted and captured the Spanish treasure ship that he sought.
On his subsequent return to China with his prize, the experiences of
“Mr. Anson” (as he is generally called throughout the history from
which I quote) were mainly of a personal nature. Visited by a mandarin
who showed a liking for wine, Anson had to plead illness and delegate
his duties of glass for glass to the most robust officer he had. He
provisioned by weight with ducks (found to be filled with stones to
make them heavier) and pigs filled with water. Ultimately he had to go
up to Canton with (so far as I can ascertain) the first instance of a
crew in regular uniform. To quote from the entertaining contemporary
narrative:--
“Towards the end of September, the commodore finding that he
was deceived by those who had contracted to supply him with sea
provisions; and that the viceroy had not, according to his
promise, invited him to an interview, found it impossible to
surmount the difficulty he was under, without going to Canton and
visiting the viceroy. He, therefore, prepared for this expedition:
the boat’s crew were clothed, in a uniform dress, resembling that
of the water-men of the Thames. There were in number eighteen, and
a coxswain; they had scarlet jackets, and blue silk waistcoats, the
whole trimmed with silver buttons, and had also silver badges on
their jackets and caps.”
Leaving Macao, the _Centurion_ reached the Cape of Good Hope on the
11th of March, 1744. From here, signing on forty Dutchmen, Anson
proceeded home.
So ended the most prodigious oversea combined enterprise ever before
attempted. Anson was not the first to circumnavigate the world, but few
had done so before him, and on that account the real purpose of his
expedition has been generally overlooked in the circumnavigation feat.
As ever in British naval history luck was with him; but something more
than “luck” must have been in an enterprise where Pizarro, sent to
intercept him, gave up, while Anson fought through the perils of Cape
Horn, with his sickly crews and crazy ships.
To resume the general history of the war. In October, 1742, the
_Victory_ (100) was lost, presumably on the Caskets, though her actual
fate was never ascertained. France had now entered into the war; her
fleet consisted of forty-five ships of the line; the corresponding
English fleet totalling ninety ships of the line.
In 1742, Ogle succeeded Vernon in the West Indies, and a series of
small bombardments resulted, usually without success.
Formal hostilities with France (delayed as was the custom of the time)
were declared in 1744, and outlying possessions changed hands. Anson,
in command of the Channel Fleet in 1747, defeated and captured the
Brest fleet, and some minor actions took place, mostly in connection
with convoys. The war ended in 1748; its net naval results being as
follows:--
ENGLISH. SPANISH. FRENCH.
Warships lost or captured 49 24 56
Merchant ships captured 3,238 1,249 2,185
The economy order referred to on a previous page was possibly in part
responsible for the bad showing made by the English as warships in
this war. In any case the standardisation of classes had disappeared,
and no two ships were of the same dimensions. Many ships were found so
weak at sea that they had to be shored up between decks,[30] and of
all the complaint was continual that they were very “crank” and unable
to open their lee ports in weather in which foreign ships could do so.
The seamanship, however, was of a high order compared to that of either
the French or Spaniards; possibly the very badness of the English ships
helped to make the seamanship what it was.
After the war many constructional improvements were suggested and some
few of them carried into practice. Among the prizes of the war was a
Spanish ship, the _Princessa_ of seventy guns, which attracted general
admiration. In 1746, a glorified copy of her, the _Royal George_, was
laid down.[31] At and about this time an era of slow shipbuilding set
in; for example, this _Royal George_ was ten years on the stocks. The
slow building was part and parcel of the naval policy of the period,
and in no way to be connected with what any such tardiness would mean
to-day.
A ship on the stocks was more easily preserved from decay than one
in the water. With precisely the same idea the authorities at the
end of the war disbanded the bulk of the _personnel_. Upon a war
appearing likely, the press-gang was always available to supplement any
deficiency in the rank and file not filled by allowing jail-birds to
volunteer.
Officering the fleet was a less easy matter. The choice lay between
retired officers more or less rusty, and the best of the “prime
seamen,” who had been afloat in such warships as were retained
in commission. The Admiralty selected its officers from both
indiscriminately. There is this much, but no more, warrant for the idea
that in the old days the sailor from forward could rise to the highest
ranks, while to-day he cannot do so. The fact is correct enough, but
the circumstance had nothing to do with inducements and encouragements.
Once on the quarter deck the tarpaulin seaman, if he had it in him,
might win his way to high rank and fame, as did Benbow, Sir John
Balchen, Captain Cook, and several others. But he obtained his footing
on entirely utilitarian grounds which passed away when a more regular
system of _personnel_ came into custom.
In the year 1753, a Dr. Hales was instrumental in one of the greatest
improvements ever effected in the navy. To him was due the adoption of
a system of ventilation with wind-mills and air pumps. The immediate
result was a very great reduction in the sickness and death-rate on
shipboard, the Earl of Halifax placing it on record that for twelve men
who died in non-ventilated ships, only one succumbed in the ventilated
vessels.
Early in 1755, a war with France became probable on account of hostile
preparations made in North America. As a matter of precaution a French
squadron on its way out was attacked and two ships captured. Something
like three hundred French merchant ships were also taken during the
year. War, however, was not declared on either side!
Early in 1756, news was received of French designs on Minorca, a
considerable expedition collecting at Toulon. After some delay, Byng
left England with ten ships of the line, picked up three more at
Gibraltar, and sailed to relieve Minorca, where Fort St. Philip was
closely invested by 15,000 troops. Supporting these last was a French
squadron of twelve ships of the line, under La Gallisonniére.
On Byng arriving, La Gallisonniére embarked 450 men from the attacking
force to reinforce his crews, and on May 20th ensued the battle of
Minorca, which resulted in the defeat and retreat of Byng.[32] Ten days
later the British force in the island surrendered.
Byng was subsequently court-martialled and shot at Portsmouth for
having failed to do his utmost to destroy the French fleet. His
ships were indifferently manned and in none too good condition. He
encountered a better man than himself, and there is no reason to
suppose that had he resumed action, anything but his total defeat
would have resulted. At the same time, the execution of Byng, _pour
encourager les autres_, probably bore utilitarian fruit in the years
that were to follow. The execution has since been condemned as little
better than a revengeful judicial murder; but a realisation of the
circumstances of the times suggests that other motives than punishment
of an individual were paramount.
[Illustration: BATTLESHIPS OF THE WHITE ERA AT SEA.]
War was formally declared shortly after the fall of Minorca. No
events of much moment marked the rest of the year 1756, but early in
the following year, Calcutta, which had fallen to the natives, was
recaptured by Clive, assisted by a naval force.
In 1758, the Navy consisted of 156 of the line and 164 lesser vessels.
The _personnel_ was 60,000.
The situation at this time was that in North America the French
colonies were being hotly pressed, Louisbourg being invested. The
French had a species of double plan--to relieve Louisbourg directly,
and also the usual invasion of England.
The relief of Louisbourg came to nought; a Toulon squadron which came
out being driven back by Osborne, while Hawke destroyed the convoys in
the Basque Roads. Louisbourg finally fell, four ships of the line that
were lying there being burned, and one other captured, together with
some smaller craft.
Nearer home, combined naval and military attacks were pressed upon the
French coast, Anson wrecking havoc on St. Malo, while Howe destroyed
practically everything at Cherbourg.
The invasion of England project remained, however. In 1759, the French
had somewhere about twenty ships of the line, under De Conflans,
at Brest, twelve at Toulon, under De la Clue, five with a fleet of
transports at Quiberon, five frigates at Dunkirk with transports,
a division of small craft and flat-bottomed boats at Havre, and a
squadron of nine ships of the line with auxiliaries in the West Indies.
These were watched or blockaded by superior British squadrons in every
case--the maintenance of blockades being mainly possible owing to the
improved ventilation of the ships. Provisions were still bad and scurvy
plentiful, but the blockade maintained was better and closer than
anything that the French can have anticipated. This war, indeed, saw
the birth of scientific blockade in place of the somewhat haphazard
methods which had previously existed. In part, it arose from a better
perception of naval warfare, the study of history and the growth of
definite objectives. But since side by side with these improvements
tactical ideas were nearly non-existent and ships in fighting kept a
line of the barrack-ground type regardless of all circumstances,[33]
improvements in naval architecture may claim at least as big a part as
the wit of man. Ideas of blockading and watching were as old as the
Peloponnesian War, but means to carry them into effect had hitherto
been sadly lacking.
To resume, the French fleets being cornered by superior forces, had no
option but to wait for lucky opportunity to effect the usual attempted
junctions. This opportunity was long in coming, and meanwhile Rodney
made an attack on the invading flotilla at Havre, bombarded it for
fifty-two hours, and utterly destroyed the flat-bottomed boats which
had been collected.
In July, 1759, Boscawen, having run short of water and provisions,
had to withdraw from Toulon to Gibraltar, where he began to refit his
ships, and De la Clue, learning of this, came out of Toulon in August,
slipping through the straits at midnight, with the English fleet in
pursuit shortly afterwards.
De la Clue had intended to rendezvous at Cadiz, but having altered his
mind, made the almost inevitable failure of getting all his ships to
comprehend it.[34] So it came about that daylight found him near Cape
St. Vincent, with only six sail, and eight of Boscawen’s ships (which
he at first took to be his own stragglers) coming up. In the action
that followed, three of the French ships were captured, two burned
and one escaped. The stragglers of the French fleet got into Cadiz as
originally directed, and a few months later escaped back to Toulon.
Thurot, with a small squadron, slipped out from Dunkirk, in October,
merely to intern himself in a Swedish harbour.
Hawke continued his blockade of Brest, being now and then driven off
by gales, and during one of these absences, Bempart, with his nine
West Indian ships, got into Brest. The Brest fleet was apparently very
short-handed, or else the West Indian squadron in a very bad way; in
any case the crews of the latter were distributed among the former, and
De Conflans sailed with only twenty-one ships on November 14th.
The expeditionary force which he proposed to convoy lay at Quiberon,
which place owing to weather he did not make till the 20th. There he
sighted and gave chase to the blockading English frigates, and in doing
so met Hawke’s fleet of twenty-three ships of the line.